A Comedy of AR's (Book 2)

Chapter 20
CHAPTER 220 .......... Amnesia (Part Fourteen) ………Mano a Mano

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Chapter Description: 2 new pictures added 4/3/24 Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home

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CHAPTER  220

(NOTE:  This chapter contains violence.)

 

 

Gort tugged on his right arm but still couldn’t break it loose from the girl’s grip.  He angrily yelled at his now vertical opponent, “Call your FREAK off, Sammantha … and let’s settle this man to man like you always wanted to.

 

“I’m the freak, Gort.  Read my book.  If you ask nicely, she might release you.”

 

The man turned his head and said, “Hey ‘freak’.  Let go of my arm.”

 

“Her name is Shilo … And you forgot to say please.”

 

“Fuck this shit … Hey Shilo … Please let go of my arm.”

 

Sammantha nodded her head and Shilo obliged the request.  Then she followed up with another request.  “Shilo, could you please stand the bed up on its side and place it against the other wall so we can have more room?”

 

“Certainly, Godmother.”

 

“Godmother?” Gort sneered.  “What the fuck is that thing?”

 

Gort was ready to fight now and he pulled out his knife from its leg holster.

 

“Weren’t you paying attention, Gort?” Sammantha sneered back.  “That’s not a knife”, she said, pointing to Gort’s eight-inch weapon.  “This is a knife,” she said, pointing to her own 17-inch blade.

 

I knew that I had heard that line once before in the Crocodile Dundee movie.

 

Gort reviewed the situation and threw his knife to the floor, commenting, “I’m an unarmed man, Sammantha.” … And he held up his arms.

 

Sammantha thought she was playing fair by also tossing her knife to the floor, but when she turned back to face Gort with the words “Let’s D ….”,  Gort sucker-punched her with a hard right-handed blow to her left orbital eye socket.  I stood up but couldn’t tell if the man had broken any of those bones around her eye.  She did however sport an instant black eye and she staggered back … never completing the phrase ‘Let’s Dance’.

 

After beating up Sammantha for the better part of ten minutes, it was clear that Gort had the upper hand in what was looking more and more like a battle to the death.  But he made a mistake.  Instead of immediately following up on his attack, he spent five full seconds gloating.

 

“Ha!  I’ve waited a long time to make you pay, Sammantha … And I’m going to fuck up your little boy too.”

 

Gort then looked across the room at me.  “A knife in the back is bad form, kid.”

 

A five second pause is an eternity in marshal arts.  It gave Sammantha a brief moment to clear her head and formulate a plan.  Gort had no idea that Sammantha was a master at Wing Chun, a close-in form of combat that differs from most other marshal arts in that it dispenses with any sportsmanship.  It’s sole purpose is to maim or kill your opponent in as short a time as possible.  The trachea, or windpipe, is a common target.

 

Those who train in Wing Chun most often use a training device called a Mu Ren Zhuang, roughly translated, a wooden-man post … or ‘wodden dummy’, that has multiple arms at different levels on the post.  Quickness is the most valued asset for someone practicing Wing Chun.

 

The exact movements to come were already locked into Sammantha’s head.  Gort began as expected with a powerful round-house right hand that would have knocked Sammantha out had it landed.

 

Sammantha raised her left arm for the block, but at the same time, twisted her left wrist clockwise and matched the speed of his arm so that she was able to tightly grip his right forearm.

 

Then she swung her right arm all the way left, ‘punching the air’ so to speak below the other two locked arms. (At this moment her arms were criss-crossed.)  Then she brought her arms back toward each other, with her right arm breaking through her opponent’s right elbow with so much force, that the elbow snapped and bent 90 degrees in the worng direction. 

 

Gort’s right arm was now a useless hunk of dead weight.  The horrific pain and shock angered and panicked the man so much that his only instinct was to fight back with a very predictable counter punch with his left arm.

 

Sammantha simply mirrored her movements from a few seconds earlier, and now the man had two lame dead weights for arms.  Now he was truly an ‘unarmed’ man in a lot of pain and with little left to fight with.

 

“AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”  Gort’s primordial scream came more from frustration than pain.  He charged Sammantha again (with his next very predictable move) a kick.  He had to kick because he couldn’t use his arms.

 

Sammantha grabbed his right leg before it could reach her.  Normally in this situation, a fighter like Gort could jump and kick Sammantha in the head with his left leg.  But Gort could not extend his arms and he had no balance to make such a move.

 

Almost like a guillotine, Sammantha thrust a right knife-hand blow with her fingers into the man’s trachea or windpipe.  But she deliberately pulled her punch because she didn’t want to kill Gort (yet).

 

The man’s mouth sputtered, straining to gulp air.  He looked like a dead man walking, except he wasn’t even walking.

 

“Shilo,” said Sammantha, “could you please be a dear and slide your hands under the man’s armpits so he doesn’t topple over?”

 

“Certainly, Godmother.”

 

At this moment, Gort Canker was not in an enviable position.  Sammantha came up to him very close, face to face, but did not kiss him. She asked him, “Gort do you remember back in middle school when they asked the students to name their biggest fear in life?

 

And do you remember how most of the boys answered?  They wrote ‘My biggest fear in life is pissing off Sammantha Adams’.  There was a very good reason why they felt that way.”

