Bangkok 2 (1083 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 18 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Isaac Bickerstaff (View user info) at 2004-12-06 21:26:53 EST
I used to fight this big corn fed guy back in New York named Jebidiah who would get crazy high on whatever he could find before he would climb into the ring. His ass did pretty well until he got some dusted weed that made him swing at shit that wasn't there, and the Puerto Rican guy he was up against dropped his pig fuckin ass like a bad transmission.
But the Thai cat in the ring with me was on crystal pure and true and was moving so fucking fast that all I could do was stand there and get hit. But let's be honest, child, the guy weighed like 159 pounds soakin' wet and I haven't been 159 since I fought in super light division back in college, so while I'm getting hammered by like a million shots, I know how to cover and it's only a couple minutes before he's pretty tired and I'm damn near bored. He's also wearing gloves that are way to big for his girlscout hands but he had a proper mouthpiece and about the 9 hundredth shot I took to the button made me wish Nadine's scrunchie was a little more sub fucking stantial cuz I hate in when I chew and my teeth don't match up.
Now I'm sure it sounds like the ugly part is well underway, kids, but it's actually just starting and I mean starting now. Starting now when the Thai cat steps back and starts kicking. The Chinese translation calls it a "slam the door" kick, while the guilos like you and me call it a "roundhouse" but either ass way it's the staple of Kickboxing and he steps back and starts sending these bastards into my ribs at about twelve zillion miles per hour and I don't fucking care how small his ass is, that shit sucks.
And it's right about now when I realize how bad this is going to get before it gets better. The Thai cat is whipping his little razor blade shins into my breadbox and it don't matter if I take it somewhere hard or soft, he's so fucking skinny that it goes right through my shit, like getting hit with a broomstick made of iron. But, c'mon now man, I didn't climb up in here to lose now did I? And I've already noticed that there are no corner-men working the stools...
So towards the end of "wound won" I step back and flick a little jab right at his brainpan to see what's up and his head snaps back like the Hulk just right crossed his ass. And the messed up thing, man? The messed up thing was that I didn't even HIT him. I didn't even hit him to snap his head back like that; he snapped it back to avoid getting hit. Now I've seen this shit before, my brothers and it's the worst tell tale sign of all and I saw it, and he knew that I saw it. And when the bell rang to end the round and he went to his stool, we looked at each other as if for the first time: I had seen him bail from a snapped jab, and that only meant one thing.
He was scared.
Terrified, in fact. But the question of what, remained. He couldn't be afraid of me. I was way more muscley than him but that means ass in the ring and besides, he hadn't seen me DO anything yet; so if not me, than what? And that's when it starts to get to the part I mentioned about "worse before better," my children, because here is when it came to me that there was no winning this shit, and I mean NO winning. One of us was desperately fighting for his paycheck up here, or his food, or his life for that matter, but whatever the case, that someone wasn't me, I was here sightseeing for fuck's sake. Now, don't get me wrong, bitches, I wasn't worried about losing, let's get it straight right now, I never fucking lose and wasn't about to start. But generally the consequences of winning involve some battered bones and wounded egos and occasionally you have to watch some poor bastard that you just monkey-stomped ice his dislocated jawbone while his girlfriend sobs, but whatever man, no one MADE them get in the ring, right? But this was different, and I knew I didn't have the heart for it.
Turns out I had something far worse.
As I sit down on my stool, I look down at JD and he's laughing cuz so far it's a fucking carnival, right, two guys pounding each other, or in this case, one crazed Asian meth-head pounding an American muscle-head and let's be honest, that's good fucking theatre. JD mistakes the freaked fucking look on my face for something it aint and says, "Don't worry, Twink, no one really though you were gonna win. We're just surprised you're gonna lose in such a spectacular fashion." And while I hear Bobby Night making plans for all the dope he's gonna buy with his winnings, Nadine and the rest of the herd of dancers are "oh my God"-ing themselves to death, "look at all the bloooooood!" I wipe some from my lip, it aint even that much.
