My 31st Birthday

***MY 31^ST BIRTHDAY***

This coming Friday (June 3^rd), I’m going to be a 31-year-old man, but I’ll still be a big kid at heart. Age is all about mind over matter: if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. I may be too old for a lot of things, but playing with action figures, playing with Legos, snuggling with animals, and writing whacky stories are not among them. Action figures of Konnor, Viktor, and Sting from the WWE are just the beginning for me. June is going to be an eventful month for me in three different ways, my birthday on the third being one of them.

On June 8^th, five days after I turn 31, I’m finally going to have my sleep study. I know this sounds boring to a lot of people, but to me, it’s the most important way I can take care of myself. Whenever I’ve refrained from doing creative activities, it was always because I was too mentally exhausted to carry on with my day. I would go to bed late and wake up late, still feeling sluggish and shitty. The sleep study will determine if I need an oxygen mask for my sleep apnea, which I probably will. Having that oxygen mask and continuing to eat healthy and exercise will be my saving grace when it comes to my lack of energy. More energy means more creativity. More creativity means a happier audience. A happier audience means a happier me.

Three days after I have my sleep study, I’m going to the White River Amphitheater in Auburn, Washington to see a concert headlined by Slipknot and Marilyn Manson with the opening act being Of Mice and Men. This means lots of scary masks, lots of scary makeup, lots of heavy ass metal, and lots of creative fuel for an author whose tank is overflowing. This will be just the first of many concerts I will attend in 2016. In July, it’s Rob Zombie X Korn with In This Moment as opening guests. In August, it’s the Pain in the Grass festival with Disturbed headlining the event. Finally, in November, I’m headed to the Tacoma Dome to see Five Finger Death Punch X Shinedown with Sixx AM and As Lions as the opening acts. Let’s get ready to rage, motherfuckers!

All in all, living on this earth for 31 years has been a great experience. I got to go on many vacations to both American and foreign places. I got to see many concerts of bands I love. I got to snuggle with many puppies and kitties over the years. I’ve written many stories and songs and had them self-published. I’ve met many wonderful people along the way. I got to do all of these things with my loving family on both sides of the marriage. The best part of all of this? I’ve got many more decades to go, many of which will be filled with even more magical moments. Never forget the power of love and happiness; it doesn’t just end after your birthday. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

The new week started a few days ago, but not to worry, because I still have a few more days left before the deadline. The prompt will be “Cracked Mirrors” and my story will be called “Subway Smackdown”. It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

Khan Shou, Monster Warrior

Venice Reyes, Human Model

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The damage to Venice’s car includes shattered mirrors.

SYNOPSIS: In a dystopian future where monsters roam the city freely, Venice’s car is vandalized as she leaves her apartment. The only way she can get to her first modeling gig without being late is to take the subway. Venice tries to find a comfortable place to sit, but the subway train is covered in filthy creatures, both in attitude and appearance. Khan Shou, a seven-foot tall piece of raw meat, takes special interest in her and tries to coax her into a romantic relationship. With no fighting skills and nobody to help her, Venice has to brave this subway ride as best as she can.

On a side note, I’m going to be featured in the WSS’s monthly magazine for submitting “Tiger Bullet Kick” in their June edition. I consider that to be an early birthday present!

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

It took me three attempts to get Christopher Brown right, so now I can set my sights on Andrew Bradley, the English mercenary from “Ninja”. For a reference picture, I think I’m going to use Freddie from the second Final Fight game. He’s got the size, the hairy body, and the military getup, so he’ll be perfect for drawing Andrew. Hopefully, it’ll only take one attempt this time. Hehe!

***BUMPER STICKER OF THE DAY***

We have a daughter in public school who hasn’t been knocked up yet. We have a son in public school who hasn’t shot any of his classmates, but he does sell drugs to your honor student. Plus, he knocked up your daughter.

Tiger Bullet Kick

Bob Rua had been through every kind of battle and shed tons of blood in his day, but even he admitted that he hadn’t seen anything yet. There would always be stronger challengers and they would always come in greater numbers. The anthropomorphic tiger wore his battle scars as badges of honor. He purposefully walked around in baggy shorts with no shirt to remind himself of the many hits he had taken. His thick striped orange fur could barely contain the bloody slashes he had endured. Most of his fur was getting grayer with every passing generation. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he would often say to himself.

Old he may be, his job of guarding the Moon Temple Mausoleum was no less important. He patrolled the inside of the stone sanctuary and marveled at the golden treasures buried in caskets with their dead owners. Taking these jewels to the afterlife would make the “clients’” journey into heaven that much richer. Any lowlife bandit who dared rob these caskets would be met with a swift kick to the gut, a punch to the jaw, knees and elbows to wherever Bob felt like throwing them, or he could employ the infamous martial arts technique, the Tiger Bullet Kick.

