Everyone has a Song…

Until They Get Punched in the Face

Some of you do not know this about me, but I have been practicing to become a Viking rock star black smith when I retire. By practicing, I mean I have been singing Karaoke at Wild Bill’s venue every Friday night. Viking blacksmithing is another story. Probably.

Well, I’m afraid my application to Valhalla’s rock star department was not advanced last night.

It all started out quite harmlessly. I gave a little introduction before my first song, as I often do. 

“Some of you don’t know this about me, but I do all my own stunts.”

The steps onto the stage had been replaced with a stool, that I was certain I would misjudge at some point before the night was over. And what kind of Viking Rock Star uses a stunt double.

But I continued.”So if I fall off the stage tonight, it is all part of the show.”

At some point later on, this kid took his turn at the mic and for some reason came right up to me afterwards and said “I know I sucked.”

I said “No, you were fine.”

I was lying. He was terrible.

Loki approved my message.

 

He was quite insistent though. He had heard his singing and knew he was Wild Bill’s worst singer of the night. He then put his forearm on my chest and insisted he had sucked (he was correct) and tried to push me backwards.

Unsure exactly what he was tryng to do, I braced myself. Having stopped a 300lb Samoan dude in his tracks in a previous incident I certainly was not going to get pushed around by some skinny kid who couldn’t sing.That prior time the big guy was trying to get past me to tear a drunk kid’s limbs off. I’m sure he deserved it, but how was he to learn a lesson with no arms or legs. In any case little Frankie Sinatra, last night’s kid was not, and I was pretty pretty he sure had no good reason to be pushing me when a worthy man did not.

I warned him to stop and pushed his arm off my chest, but he was quite persistent. He replaced his arm and became a bit more aggressive. I pushed back, reversing his direction but in hind sight this was likely the opening he was looking for. He drew back and sucker punched me with a nasty elbow strike to the face.

“Really. REALLY?!?” I aked in astonishment and stepped toward him using the defensive tactic of blocking several more punches with my face.

Knowing I could not stay on defense forever, I started to consider my best offensive strategy as the room began to spin and wobble.

At that time, last night, I had not been in a fight since 1986 (I have now not been in a fight since last night). Also, the spinning was picking up speed.

I blocked a couple more punches with my face before the room had completed its first full rotation and before I had selected a proportional response.

I went down.

Well ain’t this some bullshit, I thought to myself and tried to use his shirt to pull myself up.

His shirt, however, was no hellp at all. It was quite flimsy and I promptly ripped apart. I landed on the floor again. Another round of punches rained down on my face.

The spinning accelerated.

I shifted focus to his leg, figuring I could hook it and take him down. I did, after all, wrestle for a year back in 1985. I caught his leg and started to work to get him to the ground, while continuing to block his punches with my face and remember thinking he hit pretty well for someone with such weak, skinny legs. 

The room spun faster, working on its next revolution.

About then, the bartender shouted “Stop,  what are you doing? He is OLD!’

Wait, what?

Fuck.

As I was progressing with my leg hook, Wild Bill and other patrons managed to pull him off and the night’s excitement was over. Except for my singing, which was quite good. And the bleeding. What kind of Viking Rock Star sings with a bloody nose.

‘’The ones destined for Valhalla.” Thor replied.

David jumped in about then and asked if the fifty or so punches had aggravated a concussion I’d been nursing since dying in a motorcycle accident last summer. 

“You’re hearing voices and shit.” David said.

What a very strange thing to say. Had David heard Thor too?

Things settlng down a bit, the bartender asked if I needed an ambulance. I assured her that I did not, I had 911 on the phone.

The 911 operator asked if I needed an ambulance.

“What? No…”

Just then the cop showed up. He asked, “Do you need an ambulance?”

“No, no I do not.” I insisted and started writing out a statement outlining the night’s events in great (not full of shit) detail.

The officer noticed I was limping and asked if the kid had punched my leg too. I informed him that no, my limping was in fact due to dying in a motorcycle accident the previous summer.

“I got better” I assured him, noticing he was eying me skeptically.

Before I finished writing my (wildly entertaining) statement, the officer returned. “I know you said you don’t need an ambulance but you look like shit so I called an ambulance.”

The ambulance crew walked up from behind the officer, “Do you need an ambulance? You look like shit.”

Ok, ok, I gave in and let the ambulance crew check me out. To see if I was dying.

Again.

Obviously they had no way of knowing that I am invincible. Also the world had been spinning in a distinctly nonequatorial manner.

“Also…also,” they added, “we pretty sure you are full of shit about not needing an ambulance.”

After the drama calmed down, I got back up to do my next song and introduced it, as I often do on my third song.  “Some of you may not know this about me, but I do all my own stunts. Tonight my stunt will be…err…was getting punched in the face 50 times.”

I performed my next song, Quiet Riot’s ‘Bang Your Head’ quite impressively.

Bang your head. Check.

After singing quite Vikingishly about banging your head, the bartender asked if I was ok.

“No, no I am not Ok,” I replied, “While I was getting punched in the face I clearly heard you tell the kid to stop it because I am old!”

The bartender assured me that she said no such of a thing! “It was, uh, a girl in the back. A YOUNG girl. Way in the back, and young.”

“First of all, that comment does not help one little bit!” I started.

“Yes she did.” Marvin interjected, nodding his head toward the bartender..

Later that night, I made it home, gave Pearl a rub on her tank and told her thank you for getting me home safely, as I always do.

She flashed her lights at me affectionately.

Author: Ken Gack

Ken would say that this kid hit like a girl. However, his only experience with that was getting slapped for the adrenalin rush by a woman powerlifter slapping him before a big competition lift. She hit much harder.

Ken also rates the Full of Shit factor of this story at 5%