As Nick glared menacingly at Ben who was grappling in the last semi-final match of the purple belt Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu tournament, the eye-candy himself wasn't having as good of a time. His opponent was a tough one. In truth, Ben hoped to challenge himself by not using his soul attacks, pushing his techniques to the limit as he honed his skills. That was until he remembered he was the MC. 'F*ck it! Gold-finger!'
When did MCs ever have to hold back from using their world-breaking abilities? Ben wasn't trying to insult his fans by getting too creative…
He glanced at his opponent. "Hey bro, I bet when you brush your teeth, you hold the toothbrush still and shake your head like this." Ben shook his head side to side at rapid speed.
…
"Wha— Huh?" The opponent blinked as his thoughts became cloudy.
"You look confused, boy…" Ben continued the onslaught.
The opponent didn't know how to respond.
"You seem like the type of dude that loves taking bubble baths."
…
This opponent was talented and a hard-worker. He'd trained for years to get to this point. So why was it that when he was in the semi-finals of a BJJ tournament, all he could picture was a rubber ducky?
…
Not long after, Ben took advantage of his opponent's confusion and moved into a dominant position, and not long after…
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
He submitted the tough opponent, having secured a choke on the weakened warrior. As he got up, he couldn't help noticing all the glances at him, filled with confusion, shock, and awe. Ben snorted as he brushed his curly hair back with his fingers. 'Don't be jealous. Daddy uses a special conditioner.'
…
Valentina narrowed her eyes at him. 'I just know he's thinking something ridiculous right now…'
She'd seen that expression too many times already as Ben thought of random sh*t when they trained together.
She wasn't the only one with an unusual expression though. Ben's victory only made Nick's inner rage grow. He was to be fighting in the finals against a white belt? Is that a joke? What a damn embarrassment!
Nick was the strongest purple belt in the dojo. Win or lose, this would be a pathetic sight for him, showing that he was matched by some random newbie who got to his level. How could he accept that?
Nick gritted his teeth as certain scenes flashed before his eyes:
Ben unconscious laying on the mat, bleeding from his nose.
Ben crying out about his broken arm as it hung loosely from his body, causing everyone around to gasp in shock.
Ben turned around from him as a truck smashed into Nick's balls from behind. 'No!'
…
His breathing became heavy as he recalled that terrifying scene…
His nutsack looked like a baseball mitt carrying potatoes after that.
…
'Why did I remember that just now?' He didn't know why the sudden instinct of fear overcame him as he thought of injuring Ben. However, he shrugged it off as being due to Ben being there at that time. In fact, he suddenly had another vision, of Ben driving that truck…flicking his fingers on and playing with a Nick-modeled bobblehead on the dash….
'This bastard!' For no reason, Nick envisioned Ben as being responsible for his tragedy. It was one of those situations where an immoral character blamed others for no reason. Except he was right in this case. It was all Ben's doing…
Either way, they'd find out who's fist carried stronger justice very soon.
After giving Ben a few minutes to rest, the referee soon announced the commencement of the final match—Ben vs. Nick. It was a classic David vs. Goliath match, one told to many youth across the world, carrying the moral that when against an impossible situation such as having to fight a much larger man who carries all the advantages, you can find victory by using trickery and illegal weapons.
…
Ben paid attention to cultural lessons growing up, so he'd be sure to not hold back against Nick, especially knowing this guy would be doing the same to him. Plus, there was a girlfriend to bang…
The two men approached the ring as all eyes were on them. from the doorway, Ricardo Barbosa scratched his stubbled chin as he peered on with interest. This was an intriguing match for him, one between a prized pupil and a new super-talent; a complete mismatch in size and weight between a heavyweight that looked like a meat mountain, and a featherweight that looked like a Pez dispenser with pubic hair glued on top.
…
Ricardo, the grandmaster himself, wasn't sure how this would turn out, looking forward to it as he smirked with a thoughtful expression.
"Excuse me?"
Ricardo looked back to see a janitor with a mop who looked annoyed. "Sir, you've been standing in this doorway, blocking anyone from entering or exiting for a very long time…"
The large Brazilian boss looked around, noticing a few people who looked impatient, having been waiting for him make way for them. He looked back inside the tournament room and noticed a few blue belts with faces with veins sticking out, their knees bent as they occasionally patted their crotches. They obviously needed to go to the bathroom to take a piss…
He realized all these people didn't want to say anything because he was the Head of the Dojo and expected him to move at some point…
The janitor sighed. "Sir, would you please enter a room more often?"
Ricardo blinked.
"Doorways were meant to be entered and exited, Sir, not stood in to block everyone's path. You always do this, Sir… I can never clean half the rooms."
A trace of awareness passed through Ricardo's wise eyes, as he realized the potential reason why half the mats were always so dirty…
Clearing his throat, Ricardo put on a serious expression as he looked at the janitor and all the people around. They expected him to apologize or explain himself. He did, in his own way. "It wasn't safe in there…"
…
They squinted at him…as Ricardo stepped out of the way. "You can pass now. I've secured the perimeter."
…
They almost didn't want to pass anymore… Still, the finals were about to start, so they ignored Ricardo's self-important expression as people entered the room to watch, and some exited to go to the bathroom as some drops started coming out…
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