 

(My brain was starting to clear up.  It felt like the fog was lifting.  The world around me was becoming familiar again.  Perhaps it was due to the second concussion when Gort threw my whole body across the room and I smashed my head against the wall.  Maybe it knocked my cerebellum and all those other brainy parts back into place.)

 

My mom was a bloody mess.  She was obviously going to need the services of an oral surgeon soon.  But right now, when I saw her retrieve her fishing knife, I was afraid that she was about to perform some surgery on her arch enemy … and I certainly wasn’t going to try to stop her.

 

She tucked the 17-inch  weapon sideways into her mouth and got to work unbuckling Gort’s trousers.

 

(Was she going to do what I think she was going to do?  I would guess ‘yes’.  The only question would be a choice of ‘beans’ or ‘fanks’.)

 

The pants came down.  Then the boxers came down.  I was starting to get queasy.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to watch this.

 

“You’re not circumsized, Gort?  Ugliness becomes you.  Let’s get this over with.”

 

Through a bruised trachea, the man moaned, “Noooooooooooooooooooooo.”

 

It was not a good time to be begging for mercy.  The next few seconds would prove that Sammantha Adams had ice water running through her veins.  She decided to go for the ‘beans’.  She grabbed the man’s scrotum and stretched it downward with her left hand … and with her right, one sharp horizontal rip turned Gort Canker into a eunuch … or a castrati if you enjoy Italian opera.

 

The man tried to scream, but not much sound was emitted from his damaged throat.  Blood poured from his groinal area and splatters of red reached to cover most areas of the bedroom … and our clothes too.

 

Sammantha held the man’s scrotum in front of his eyes and ‘spat’ some serious words at him.  (Her mouth was very bloody from her dental wounds.)

 

“You won’t be needing these, Gort … Because you NEVER had the balls to beat me!”

 

I drew up the courage to address my angry mom.  “Mom!  I’ve got my memory back!  I remember everything!

 

Her bloody mouth tried to smile.  I could barely understand her words.  “Welcome back to the land of the living, sweety.  Can you do me favor?  Give this to your Health teacher when you go to school tomorrow.”

 

Mom handed me Gort Canker’s scrotum.  I had never held a scrotum before … except maybe for Putz’s … but his was still attached.   I could feel the balls inside.

 

Once again, Sammantha drew up her patented 17-inch serrated statinless steel razor sharp fishing knife and placed it against Gort’s chest, pointed directly toward his heart muscle.

 

“And for you, Gort,” she concluded, ‘Welcome to HELL!”

 

Sammantha used two hands to thrust the large knife into the man’s heart … all the way.

 

Then she twisted the knife 90 degrees clockwise.

Then she twisted the knife 90 degrees clockwise … again.

Then she twisted the knife 90 degrees clockwise … again.

Then she twisted the knife 90 degrees clockwise … again.

And that was more than enough to end the life of Gort Canker.

 

Sammantha pulled out her knife and said, “Shilo, you may remove your hands from the man’s armpits now and allow him to drop to the floor, face first.”

 

Shilo followed the instruction and the 260 pound man landed with a loud thud.

 

“I judge this man to be evil,” Godmother.

 

“He was very evil, Shilo … and I’m sorry you had to see this, but thank you for saving my life.

 

“Your welcome, Godmother.  Does this happen often in the human world?”

 

“Too often, Shilo.  Humans and AI’s should strive to work together without resorting to violence.”

 

“Why did this human want to kill you?”

 

“We had fights when we were younger … and he wanted to continue the fight and end it.”

 

“Do humans cut off the male’s testicles as a trophy?”

 

“Wow, nothing gets past you, Shilo.  No one should do this ever.  I did it because this man tried to injure me every day when we attended high school together.  Today I lost my temper.  I will never do it again, and I hope that you will not judge me as evil for doing this.”

 

“No, you are not evil, Godmother.  I believe I somewhat understand the components of the revenge motive.

 

I ran up to Sammantha.  “Mom!  I did a terrible thing!”

 

“No you didn’t, sweety.  As soon as I saw Gort at the front door, I knew that Bimbo must have used your amnesia to manipulate you into allowing Gort into our apartment.  You did nothing wrong and everyone will be thrilled to have you back.”

 

**** KNOCK     KNOCK****   “Hi folks!  Is anyone home?  Your front door’s open!”

 

“We’re in the back room, Major,” Sammantha yelled.  “Come on back.”

 

My friend and math teacher took the necessary steps to come upon the open door to the master bedroom.  He stopped in his tracks before entering the room, whose dominant color was now red.  He was frozen in place at the sight of the great carnage before him.  His fake pipe fell out of his mouth.

 

“Welcome back, Major,” said Shilo.  “Did you enjoy your trip?”

 

He looked around the room and replied, “I doubt that my trip was as eventful as your evening.  I’m praying that you people are just playing a game here.  Perhaps the answer is that Colonel Mustard killed Mr. Body in the conservatory with a dagger … or perhaps you’re all playing a murder mystery and trying to figure out ‘who done it’.”

 

Sammantha held up her very bloody fishing knife and stated,  “I done it, Major.”

 

 

 

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