Bob reflected on all of the times he was forced to use such a brutal maneuver. It not only obliterated anybody who stood in its path, but it took a lot of energy out of the user. Sometimes Bob would be bedridden for three weeks straight after executing the Tiger Bullet Kick. Sometimes he would cough up blood and vomit bile. It was amazing he lived as long as he did. The thought of having to perform such a technique again made him quiver with anticipated sickness and anxiety.

Elderly age afforded him the wisdom to show restraint when it came to the technique. It also caused him to be lost in thought whenever his alertness was needed. It wasn’t until he heard feint whispering that he was snapped out of his old man gaze. With his lantern guiding his way in the dark, Bob shouted out, “Who’s there? Show yourself! Family visitations ended much earlier in the day!”

Bob was getting closer to the source of the whisper and was able to hear that the speaker was using mystical tongues. “Necromancy? Is that why you’re here? Not on my watch, you scoundrel!” The tiger monk’s sandaled feet slapped against the stone floor as hard as they could when he approached the voice further. The whispers grew louder and faster until Bob’s lantern shone on the source.

Standing over a nearby coffin was a woman in red samurai robes with her orange hair pinned in a bun and her arms extended as she was casting her spell. She slowly turned her head around to reveal her monstrous, creepy clown smile complete with sharp teeth, a bloody nose, and bloodshot eyes. Bob let out a small shiver, but at the same time maintained his fighting stance.

“So you’ve come to my temple looking for your own personal minion? You necromancers disgust me! Being dead is hard enough without freaks like you trying to make puppets out of their corpses! I could vomit all over this floor right now!” said Bob.

The clown lady laughed like a horse and arched backwards like Bob’s warning was the greatest comedy in the world. She unsheathed her katana and spoke to him in a raspy voice. “Trust me, tiger man, Viktor the Warlord is hardly the man I came here for! I’ve got much more work to do on these sacred grounds!”

The necromancer samurai licked her blade seductively before leaping into battle with the martial arts tiger. The two warriors threw kicks, punches, and slashes at each other with whooshing sound effects behind them as they dodged like athletes. They continued to fight even faster than before, causing their dodges to resemble acrobatic flips and slides. During one of the slides, Bob Rua slipped on his ass and was vulnerable for a rushing stab from the samurai clown. But as the bladed warrior bolted towards him, he shot right back up and delivered an oxygen-draining spin kick to her stomach, causing her to double over and gasp for air.

 Bob shook out his shoulders and said to his victim, “Is that all you’ve got? Are you going to finish this fight or are you just going to lie down and moan?” The clown’s answer came in the form of mocking laughter, to which the tiger monk marched over to her and lifted her head by her hair. “You think disrespecting the dead is funny? I should snap that skinny neck of yours right fucking now!”

The coffin the necromancer was working on exploded into green fire, knocking pebbles into Bob’s chest and stinging him slightly. Out of the fire came his worst nightmare, Viktor the Warlord, a seven-foot tall mummy wrapped up in filthy tape with maggots crawling all over his rotting purple skin. Viktor’s moans at first sounded like someone getting out of bed on a Monday. The moans then started to become animalistic, like a pack of wolves hungry for meat.

Bob tossed the samurai to the ground and rushed up to Viktor to deliver a furious beat down. His punches were like wrecking balls, his kicks were like sledgehammers, his elbows and knees were like battering rams, but all they did was stagger Viktor a few inches backwards.

The mummy wrapped both of his worm-infested meat hooks around Bob’s neck and hoisted him in the air while squeezing the life out of him. As the tiger man struggled to pry Viktor’s hands off, he threw even more jackhammer-like kicks to the midsection and groin area, but all he did was expend energy and darken his vision even more. Before he could completely fade away, Viktor released his grip and dropped Bob’s nearly limp body to the stone floor, causing him to nearly lose his lunch and his lungs as he coughed violently.

“Come on, tiger man,” taunted the necromancer. “Why don’t you use that Tiger Bullet Kick you’re so proud of. I know exactly who you are. You’re a dying breed of the Rua clan. You’ll probably be dead if you use that Tiger Bullet Kick one more time. Go ahead. Try it. You’re all alone in this temple. Nobody’s coming to help you. It’s do or die, my friend. Mostly just die, but you get what I’m saying.”

“Yeah, like I’m going to let you sneak out of here with the treasure once I’m dead and gone. Get lost, punk!” said Bob in a raspy voice as he staggered to his feet. This time Viktor grabbed him by the fur on his head and hoisted him high off the floor.

