How To Beat Up Anything

Approach the man holding the slice of pizza. (These instructions are for a man holding a slice of pizza in his right hand. For those targeting left-handed pizza lovers, I’m sorry, there’s no data available at this time) Look the man in the eye and firmly say, “Stop! That slice of pizza has been poisoned! Do not continue eating that delicious, yet poison-filled slice of pizza!"

He’s not going to believe you. Keep going.

“I’m warning you for the last time! It. Is. Poison. I don’t care if you’ve witnessed an entire unbroken chain of events beginning with the pie’s creation last night, ending with you holding the slice before me right this second, which convinces you of its so-called purity. They found a way to get to it!”

Grab the pizza from him while shouting “I won’t let you!” Take a huge bite from the slice, and then let out a horrific, anguished scream. Gurgle and thrash about, then say “Ughhh… body… fighting off… the poison… So… very… difficult!! YAGHHHH... Re-configuring... molecules... in stomach...”

Lion taming is easily the most pointless of all human endeavors. 

 

“Imagine, if you are capable, the once proud lion stepping meekly onto a half barrel set in front of some bleachers... Impossible, you say? No longer! … It’s very exciting, no?” 

 

When America collectively said, “I guess” he answered with “Not to give anything away, but a festive, too-tiny hat may also be making an appearance on the beast’s head. So… look for that."

 

For our purposes we’ll group the lion tamer into two categories: those with lion, and those without. For most other purposes, feel free to group them however you like. Use everything from dominant hand preference to favorite numbers and colors… even body weight. Do it any way you choose, it really doesn't concern me at all. 

Great Tiger is a contender in the boxing association showcased in the video game "Mike Tyson’s Punch Out." As you can see from the photo he's in an awful hurry to cement the "tiger" part of his name in your mind, as he's got a tiger head and skin in his corner. The "great" part, however, is still a bit of a tenuous connection. Adequate Tiger would've been more appropriate.

On a more serious note, I'd like to point out that the sanctioning body's continued blatant disregard for the rule book in regards to Great Tiger is disgraceful. That they allow him to compete in a professional  prize fight while wearing a full turban is quite troubling. All manner of foreign object or weapon could be contained within to say nothing about the turban possibly blinding Tiger himself if it came loose and covered his eyes.

 

The second egregious oversight by the commision concerns the bizarrely overgrown Clarke Gable/villain mustache currently on the Tiger's upper lip. For the commission to allow Tiger to go out there and fight with this 'stache night after night when they know damn well that current fashion finds that style COMPLETELY out of vogue is just negligent. An act that could prove damaging to not only Tiger's ego but his entire sense of indiviudal creative freedom.

What is wrong with you? No one should beat up Tom Hanks. By all accounts he is the sweetest, kindest human man to ever live. He's far too gentlemanly, far too dignified - topped to the brim as he is with Americana and aw-shucks appeal... perhaps even a dash of down-home-iness*- to engage in such a barbaric ritual. He'll leave that to the less evolved creatures, namely, you, me and everyone else.

Not only should no one be attempting to beat up Tom Hanks, Tom Hanks should not be attempting to beat up anyone else. Neither the punchee nor the puncher should Tom Hanks be. In fact, I don't think he should even be anywhere near any sort of fisticuffs situation. (Fistuation? If you nodded "no" to yourself, you are correct.) Ever. Not in any capacity.

Ok, let's say an omnipotent alien-being comes down from the stars with a special freeze-ray, uses it to imprison Tom Hanks in a Captain Kirk-like battle zone and then says to me "Um, listen to me, he's going to be involved in just such a fighting scenario, in some way, and you've got to choose how... or else." What would I do?

B.A. Baracus is of course the “muscle” for the group of outlaw, fugitive, renegade, outlaws known as the A-Team. Baracus is a pro all the way. Ex Special Forces, currently working as a soldier of fortune while surviving in the Los Angeles underground. Mr. Baracus is on the run for a crime he didn’t commit. Well, that’s his story, I’m not a lawyer. Other things I’m not? Doctor, pilot, stunt-man, coherent, sober.

His weaknesses are well documented but will only get you so far. He’s afraid of flying and yet, somehow ridiculously susceptible to being drugged into unconsciousness shortly before planned flights he’s earlier expressed reluctance to taking part in.

He wears dozens of cumbersome gold chains around his neck, but what does that really give you, advantage-wise? Does it suggest vanity? Obsession with material wealth? Greater resistance to beheading attempts? Unknown.

It seems lately like any chaw-spitting rube with the ability to discern the business end of a gator from the pleasure end (ask me later) is capable of quickly incapacitating one. They sneak up on it from behind like a coward, grab the gator's clamped mouth and then tape it shut, bag it, etc. Big deal. I don’t know about you, but that’s not how I’ve dreamt of kicking the shit out of a gator. I mean, if you’re comfortable with forever having an asterisk next to your alligator fight, fine by me. Knowing people are gonna see that mark, then follow it to read something like “Oh by the way, I totally cheated by sneaking up on the alligator, and there was zero honor associated with my victory, just an fyi.”

Hey, maybe you’ll get lucky, lots of people never even read the footnotes. I know I don’t. Who’s got the time? I’ll see that asterisk, drop down the page, then quickly scan the lower right margin before coming to my senses and realizing “This is dumb! Who cares! A second ago I was reading and now I'm on some sort of scavenger hunt? They couldn’t have just parenthetically relayed the information?”

Trust me, you don’t want any part of that shit. I know you might not be able to relate to what I’m saying, yet. But someday, when the time comes for you to walk a mile in my shoes, you’ll be damn glad to look down and see that you're wearing alligator-skin boots.

The always funny Chris Hardwick was kind enough to link this site from The Nerdist, an act that will keep him off this list for the near future. Oh yeah, that’s right, I’ve got the key to taking out Hardwick. Believe me. But for now, that key goes into a box, that I will then lock, using another key.

One of his readers suggested I provide the blueprint for defeating The Batman.

Batman has been called many things… The Dark Knight… The Caped Crusader… The wall-crawler. (To be fair, this last one, mainly by people who know very little about comic books) Batman, as is widely known, has no actual powers; rather, he’s trained his body to reach the peak of human performance. Then combined it with a detective’s analytical brain, and a high-tech black and gray costume used to sneak about nocturnally with ease… as well as a bright, shimmering yellow belt, containing gadgets.

He’s what’s known in comics as a rich millionaire do-gooder (Iron Man, Moon Knight, etc) one of the more implausible creations to ever appear on the printed page. Gamma-irradiated behemoth? Sure. A man with spider-powers? Okay. Rich guy helping poor people? Yeahhhh, I don’t buy it.

Let me ask you something, are you determined? Really truly single-minded in the pursuit of your goals?