[ WP ] You are a brilliant Med School student who uses extensive knowledge on the human body to win street fights for money to pay for tuition . One night you face your most difficult opponent : a Physics major

`` Damn, I could really use an ice pack right about now,'' I barked at my trainer Kobayashi as he tended to the gash on my forehead with the careful precision you would expect from a Japanese med student who spends most of his free time editing Wikipedia. 
 
 `` Can I wipe your ass for you while I'm at it?'' He endearingly replied. `` Get back in there and quit being such a pussy.'' 
 
 I would n't have joined the underground wrestling league of Rancho Cucamonga with anyone else as my sidekick. Kobayashi and I had hit it off ever since freshman year at Caltech, and we've been best friends ever since. You'd be surprised at how many chicks approach you when you hang out all the time with a Jap. Anyways, back to the ring. 
 
 `` I ca n't say I've ever seen this much blood in the first round before Bob; Looks like Carlos Garbanzo has finally met his match!'' 
 
 Fuckin' announcers. Always trying to rile up the crowd with their bullshit. Despite that dickbag's opinion of the fight, I was actually holding my own pretty well that night. I was facing the notorious Dmitri Petrovich who had accidentally killed four people in the ring in previous fights. His last opponent, Dillon Trailmix, lucked out and came away with only a lacerated spleen. 
 
 Kobayashi splooged out the last of the face lube onto my wound and rubbed it in to stem the bleeding whilst keeping the surface of my forehead greasy to assist in the glancing of any more blows I might take. I always thought he looked like Michael Jackson when he wore those white gloves. The funny thing is he really does n't look anything like Michael Jackson. 
 
 `` Get back in there and go fuck that guy up, Carlos. He's making you look like a fool out here tonight!'' 
 
 The second part of his pep talk was completely irrelevant to me as there were only about 17 people in attendance, most of them fat. But I was definitely intent on taking down Petrovich that night. 
 
 Dmitri Petrovich was one of the biggest scumbags I had ever met. The first time I laid eyes on him he was playing a game of Cliff Hangers. I'm not sure if he invented this game or if it's a game he picked up while he was living in Communist Russia but it's a very simple game. You need a disabled kid, a rope, a stake, and a cliff. What he would do is he would find a kid in a wheelchair or one with down's syndrome, cerebral palsy or any other life-threatening disease, and throw them off a cliff with the rope around their neck attached to the stake in the ground at the edge of the cliff. He always said he was doing the kids a favor by putting them out of their misery, but I found his reasoning to be flawed. I always thought it was a horrible game and one I'd have to be pretty wasted to try. Anyways, this Petrovich character was a real piece of work. I'd have loved to have been the one to give him a good hide-tanning. 
 
 The other reason I was desperate to win the fight was the prize money; $ 3000 in cold hard American cash. The fight that night was the pinnacle of the underground wrestling league tournament, and I had n't just clawed my way to the top to be embarrassed by some homicidal Russian bafoon. No, I needed the money too badly to lose. The power in my condo had been shut off because I forgot to pay the electric company. My casserole was going bad. This was my night. 
 
 As I sauntered back towards my menacing opponent, he lunged at me with all his might. Naturally, I coolly sidestepped his effort as I had the last 13 times he tried that move. Though he was a man of impeccable might, the same could n't be said about his intelligence. Not too much was required of physics students at Caltech. 
 
 While Petrovich was an excellent fighter and a man of great stature, I instantly noticed a serious flaw to his physicality when he stepped into the ring. I knew I could exploit it, but I had to bide my time until an opportunity arose. That explains all the deep lacerations and bruises poor Kobayashi had to deal with after our little match had ended. 
 
 `` What's wrong with Petrovich?'' Someone in the crowd shouted. `` He's completely immobilized!'' Yelled another. `` His face has gone white as a ghost!'' `` Oh my God! Somebody quick, help him!'' 
 
 Funny nobody seemed to care as much when the four guys Petrovich mutilated were lying on the ground gasping for air. I guess this Russian guy has a pretty extensive fan base. It always strikes me as odd when the bad guy is more popular than the good one. 
 
 Being a 4.0 GPA student at Caltech studying biomedical sciences, I know a thing or two about how the human body operates. You see,'Ol Dmitri had a lung condition known as Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. That's COPD for the layman. He had a hankering for cigarettes early on in life, and was diagnosed with COPD at the tender age of 27. The poor guy would n't ever be able to breathe again without a ventilator attached to him. They say Karma's a bitch do n't they? Well I'm starting to think they might be right. 
 
 I finally found my time to strike. As Petrovich was lumbering by me with another one of his uncoordinated efforts, I managed to reach around him and inconspicuously unplug his ventilation tube from the machine. It was so easy I found myself wondering how he got past the last fighters in the tournament. As you heard from our faithful wrestling fans, Petrovich did n't take it too kindly. `` Go back to Russia you fascist bastard!'' I proclaimed as he crumpled to the ground coughing and gasping for air. I hoped my catch phrase did n't sound too racist as the official raised my fist in the air declaring me the victor. 
 
 As I headed back to my corner and slumped down into my chair next to Kobayashi, the world seemed just right to me for a few moments. All the worries and troubles in life were slowly wisping away with the promise of $ 3000 dollars in my pocket and the broadening horizons in my amateur wrestling career. I breathed in a deep breath of fresh air as the ambulance carried away my opponent and a smile crept into my face as the sweet smell of conquest wafted up into my nostrils. Or was that just the nearby vendor selling churros out of his wagon? Either way, it was time for dinner. 
 
 `` Chinese again?'' Kobayashi asked. `` I'll have to take a rain check tonight, my friend.'' I replied. `` I've got a casserole waiting back home and it ai n't gon na last forever.'' 
 
 THE END 
 
 
 
 
 
 