“It’s kill or be killed, Bob! What’s it going to be? You know you want to do it!” taunted the samurai as she did cheerleader-like hops and flips in evil happiness.

Viktor smiled at Bob with worms swirling around his teeth and tongue. His breath smelled like cow shit, almost bad enough to earn himself a KO victory. But then a bright yellow aura glowed around Bob Rua. The light radius grew beyond his prone body and the samurai clown was cheering him on. She knew what was coming and danced around like a madwoman. Viktor challenged him with an even nastier smile and said, “Do it!”

“It could kill me, but I don’t fucking care anymore! Tiger Bullet Kick!” shouted Bob. With fire and light surrounding his legs, he threw one powerful flying kick to Viktor’s chest, sending a heavenly show of golden aura throughout the temple, turning night into day and turning the moon into sunshine. The mummy warlord laughed like the monster he was before turning into a heap of dust and leaving Bob on the ground taking short and weak breaths.

The samurai spun around and tiptoed up to Bob’s lifeless body, to which she saw blood pouring from his mouth and nose. She clapped her hands happily and extended her arms to cast another necromancy spell. After her obligatory haunting whispers, she explained, “Truth is, Bob, I didn’t come here for Viktor the Warlord’s services. He was just a byproduct of a much bigger plot. I came here for you, tiger man. Forever more, you will be my undead minion. You will know your master as the great and powerful Makoto Lionheart, Gatekeeper of Souls. Now rise, you worthless scum! Rise from your slumber so that you may do that lovely Tiger Bullet Kick over and over again! Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you!”

Bob started moaning like he had sleep apnea as he got on his hands and knees and slowly stood up to face his new master. In a zombie-like drone, he said, “I shall do whatever you wish, my lord.” Makoto spun around and cheered to herself while smiling like an innocent child. “There’s just one catch,” Bob said before reaching out and grabbing Makoto by both sides of her head. “I said that the Tiger Bullet Kick could kill me, not that it would.” Makoto trembled in his vice-like grip. “I’m ready for the world’s longest nap. Would you care to join me?”

With his tiger claws buried deep into the sides of Makoto’s head, he spun her skull around multiple times before her neck muscles loosened and her neck bone snapped in two, leaving her a lifeless heap on the floor as soon as Bob released her. The tiger warrior smiled at his handiwork, but not without coughing up chunks of blood and sprawling over the corpse of his victim. As his body relaxed on what might be his last night on earth, he softly said to himself, “Man, I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Misty Blades

NAME: Misty Blades
AGE: 31
OCCUPATION: Fox Ninja
CANON: Final Fantasy Hardcore 2


Misty Blades came from the same batch of animal warrior villains as Jacob Slash. In this case, she was formerly known as Atir Mystblade and she was scheduled to be a kitsune ninja. I have no idea where I got the idea to create a bunch of animal warriors, but the influence for Misty Blades could easily be traced to Magic: the Gathering. This was around 2005 and 2006, so this would have been the time where Hasbro was releasing Japanese-themed cards such as samurais, ninjas, dragons, demons, and of course, anthropomorphic animals. The Kitsune Blademaster, a fox samurai with first strike and bushido 1, was one of my favorite cards to use in white decks and could have very well been the inspiration for Misty Blades even though Misty is a ninja and not a samurai.

Seeing as how Final Fantasy Hardcore 2 went defunct before I had the chance to use my animal warrior bosses, Misty didn’t get much of a chance to shine. She has no background information, no storyline involvement, and no real reason for being created in the first place. All I wanted was a fox ninja who could slash shit up and get the fuck out of dodge before anybody caught her. Foxes are cool. Ninjas are cool. Fox ninjas are really goddamn cool! She had a lot of buzz generated, but I didn’t know what to do with her. She was comparable to CM Punk, who was signed to WWE right around the time Misty Blades was conceived (2005-2006). Punk earned a lot of fame around the world, but was creatively stifled in WWE because nobody knew what to do with him.

I’m not going to let Misty Blades leave my creative world the same way CM Punk left WWE after being battered, bruised, and sore for many years. Don’t get me wrong; Misty is going to take a beating one way or another, but not for the wrong reasons. Misty is going to count for something. In the case of her next story (which would in reality be her first one), she will play the role of a villain. Yes, foxes are cute and don’t normally act like villains, but then again, some ninjas do act like villains. And if I completely have to strip Misty of her cute factor, I could always give her razor-sharp teeth, drooling rabies, and neon green eyes. Seriously, what’s it going to take for my audience to see how dangerous and how bitchy this fox woman is? Her last name is Blades, for Christ’s sake.

