fandomhigh | Punching People for Fun and Profit, Period 1 [Class Six

Fred had the class meet in the Danger Shop again today.

"So, here's the deal," Fred said. "Today's the first of the explorations into various real world options you have for using these violence skills. We're gonna have practical exercises. So be prepared to freak the hell out. And dress appropriately."

He laughed.

"Today, we're covering something that's often the poor job of underpaid rent-a-cops. Bodyguarding. Simply put, your duty is to protect somebody from getting hurt. Now, this usually means that they have reason to think their life is in danger. Whether it's a pop star, an actor, or a politician, you pretty much become their own special thug. You make sure the wrong people can't get near them, and make the persistent idiots stop being persistent. Also, yeah, you might have to take a bullet if you're feeling noble."

"Today, you'll get to do group, pair, or individual work. You'll get put into a random scenario of someone you have to protect. You might have to deal with overzealous fans, or a pitchfork wielding mob, or just about anything. So get your group ready, let me know, and I'll start the program for you."

[ooc: ~~OCD first, please~~ Open for business!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Pardon my ignorance," Tybalt sighed, at least attempting to be civil, here, "but what, pray, is a 'Bomb-Omb?'"

Tybalt, Tybalt, Tybalt. You ought to know by now that asking these things is never a good idea.

As if anyone couldn't see this one coming.

On marched a couple Bombs with clockwork keys and legs (http://nintendo.wikia.com/wiki/Bob-omb).

They had sparking fuses. Uh-oh!

Those bombs were walking.

Why were those bombs walking? What kind of insane individual actually thought to make clockwork bombs that walked?

Why hadn't Tybalt thought of it first?

Either way, he had his doubts that kicking an explosive device was actually a good idea. At all. And so he was going to make to grab the Princess by the wrist in order to lead her around the walking fucking bombs. That would work, right?

"What are you doing?" the Princess said. "We can't go that way!"

It was like she was used to only moving in two dimensions. She wanted to go in a straight line.

"We... cannot?" Okay, walking bombs be damned, he had to take a moment to stare at the Princess as though she'd started to randomly degenerate into a mushroom, or something ridiculous like that. "Prithee, why?"

This was absolutely ridiculous. Can't go around them.

"We have to go that way!" the Princess said, pointing down the long red carpet to the door.

Sigh.

"Of course we must."

At least the path was laid out nice and neatly in front of them?

Fine. If they couldn't go around them, then he was going to do something drastic. He was going to move to scoop the Princess into his arms. Try telling him not to do that.

And the Princess did not object.

The Bob-Ombs, however, marched closer and closer.

Okay. Right, then. Tybalt now had the Princess in his arms, and those little bombs seemed small. He could probably manage a running leap right over them.

And if his hand just so happened to 'slip' so that it was resting on her breast somewhere in mid-air, what of it? He was absolutely making certain that she was secure in his arms. Yes. That was it.

And then the Princess started swinging at Tybalt. With an umbrella.

She didn't take kindly to groping.

Okay, so, there was a Princess, trying to kill him with a parasol, which was only mildly less unpleasant than the bombs would have been, but they were almost at the bloody door, now, and if he could just...

Oh, whatever. He was setting her down already and scowling at her.

"Wouldst thou have me drop thee, instead?"

Yes, Tybalt. Play up that 'securing my grip' card. See how well that does you.

And then, at the door, there was a moustached man (http://digitalmediaacademy.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/super_smash_bros_mario_01.jpg) in blue overalls and a red cap.

"Unhand her, you ruffian!" he said. "It's-a me! Ramio!"

By this point, Tybalt could only stare. And wonder idly at the vague sense of sibling rivalry he was feeling toward this plumber.

"Thou might consider her as good as unhanded," he hissed, putting his hands in the air. "I have carried out my task, she is delivered safely to another castle. Do with this shrew as thou dost please, for I'll have no more of her."

He liked girls better when they let him grope them, damn it.

And then a weird bit of music (http://www.entertonement.com/clips/sqtxglpthf--mario-level-end) played.

And the crazy multi-colored world faded away.

... Leaving Tybalt to stand there, wondering what the hell had just happened.

Ah well. At least he'd gotten to kick things.

Punching People for Fun and Profit, Period 1 [Class Six | 10/7/2009]

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