As we sat at the bar and Terry chided me for falling behind the Big Ron drinking pace and reminded me to knock back a third of my Coors light as he opened the next round, Big Ron said, “I got a knife versus martial arts one for you.”
“Do tell,” asked the hoary hoodrat.
“Okay, my buddy is about fifty, a guy I work with, who just told me about this incident that happened ten years ago. So this is 2011.
“The family is having a cookout at his Old Man's house. The Old Man is a tough old veteran, fought in Vietnam and Desert Storm and retired from the Army. He's 75 now, was 65 when this happened.
“My buddy is cooking on the grill when his sister, who was a good ten years younger, starts arguing with her boyfriend. The boyfriend is a martial arts guy, thirty years old. He is hitting her in front of the family. Her father steps up to this guy and has words. My buddy is watching this from the grill where he is cooking.”
…
[Laughs] “No, not the grill knife. This is a pocket knife story.”
“Then, all of a sudden, this thirty-year-old martial arts guy starts punching and kicking the 65-year-old father, drives him against the car, grabs him by the head and neck—you know, the Muay Thai clinch—and is kneeing this old man, who is not only more than twice his age but smaller. Can you imagine, breaking out the entire MMA toolkit on an old man at a cookout?
…
“Reprehensible.”
…
[Turns and follows the author's gaze on the TV newscast.]
“I know, the weather just isn't what it used to be. That's still Meg MacNamara. But she lost some weight—titties aren't as big as they used to be. But she's still pretty and has a nice ass. Guess we're fortunate they didn't replace her with a tranny.”
…
“The old man grabs his pocket knife [motions to right hip with right hand] and stabs this fucker right under the heart [demonstrates pronated inward stab] behind the elbow, right in the ribs, and deflates the lung. The guy has blood soaking his chest and back immediately and was squirming around on the patio.”
[We both share a laughing toast to the Old Man!”]
“There was blood everywhere. When the cops show up, my buddy is squirting the blood off the patio with a hose while people are keeping this asshole from dying and the cops give him shit about “tampering with evidence.” They were actually threatening to bring “obstruction of justice” charges against him, and he's like, 'Fuck you, I'm squirting this blood off my patio.' ”
“The cops don't charge my buddy. The ambulance takes away the boyfriend and he lives. The cops talk to the Old Man and see his face is all beat up, that it was a classic disparity of force scenario with witnesses and that he only stabbed him once, and no charges are filed. A rare happy ending.
“Martial arts douche bags. Well, my buddy's sister stays with this asshole for another two years, until he finally beats her up so bad that she's had enough and leaves him. What a dumb bitch—but not any dumber than these martial arts assholes that blow off knives, and not near as stupid as these guys that are getting their masculinity advice from known homosexuals.”
“You want a ride back to the ditch?”
…
“Safe travels out west. I'm drawing the line at 15 more years. I'm not going to pass 60 in this shit hole. I wanna be able to get up in the morning, walk outside in my underwear, piss on the lawn and shoot off my gun without worrying about the damned police.”