So what kind of villainy role could we give to Misty and flesh out her resume a little bit? She could be a heartless mercenary. She could assassinate someone for political reasons. Hell, let’s combine those two things and make her into one badass bitch! It worked perfectly for Mileena from Mortal Kombat 2. Yes, Mileena looks nice on the outside, but when she takes off her mask and reveals her sword-like teeth and witch-like nose, you’d better run for the fucking hills, my friend! Maybe that’s what it takes for Misty Blades to be a convincing villain. She could easily be a fox version of Mileena! Oh, my inner geek is going nuts right now! If I’m not careful, I could have a nerd-gasm all over my keyboard! Actually, having any kind of orgasm for Mileena is virtually impossible (unless you leave her mask on, of course).

What about the weapons Misty will carry? We know she’s going to use a sword since most ninjas do. But what if the edges on that sword were jagged and bloody? What if she was using nunchucks made of thigh bones? Or a ribcage shield? Or a flail that’s really just someone’s spinal column and skull? How about a shuriken made entirely out of monster teeth? If your inner geek is ready for a mental institution just like mine is, get ready for this: a spear with deer antlers at the end instead of a steel tip! Or a whip that’s really a live snake! With all of these possibilities for her character and her weapon choices, it makes me wonder why she was unemployed in the first place! Hehe!

The last thing I’ll harangue you guys with his Misty’s dialogue. When I write dialogue for my characters, I try to make it as realistic as possible. If I wanted to add some witty dialogue for a character with a sharp tongue, I could very well do that. But would that work for a monstrous fox like Misty? I’m leaning towards grunts and gurgles, myself. Or she can have no dialogue at all. Or she could swear up a storm. It would have to be something crude enough to make her a monster and mysterious enough to make her a ninja. Maybe a steel tongue isn’t the best option for her. Oh well, there are other characters I can give snappy dialogue to. No sweat!

When I was looking for post-college employment from 2010 to 2013, the only experience I had was educational. Since I’ve never had paid employment before, I had to enhance my resume to make my education look like a blessing straight from the heavens. I wasn’t successful in finding a job. However, I did a little resume enhancement with Misty Blades despite her not being experienced. The difference is, Misty is going to make her mark sooner rather than later. And that mark is probably going to be a trail of blood, bones, and vomit leading all the way to the tip of her jagged sword. Yikes!

　

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“We were born and bred to rip and shred!”

-Konnor, one half of The Ascension-

"Rebellion" by CFO$

For my 29^th birthday, my sister-in-law turned platonic life partner Susan got me a Roku device, which is basically an on-demand service for my TV. One of the things I downloaded with this Roku was the WWE Network and one of the shows I watch on the WWE Network is NXT, where superstars put on kick-ass matches until they’re called to the main WWE roster to perform on Raw or Smackdown. Two of those wrestlers who brutalize their opponents and climb the ladder of success are Konnor and Viktor, better known as The Ascension.

Every WWE superstar and diva needs their own entrance music to psych them up before a big match. Those entrance themes are created by CFO$. So what kind of music do you give two barbarians like Konnor and Viktor, who both have bodies of Greek titans and the rage of jungle beasts? In order to match their primitive aggression, you need music that is equally aggressive and hard-hitting. That’s where the CFO$ song “Rebellion” comes in.

If you’re standing in the opposite corner from The Ascension and you hear “Rebellion” in all of its heavy metal double bass drum glory playing, you’d better be wearing a diaper. Those two barbarians aren’t there to magic tricks or put on a ballet recital. Konnor and Viktor are there for one reason: to rip their opponents to pieces like a pack of rabid wolves on a wounded deer. You talk about meat on the table? That’s cute, because in order to feed The Ascension’s appetite for blood and flesh, you’d need an entire meat truck full of juicy morsels.

Listening to badass heavy metal music and watching The Ascension in action is very inspiring for an author like me who uses anger and aggression in his writing. Along with Diablo II, this NXT tag team has restored my faith in the barbarian’s ways. Eat, sleep, rage, repeat. I too wish to have characters in my story who emulate this violent lifestyle. I’m already trying to do that with Deus and Diva Shadowheart and their Fireball Nightmare story. I’ve already done it with short stories in my Dragon Machinegun e-book. I will do it again with Dragon Machinegun 2: Reload.

The barbaric tribes are hungry and there’s so much tender flesh for them to consume. To quote Ryback before he turned heel in the WWE, feed me more! And who cares about forks and knives when you’ve got an oversized battleaxe in either hand. Or a morning star. Or a sword. Or a spear. Or maybe even the NXT Tag Team Championship belts. Either way, somebody is having lunch today and it’s going to be delicious!

　

***WRESTLING QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Everything I say goes right over Michael Cole’s head. It’s like throwing a Frisbee to a guy sitting down.”

-John “Bradshaw” Layfield-