The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The One Where Ayden Kills A Dude

My respite is cut short, quite literally, as a minotaur clad in jet-black armor appears out of nowhere and lunges at me with a scimitar. I can barely roll out of the way in time for the sword to embed on the ground where I was sitting a second ago.

The minotaur heaves the sword back, giving me a roaring bellow while taking a few steps back, assessing the situation. My back is against a vine wall, flanked by another wall, and the path I came from, now full of reverse-medusa guts and fire in the distance. There is only one thing to do, and a thing Master Kirby would surely be proud of me doing: dodge at the last second and make the bull hit the wall, hurting itself, and maybe get his horns stuck there for good measure.

No bloodshed, no violence, just pure cartoon slapstick. A great plan all around.

I square up against the minotaur, and he seems to do the same, huffing through his snout while scratching the ground with his back hoof. We have a stand-off in our hands.

He sure doesn't look like making the first move, and I can't blame him. I don't see any minotaur face in the scoreboard, and I'm at a very respectable eighth place. He has a huge-ass sword, but me? Only a piece of paper and off-brand sunglasses. Why risk making the first move and be blindsided by an opponent he doesn't know the capabilities of? Waiting is the best course of action for him right now.

But not for long.

Four minutes left and counting. He has to make a move if he wants my points. The more time it passes, the more desperate he will be. The faster he gets stuck in the vines like a good looney toons cartoon, the better. So, there's only one thing I can do to speed this up.

I ever so gently take my leather jacket off, not breaking eye contact with a somewhat confused minotaur, and grab it with both hands. I bend my knees slightly, wave the jacket like a matador's cape in front of me to taunt him while clicking my tongue and whistling, and give him a mocking smile.

It takes him a few seconds to register what's happening, but his eyes go from confused to angry in a flash. The minotaur bellows once again, tossing the scimitar next to him, opting for charging straight at me horns first.

A guttural sound, like the car muffler of someone compensating for a micropenis and no motherly love, comes from his throat, and I can barely hear a word in the midst of the incomprehensible cacophony:

"Yield!" yells the minotaur.

I wave my cape one last time before rolling right at the last second. The minotaur hits the vines with a thud and a crack, hard enough that I even feel the ground itself shake.

"Ole, puto," I yell as I turn around to see him not embedded into the vines, but staring at me furiously.

He, at the last second, shitted his head, hitting the wall with his shoulders instead of his horns. Cartoons and videogames have failed me yet again!

There's nothing I can do now. I'm flanked on each side by vines, so dodging is out of the question. I can't retreat because the ball of fire and seared snake is behind me, blocking my path. And the only way moving forward is being blocked by the pissed minotaur. This can't get any worse.

I can see the flames behind me being reflected in the minotaur's round eyes. Suddenly, he takes a step forward to lunge at me, and my stupid doodoo body's response is to step back. Unfortunately for my doodoo body, my foot gets caught in some wreckage, making me fall backward, ass first. My sphincter immediately relaxes upon landing and... well, would you look at that. I had a shit to give after all. A very wet one.

The minotaur takes two big sniffs before scrunching his face in disgust. Like he's mister clean himself! He has a braided bear and everything. Nobody with a braided bear has seen a shower in decades.