Gary had been in a lot fights, taken a lot of punches to the gut, but nothing had prepared him for the punch this old man had given him. The speed and strength of the blow was something he’d only seen the best have, and then maybe not even the best were this good. They teach you this ‘be prepared for anything, anytime’ mindset in martial arts, but no one can honestly say they don’t loosen up around almost pensioners. As the wind was knocked out of him, he groaned in shock.

Gary felt his fist clench as he recovered. Son of a bitch! You picked the wrong guy to mug old man.

"Kid, I just left a comfortable bed draped with a twenty something blonde who's all aquiver just thinking about me, just to come and talk to you. I know what you're thinking; 'this old bastard thinks he can hit me and talk to me like this? I'll show him!'"

Too fucking right!

"I wouldn't, kid; I wouldn't screw with someone like me... especially if that someone were offering you a chance to have the life you always wanted, ever since the first day they called you The Wuss."

Gary was about half a second from throwing a punch at this stage. Any other sentence this old guy had said and Gary would have floored him. Any other sentence and Gary would be stepping over an old guy with a broken nose and heading home. Any other sentence and Gary would have walked away. But not that one.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

"Don't just stand there gaping and panting."

And now he’s just walking off? Every bone in Gary’s body wanted to lash out at the old bastard, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Who is this guy? How does he know that nickname? What does he mean he’s offering me the chance of a lifetime?

Gary cautiously followed the 6'2 middle aged jackass to a nearby diner. “Alright.” Gary said, sighing. “What’s all this about?” He was alert now, determined not to let this guy get the better of him a second time. Fool me once…

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