'Teh king!'

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About a decade ago, pretty much in the same heart shape condition I am in now, I had a lot of contact with some of my cousins.  When men interact there is always... a little tension.  Essentially, men have to settle things.  However, being that... I am a giant... and full blood warrior... none of them wanted to test those waters.  But... it was getting... tense.  So, being magnanimous as I am, wise, kind, and just, *evil grins*, I suggested that they team up, along with another friend, and we go to town in a wrestling match.  Three healthy young males against a 35 year old (now we know weak-hearted man) in all out, do what it takes, wrestling.  No real rules, save no punching.  If family jewels came into play, I just said what comes around goes around, which... pretty much took them out of the debate.  I pwned them as if they were little girls.

The one I really had to watch for, actually, and knew it, was my littlest cousin.  Small, truly diminutive.  At maybe 5'2", he was razorblade fast and devious as a viper.  I kid you not.  He had evil intent too, it's in the eyes.  He was the one who would later attack me from behind for not liking something he said and bruising my ribs by tripping me into a counter.  I blogged about it when it happened.  The others?  Meh.  The first thing I did was put a hand clasp on the fast one as they approached.  I didn't let him see it coming, and yet I am faster than him anyway.  But in a group arena, my attention might otherwise have been distracted long enough for him to crawl up and put me in a choke hold, and I think that was his plan.  At that time, the others could have... eliminated my ability to get him off and defend from them.  It was pretty intense, no real rules, and they were... ready to put me down.  They had had enough of my dominance.

Locked on, I was able to deal with the other two pretty quickly, getting one to surrender almost immediately, taking about five minutes.  With him out, I decided to deal with the fast one.  Without his speed and agility in play, he was cake.  The final one just would not give.  I finally got him to at least concede that he could never win.  For me to have gotten him to actually concede defeat would have... been too destructive.  It took a good half hour to win, but... yeah.  Bruises, scrapes, scratches, sore, and tired, sure. None of us was unscathed.  We hit it hard, and I fell a few times with 400 to 500 pounds of angry little men on top of me.  Funny thing, to be honest, I am in better shape now in many ways than I was then.  Yeah, for a dead guy, I'm doing alright.

You should have seen how trashed the three rooms we wrestled through were. We THOUGHT we had cleared them enough before hand.  Nope!  Epic, ba-by. 

Ah, but the Lord knows I had more fun with that then I have in a long time.  Plus, no heavy bleeding, no serious injuries, and 'teh boyz' knew, once and for all, without any doubt, who was 'teh king'.  It never crossed their minds again.  As well, I gave them some much needed respect for having put up and stood against who they considered a tyrant, even in the face of absolute defeat, maybe more for that.  We had a better relationship after that.  All good.  I miss the lads. 

Picking on boys you say? Not so fast. All of us were street fighters, adult fully, of some mean reputation, one of them was nearly my size, all of us were (for them little wise) blooded heavily. No, these weren't cherry cousins who had lived a privileged life, or "sport fighters", or mere athletes.  And it WAS serious.