Right before the round two bell goes off, I'm swimming in the screams of the crowd that has gathered and wondering how often someone actually lasts for more than a round up here cuz most of the fighters I know wouldn't. Not that they couldn't, but it's just not worth it. No matter what, you're gonna be bitched for like four days and swollen and shit and I got heartaches to mend before I can worry about my goddamn knees, ya know?
JD reaches up and taps my bare foot and says, "Hey, Jackie Chan, remember that there's no rules up there. Can't you just turn invisible, or throw fire or teleport or something?" And then he laughs like a psycho at the Coliseum about to watch some Christians get lunched by a grizzly, "remember, NO RULES!"
I'm way ahead of ya, JD. Way.
As the second bell goes off, the Thai cat launches in all fired up, all fucked up, all frenetic and hungry. And now I got some acting to do, right bitches? It's the only kind of acting I's ever good at, not like the "pretend you care" look that Maxim magazine keeps telling me I gotta master, or the "try to be interested in her life" vibe I'm supposed to give off to make things work out with her. Somehow I missed those days in "guy school" and my therapist never misses an opportunity to remind me. But fool a young fighter into thinking that he's got the upper hand? I can do that shit so well that the whole audience thought it was so.
I stumble all weary and forlorn to the center of the ring and cover up while he goes to work on my shit. Thing is, the Thai cat is starting to lose it a little, shit wasn't supposed to go down this way; the big ass American should have hit the floor by now, right? So he's pounding away so frantic that his desperation is as thick in the air as the bloodlust of the screeching whores.
I wonder for a second what's gonna happen to this cat if he loses. Does he lose his job? A little cash? Does his trainer beat his ass and humiliate him for losing to a pale ass foreigner in his skivvies and send him back to work making Nikes? I sneak a look over at the old man announcer and see on his face a mixture of anger, surprise and disbelief. Shit was definitely not supposed to pan out this way. And then I sit back and wait for it.
Check it: when a guy is pounding away on you so crazy hard that he forgets you might hit back, that you might actually be an inheritor to a Lamma system, that maybe you actually were trained by a National Living Treasure of China and might have been on the Olympic team if you could've stopped drinking, when he forgets THAT, well then, his ass is cooked; he just don't know it yet.
So I wait.
User Reviews
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2007-06-02 11:33:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-05-26 17:07:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It's difficult to give you sincere reviews without sounding a) pretentious b) sychophantic or c) crazy stalkerish.
Submitted by refusenik (user info) at 2006-03-17 07:03:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-03-17 06:32:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
There are a few spelling mistakes. Doesn't stop it being a +2, but I like knowing you're not perfect.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-03-13 00:03:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Brilliant again.
Submitted by Pacifist248 (user info) at 2005-06-29 04:54:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2005-06-26 11:25:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
is anyone else really excited?
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-06-24 17:24:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ace!
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-06-24 17:07:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
BUMP
Submitted by Rocktsrgn (user info) at 2005-04-05 11:58:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"this is beautiful."
Submitted by Durae (user info) at 2005-03-08 02:51:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
this is beautiful
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2005-03-04 10:48:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I can't believe you've only got 6 reviews on this.
Submitted by Jungle_Jimanee (user info) at 2005-02-16 12:38:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2005-02-16 09:14:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-01-05 14:42:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Many thanks to Snark for unknowingly leading me here...
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2004-12-31 10:29:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Your writing hits like an adrenaline rush.
Submitted by the_lone_stranger (user info) at 2004-12-20 18:49:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
On to the next round...
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2004-12-17 02:04:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yanno, what with all the 'my child' and 'my bothers and sisters', you sound like a cult leader. A very charismatic cult leader.
If you started a cult I'd probably join, and have to be kidnapped and reprogrammed by my family.
I read all your posts five days ago, and they've stuck in my head the way my own address, phone number, and first name refuse to.