My Dream

I went to an outdoor theater play at the Scera Shell in California. I was annoyed by how much the venue, nay, the city was overpopulated with frenchmen. I was loudly saying how I hate the french when one came up and challenged me to a duel. "California-style". I was not familiar with this, but he taught me that you take a swatch ripped from the theater curtains, tie it with a tasseled tieback, and then take 10 paces. You then turn around and try to whip your opponent with the curtain end.

To me this sounds like a very inefficient duel. I suspected the rules of this game were invented by the frenchman purely out of spite and insanity.

Nonetheless, I found myself incredibly proficient with the weapon, and was soon whipping the end into the man's face. He, on the other hand, found each of his limp-wristed attempts falling short of striking anywhere near me. Soon, his nose was bleeding. I approached him, gently took his ripped curtain, and struck him down with one blow to the jaw, in order that he learn the American Way of the Duel. My heel pressed down on this neck, and his gasps for breath were hindered by the steady stream of Dr. Pepper* I released on his face.

After releasing him, I found the crowd to be appreciative, though most of them were compatriots of my challenger. They recognized an Alpha Male and were thereafter to accept my barbs and outbursts.

*Actually urine.