My Cobra Guy

Episode Twenty-Seven

After three hours of preparation, which included full face makeup, false eyelashes, manicures, and styled wigs, and of course, items from Regina's own wardrobe, she and her surrogate Plastics were ready. Regina had to admit that she'd done a good job. The makeup wasn't too heavy, but she was skilled enough to play with different foundation colors to make their bone structure look different. She was taking no chances here; Demetri and Hawk did not have the resources available to Regina.

Tonight, Regina wore a black bob and candy apple red lips, with a mini skirt and glittery heels. Two long brown braids hung over Demetri's shoulders. He'd selected a pleated white skirt (from a cheerleader costume) and one of Regina's purple button downs. Some of the clothes from when Regina had gained weight fit them well enough.

Hawk had covered his signature hair with a red, wavy wig Regina had once worn with a mermaid costume. None of these wigs were the cheap kind from costume stores. She'd encouraged the guys to stay away from anything that looked too much like Miyagi-Do people's hair. With some stretch of the imagination, Demetri's could look a little like Sam's, but Sam's was much longer.

Hawk fidgeted with the hem of the green chiffon dress - a loose-fitting piece, which made it ideal for the situation. She wondered how uncomfortable they both were in their stuffed bras.

Each had one cardboard box, stuffed with supplies, including some screenshots of texts Kreese had exchanged with Gretchen. Oh, those would be fun. One depicted a shirtless Kreese trying to look sexy for a bathroom mirror selfie. Fortunately, it was only from the waist up.

Regina had spent days planning this, starting over a week ago by creating a new social media account for an alias named Abby, who consequently had black hair and favored red lipstick. Abby was a Miyagi-Do fangirl, and she had a whole page dedicated to Miyagi-Do. This had required compiling pictures of Regina's dojo companions and writing nice, slightly obsessive things about them. She'd been referring to her website, mentally, as the Anti-Burn Book. A.B.B., which was how she'd arrived at her Abby alias.

The driver dropped them off in front of a jazz bar, about a block from Cobra Kai. Regina was giddy with excitement. She'd come up with some elements of the plan after the discussion about the word "pussies." If Johnny were trained by Kreese, she'd bet the two had some similarities. In fact, she was banking on it.

To their credit, the two boys worked quickly, with zero protests. And when the job was done, Regina urged them to climb atop the strip mall and record. She was going to stay down here and record the fun. She'd have stayed herself, but the other two wouldn't let her remain alone. It was easy for one person to run and escape than three. And, if she were caught, she'd get out of it. Her position behind a parked car was as videographer. Besides, she hadn't come unarmed either.

* * * * *

"What did you think?" John Kreese asked his old friend once he'd dismissed the class. They'd been training hard for the tournament.

"Your real butchers are going to be Tory and Robby. Robby, though, he'll put salt in Danny-Boy's wounds, before we bring him to his knees." Terry Silver stepped into the light, his ponytail now as silver as his name. "Get closer to the boy. Be a father figure to him."

"You read my mind," Kreese said. "Happy to have you come back and sponsor the All State this year."

"How could I miss it? We're reaching our twilight years. We can't let our legacy be unfinished. This time, it's going to be a slaughter." Terry's voice was raspy from decades of the finest cigars.

"This all, this makes me feel young again, alive!" Kreese waved a hand at the dojo.

"So where are Danny-Boy and your Johnny now?" Silver asked. "At Miyagi-Do?"

"Who knows where Johnny is. He lost his house after a concussion," Kreese said. "Probably living out of a van. And Danny-Boy's getting a divorce." As Kreese saw it, Daniel's wife had grown exasperated with the strain the Cobra Kai had put on their family.

"You may be older, but your touch is as brutal as ever," Terry purred. "Hitting them where it hurts. And now Johnny's son is yours."

Before Kreese could share more of his achievements, shouts rang out from the front of the building.

What could've happened? He was supposed to text his Gretchen Milf, who was supposed to be back from Cabo this weekend.

Kreese hurried to the front entryway. The front room of the dojo, the part students and their parents saw first, was covered in pink and white streamers. Crepe purple and sky blue circles dripped from the ceiling. On the end of each was a dangling tampon.

The Cobra Kai motto was covered in maxi pads, carefully arranged so they now spelled out the words. On each pad, in red ink, was written "Strike hard!"

And above the motto, on poster-sized paper was a photo of Kreese, one he'd sent Gretchen. Beneath it was his text to her, "Thinking of you, Tomato. Believe me, I strike HARD."

"Gretchen?" Kreese panted, remembering the winking picture of the curly-haired brunette.

"There's more out front," Brucks shouted, pointing at the windows, which had more maxi pads, spelling out "Cobra Kai." And adult diapers and, worst of all, those pictures of his text to Gretchen.

"Calm down," Silver said, squeezing Kreese's shoulder. "Who is Gretchen? One of Miyagi-Do?"

The students slowly turned to Kreese and Silver, looking away from the humiliating, girly destruction.

"This...this has to be Miyagi-Do's work," Robby said.

"Probably Sam," Brucks replied. "Definitely a girl's work. No guy in that dojo would go and buy tampons."

"Why not?" Kyler asked. "They all use them. Pussies."

Kreese's students became more and more like him with each lesson.

"This isn't, this isn't something Sam would do," Robby said slowly. "Sam would just tell us off."

"This pisses me off," Tory said. "You know how much these cost and these people just waste them? Sam's rich. She could afford to do this."

"Silence!" Terry snapped his fingers and turned to Kreese. "Who is Gretchen, John?"

Kreese's face burned with rage and shame. He'd been deceived. "She's...she's a woman I've been talking to."

"Last name?" Terry already had pulled out one of those annoying phones.

"Milf," Kreese replied.

A squealing giggle escaped Kyler. He was instantly silenced by Kreese's withering glare.

"Don't giggle in my dojo. You sound like a schoolgirl," Kreese snapped. "Why is that funny? Huh? Because I got deceived?"

"N-no," Kyler said stiffly, his hands folded behind his back. "It's what MILF stands for."

"And what does it stand for?" Kreese snarled, getting up nice and close so he could smell the fear on Kyler's breath. These kids were his tools, his weapons of war.

"Mom I'd Like to Fuck," Kyler said.

"Give me a hundred push-ups!" Kreese barked. "Any one of you ladies want to giggle more?"

"No, sensei!" they chorused.

Kreese barreled toward the front door and shoved it open on the off chance someone was out there.

"Show yourselves! This you, Miyagi-Do?"