Revenge of the Mistaken Dragon

We had a sweet life when we first moved to Virginia; but, one day my parents didn’t come home. Vowing revenge on whoever did it, I left for Japan that very evening and, when I got there, I found the greatest martial arts teacher there. It took six months to persuade him to take me in as a student; once in, I studied for fifteen years until I was unbeatable. Then, I came back for revenge. Oddly enough, my parents had arrived home just a few minutes after I’d left for Japan, so, when I got back to sadly survey my parents’ abandoned home to further stoke my rage, I found them home and watching television. “Why did you leave?”, my father demanded, “Where have you been?”

“It’s not important”, I replied.

“Um… Okay”, he said, then he paused trying to think of something to say. Finally, he said, “So, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much”, I answered, “Oh! But, I know karate, now”

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Dear Sir or Madam,

I saw your ad looking for an experienced Perl programmer with extensive training in Linux. I have neither; but, what I DO have is an set of skills that makes me a nightmare for people like you… especially if your nightmares involve thirty-somethings with no computer skills. Most of my training is in martial arts based revenge. All I require is a target and someone I can get emotionally close to for six months before that target kills the person. My training is pretty classical so when I get revenge, I tend to do it in a multi-story building with a martial arts expert on each floor who specializes in some seldom-used weaponry. For no extra charge, I’ll take out the henchmen and flunkies who will try, in vain, to stop me. Please give me the target’s name in advance so I can come up with sufficient word play when he gets sucked into a conveniently placed jet engine.

I can also work as a contractor for smaller jobs. Someone steal your yogurt from the fridge? I can break his arm for a price that you’ll find very reasonable. Did an old woman take your parking spot at the mall? For twenty-five dollars, I’ll punch her in the stomach. I’m thinking of having gift cards made up…

If you decide to hire me, just let me know in the usual way: A dying messenger who barely makes it to my door and only manages to get a single word out before he expires. I’ll try to answer my door promptly.

Sincerely,

Masercot, Master of Shito-ryu