In the middle of Barbosa's MMA Gym, the first round for the purple belt Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu tournament began and Ben faced off against his first opponent. Well, opponent was one way to describe him; a more appropriate one might be victim.
"Get off me!" The man yelled as Ben whispered sweet nothings into his ear…
With a gentle smile, Ben showed the extent of his upgraded personal talent. Yet, instead of doing that through BJJ, he instead showed it through cursing. "You talk like you got home schooled but only for Sex Ed. class."
…
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
The other purple belts surrounding the area all looked at each other with blank expressions.
"The hell was that?"
All they saw was a white belt taking down a purple belt, which was shocking enough. Yet, Ben only needed to get top position on him for a dozen seconds before forcing the opponent to quit out of nowhere. They didn't hear what Ben said, but that only made them more confused.
The only one who understood what happened was the referee standing over them. Yet, he wasn't in any better shape, because he heard the words but now he had to declare Ben the winner. For some reason, he imagined it being like the feeling of having to give his wife away to a loan shark to play with in order to pay his debt…
It wasn't healthy for anyone.
Still, rules were rules, so Ben passed the first round without much effort, feeling the confused eyes of many around him as he walked back towards the wall to sit next to Fariq.
"Sick Soul Crank, bro!" Fariq smiled. He didn't know how the move worked but Ben at least told him what it was called, so he paid his respects after seeing its deadly fury.
Then, the two proceeded to chat as the tournament continued. Fariq also won his first round, and a while later, the two turned as they heard a heavy stomping on the mats. Nick walked in. It was the time for his match. In reality, he didn't consider any of these opponents a threat, which was why he didn't even bother watching the matches, spending time in the lobby trying to hit on female white belts until he was called in. A short while later though, he proved that he could back up his arrogance, defeating his opponent in half a minute.
"This beast again…"
"If I've gotta go against him, I'm just gonna forfeit. Guy is too wild."
"That's not a bad idea. In the last tournament, he injured half his opponents."
As he was leaving after his victory, everyone was once again reminded of his strength. Yet, ironically, Nick was the only one not satisfied. When he left the room, he moved his shoulders around. Although he won, the victory wasn't as simple. He needed to try several submission attacks before locking one on. He felt slow, and the only reason it didn't make much difference was because his opponent was weaker this time. However, Nick soon brushed it off, assuming he just needed to warm up a bit more.
From there, the tournament continued, and soon Ben was facing his second opponent.
As soon as they hit the ground, Ben softened his opponent up. "I bet you save your hair in plastic bags after a haircut."
…
His opponent experienced great discomfort at that notion, but as a veteran purple belt, he continued to defend himself. He wouldn't be defeated by mere wo—.
"You look like you eat hot dogs with your butt."
…
The purple belt shook his head furiously… For some reason, his thoughts were slowing down. His eyes were getting hazy. He was experiencing greater discomfort than when his girlfriend made him watch Brokeback Mountain…
Yet, this time, he wouldn't get a chance to pretend he was getting a phone call so he could pause the movie…
"You look like a dude who can go to a ranch and determine whether livestock is gay or straight using taste alone."
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
He'd never set foot on a ranch in his life, but now, he'd wanted to never have to…
Like that, Ben won his second round, and the tournament continued. One match after another, purple belts were eliminated. After each round, they became more and more shocked at the white belt who managed to hang in there, somehow submitting people using some kind of magical pressure points or mysterious technique they'd never heard of.
All they knew was that judging by the lost and hopeless faces of Ben's opponents after each match, after Nick, he became the opponent they didn't want to face most. Yet, some were born to experience tragedy.
"You look like you have great potential. I bet you could become an Olympic skiball champion."
…
"You should smile more, man! You look like you could spread a lot of positivity...of HIV."
…
"Have you ever acted? I think you've got the features for it. You could probably be the lead actor in a 21 Jump Street movie, at a special needs school."
…
One by one, the dominoes fell, and soon the herd began to thin, leaving only the strongest remaining. Fariq ran into a tough opponent in the fourth round and was knocked out. Now, only Ben, Nick, and a handful of others remained. At the sides of the class, were two conspicuous groups of opponents who had lost. On one side, were the ones Nick defeated. Many of them were rubbing their joints, or even holding ice packs against them, sore from him going overboard on submissions and injuring them.
On the other side, were a group of purple belts who seemed to have no physical injuries. Yet, their eyes, emitted auras of death…
They sat there in silence, refusing to look or speak to anyone. Somehow, their only instinct was to gather together and sit there in a trance, as if once their souls finished leaving their bodies, they wanted to make it easier to bury them all in a mass grave.
…
It was a thoughtful gesture for the gravedigger. Yet, in this case, that role belonged to Ben, and he was very good at his job, as he planned to continue demonstrating in the upcoming matches.
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