Dojo Nonsense

You gotta read the last 2 Friday's posts to be up to speed on this series of tales on fisticuffs if you haven't yet. Week 1 and Week 2.

I think I've successfully established the fact that Sensei Clause is mentally chaotic, and if I haven't, then this one might add to the foundation.

You know that HMT and I were assistant instructors at our dojo. Probably the best experience we had as assistant instructors, aside from the fact that we got to teach darling young kids like Sammy, was practical hands on knowledge. Whats that? Yeah, Sammy, the kid that would announce, "I have two moms," out of the blue. The kid couldn't throw a straight punch to save his moms from a gay bashing, but we took his money anyway and tried to make him a better person. Chances are, young Sammy lives in Hillcrest and sits on knobby, scepter-shaped objects to pass the time.

Sorry, but as you know, I do enjoy a good off-story. Alright, so HMT and I are working our way up the corporate ladder, had honest aspirations of one day opening our own dojo and enabling a ninja army to take out hippies on the weekend. We did what we were told and ran a tight ship. We were probably the best asset Clause had ever had in the dojo bcuz we cared and we were dedicated. All the praise and honorable mentions I can bring to the table regarding our service still didn't make Clause hesitate when it came to screwing his best and favorite students over in a heartbeat.

There came times when Clause would tell HMT and I to open the dojo and teach some morning classes or evening classes. No problemo, we had our own keys.. it was our pleasure. Then came the day when we were told to do this, came the next day, did it again, and again and again. Days went by, Clause was MIA. We were in session for college, we didn't have all the time in the world to keep the dojo open let alone run a business. HMT would be there damn near all day and I would come in to back him up during the evenings when I was out of class and stay till close.

It started getting very awkward with parents of the teens and kids bcuz being superstar juggernauts, as HMT and I are, we are not certified instructors and they don't pay the big bucks to have us teach their kids. This became a big problem as we had no fucking clue what to tell these people anymore. I think we just lied and said he had a death in the family or some shit.. but after a week or so, this lie became bullshit and the parents knew it. This was probably the first real mark sullying my opinion regarding Clause as a professional figurehead.

So after a good 8-9 days, give or take, Clause finally returns. He gives a call into HMT at the dojo the afternoon he came back. Clause makes a big deal of it and can't thank us enough for covering his ass while he was gone.. he better had. Clause also promises "gifts" to HMT and myself for being such outstanding individuals. Dollar signs abounds! I wasn't able to make it there that night to welcome him home and to receive my compensation, to my dismay.

End Result and why this story is worthy of Angry Time:

Clause strolls into the dojo after hours as HMT is closing up. Clause thanks HMT and tells him that he has an awesome gift for him. HMT has no clue. Clause starts talking golf. HMT likes golf and about that time in his life was just a budding player. HMT is thinking, "Holy shit golf clubs!" It wasn't golf clubs. Clause starts to talk about a new driver that he bought while he was "away".. HMT is now thinking, "Holy shit! He bought two and is going to give me a new driver!" It wasn't a new driver.

No Angry Timers. Instead, Clause had purchased himself a new driver and gave HMT his old, tired, used, beat up driver from the turn of the 20th century. So basically, you fine young man, took care of my business, prevented parents from rioting and in turn I will give you my used driver which has a street value of $50. HMT was livid, as you can imagine, but what do you do when you are pissed off at a guy that can plunge his pinky through your entire leg. That's right.. you thank him.

HMT then questions Clause, "Where the hell have you been? Is everything okay?"

Clause's response makes last week's tale look not only feasible but commonplace. It went a little something like this:

"I went to Vegas to enter an Underground Martial Arts Tournament. Full-contact, no holds barred. It took all week. The crazy shit? I won."

Wow, that's awesome, thought HMT, but he thought this all too soon.

Clause continued, "The grand prize was $1,000,000. The rest of the weekend I went nuts. I spent all the money on myself in Vegas that weekend."

Right.. of course he did.. and apparently thought it fit to come home with a commemorative souvenir in Golf Club Driver form. So, Clause is trying to pass off that he spent $1 Mil in a few days after winning a frikkin Kumite.. oh and by the way, he didn't have a scratch on him nor did he show any signs of combat on his body. How's that for credibility?