“why follow your dreams when you can follow me?”

Sully – 2022

Sensei Shihan’s Humble Abode

Sensei Shihan was a dirty swindler and a cheat. He was a 45-year-old man, with a balding head of hair, stubby arms, and a round potbelly. He held his “Karate” classes 3 times a week, teaching what he learned watching old Kung Fu movies to his eager-to-learn students. His illegal dojo, earned by a reputation of black-mailing and his handy taser, was located at 195 St. Just Road, Trujillo Alto, Puerto Rico, was home to one-to-many wannabe karate black belts. Inside the dojo, it was hot, sweaty, and simply disgusting. The black foam mats were scavenged from the local Planet Fitness, who had accused Sensei Shihan of swindling for profit, and it was hard to say otherwise, when you realized that Sensei Shihan charged $50 an hour for his “expert” karate lessons. If you couldn’t pay up the ridiculous amount of money, Sensei Shihan would give you a dirty look, and put you on his hitlist, so he could take care of you after class. Sometimes, if a student was acting bad in class, Sensei Shihan would call over the islands most feared criminal, Shef, and tell him to put the student in his soup. It was a frightening ordeal for the student, but it meant free food for Shef.

After Karate lessons, Sensei Shihan would run off to the supermarket, Pueblo, and jump into the dumpster. He would wait until morning, when the garbage truck came, and get a free ride to the landfill where he lived. When Sensei Shihan arrived at the landfill earning one Sunday morning, he realized that something was missing. He scampered up a huge mountain of car tires and opened the door to his humble abode, a medium-sized cave inside the mountain of trash. Years of living in the landfill had corroded his nostrils so that he couldn’t smell anything other than the “fresh” scent of bananas. Sensei Shihan’s neighbor, ‘Rodin’ Gordin’ was happy in his house. He corroded anything he touched, included valuable metals like titanium and iron. Today was movie-night, and Sensei Shihan had the perfect film. It was a cheesy kung-fu movie about a man who wanted to be trained by a kung-fu master. Sensei Shihan liked pretending that he was the kung-fu master, as if he knew anything about the ancient martial art. Sensei Shihan rummaged through his moldy drawers. “Nani?” he gasped. Where was the movie cassette? There was only 1 working VCR TV in the entire landfill, and it had taking him years of testing each one. Suddenly, there was knocking at the door. Sensei Shihan scrambled to open it. When he did, he was met with a gruesome sight: ‘Rodin’ Gordin’, in all his glory. His hands were the color of pure rust, and anything he touched turned to dust. Clenched in his meaty fists was the only kung-fu movie in the entire landfill. Sensei Shihan howled with misery as he watched ‘Rodin’ do what he did best, corrode.

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