Darren's blog

Me.Johnson lay sprawled on the floor. Samuel and Ryan were still wrestling and arguing with each other. Not long after, they stopped fighting. Both stood facing each other, wiping the blood off their faces while glaring at one another. The argument continued!

Ryan: “Hey, you useless piece of trash! You’re the one who should take Mr. Johnson to the hospital!” he said, pointing directly at Samuel.

Samuel: “Why the hell should I? It was your dumbass elbow that hit Mr. Johnson’s face!” he retorted, shoving Ryan’s finger away.

Ryan: “Shut your mouth, you coward! You’re all bark and no bite!”

Samuel: “Where the hell are you going, you spineless loser?! You don’t want to take responsibility for anything!”

Ryan: “Screw you! I’m getting water for Mr. Johnson in case he wakes up. You take him to the front of the classroom, you fucking moron!” Ryan said as he walked away from the field.

Samuel carried Mr. Johnson to the edge of the school terrace.

Meanwhile, Ryan went looking for a nearby stall to buy drinks. When he arrived at the stall:

Ryan: “Ma’am, I’d like the largest bottle of Aqua, please.” He grabbed the drink from the shelf.

Stall Lady: “Sure, dear. That’ll be 5.00 Dollar”

Ryan handed over the money, and the stall lady looked startled as she noticed Ryan was shirtless, sweaty, and had some bruises on his face.

Stall Lady: “What happened, dear? Why is your face bruised, and why are you so sweaty? Where’s your uniform?”

Ryan: “Just the usual, ma’am… defending my pride,” he said with a smile.

Stall Lady: “Do you want some ice for the bruises?”

Ryan: “No, thank you, ma’am. It doesn’t hurt. It’s nothing serious. I’ll be on my way now,” he said, hurrying back to the school field.

When Ryan returned to the school, he approached Samuel and Mr. Johnson on the terrace. Mr. Johnson was still unconscious, and Samuel was trying to massage his legs. Ryan opened the water bottle and quickly drank it all in one go. Samuel noticed and snapped:

Samuel: “Hey, you selfish bastard! Where’s the water for Mr. Johnson? You drank it all, you brainless idiot!”

Ryan: “It’s my damn drink, you moron! Mind your own business! Besides, you’ve been massaging him. He’ll probably wake up soon anyway, you useless waste of space!”

Frustrated, Samuel left Ryan and headed to the nearest stall to buy more water. When he arrived:

Samuel: “Ma’am, two bottles of water, please,” he said, grabbing the drinks.

Stall Lady: “Sure, dear. Oh! I thought you were the same boy from earlier. Where’s your shirt? And your face is bruised too. Were you two fighting? The boy earlier didn’t want ice for his bruises either.”

Samuel: “Yeah, it’s about pride, ma’am.”

Stall Lady: “That’s exactly what he said too. What’s going on?”

Samuel: “Well, in the jungle, there’s only one king, right? Even though there are many animals, only the strongest becomes the king.”

Stall Lady: “Oh, dear. I hope you both succeed in life. It’s good to make peace, you know. You’re young, and emotions run high, but it’s better than fighting.”

Samuel: “I can’t make peace with someone like him,” he said, handing over the money for the water.

Stall Lady: “Alright. Are you sure you don’t want ice?”

Samuel: “No, thanks. It doesn’t hurt. I’ll be going now,” he said, rushing off.

The stall lady watched him leave and muttered to herself, “Kids these days… both so handsome and muscular. If I were younger, I’d probably have a crush on them,” she said with a small smile.

Samuel walked back while drinking the water, finishing it quickly because the fight had drained his energy and left him parched. When he returned to Ryan and Mr. Johnson, Mr. Johnson was starting to regain consciousness. Samuel handed him the water.

Samuel: “Sir, you’re awake now. Here, have some water,” he said gently, helping Mr. Johnson drink.

Mr. Johnson: “Ugh… my head is pounding. Ryan… Samuel… why were you two fighting?”

Ryan: “We weren’t fighting, sir. We were just warming up. Practicing.”

Samuel: “Yeah, sir. Ryan said his body was stiff, so we were just loosening up.”

Ryan: “Exactly, sir. Good thing Samuel was there to spar with me. I needed to warm up these muscles—it’s been a while since I last punched anything.”

Mr. Johnson: “Alright, as long as no one gets seriously hurt. Your faces are all bruised.”

Ryan: “It doesn’t hurt, sir.”

Samuel: “Yeah, it feels like an ant bite.”

Ryan suddenly punched Samuel’s upper arm hard, making a loud *thud*.

Ryan: “Doesn’t hurt, right, you weakling?”

Samuel smirked and punched Ryan’s upper arm in return, creating another loud *thud*.

Samuel: “You don’t feel anything, right, you pathetic loser?”

Ryan grinned, and the two began exchanging punches, each hitting the other’s arm about ten times. Mr. Johnson intervened.

Mr. Johnson: “Enough! Stop it, or I’ll faint again from watching you two!”

Ryan and Samuel stopped, breathing heavily and glaring at each other, their chests heaving from the exertion.

Mr. Johnson: “Alright, I’m going home now. I’m feeling better. You two should head home too. It’s getting late.”

Mr. Johnson left, thanking them as he walked away. Ryan and Samuel stayed behind, still eager to continue their fight.

Ryan: “You want to keep going, you coward?” he challenged Samuel.

Samuel: “Let’s finish this once and for all, you worthless piece of trash!”

Ryan: “Bring it on, you spineless idiot!”

The two walked to the center of the field. It was already 4 PM. Without hesitation, they began pushing and hitting each other, eventually falling to the ground and wrestling on the asphalt. The fight was more about grappling than punching. They rolled around for an hour, drenched in sweat and covered in dirt. As they wrestled, they exchanged insults.

Ryan: “You fucking pig!”

Samuel: “ Shut up you filthy animal!”

Ryan rubbed his hand under his armpit and then shoved it into Samuel’s face.

Ryan: “Smell that, you pathetic worm!” he laughed.

Samuel, furious, did the same to Ryan, rubbing his armpit and then smearing it on Ryan’s face. Samuel laughed triumphantly. Ryan, equally furious, retaliated. The two ended up in a tight embrace, punching each other’s stomachs repeatedly until they were both exhausted and collapsed on the asphalt.

Ryan and Samuel lay on their backs, staring at the sky, breathing heavily. Their faces were bruised, and their arms and abs were covered in purple marks. Their uniform pants were torn in several places. They shouted at each other.

Samuel: “Ryan, you’re a worthless piece of garbage! You’re a waste of oxygen!”

Ryan: “Samuel, you’re a brainless ape! You’re a walking embarrassment!”

Both yelled in frustration, still angry at each other. They rolled onto their stomachs, facing each other.

Samuel: “Why won’t you give up, you pathetic loser?” he said, punching Ryan.

Ryan: “You should be the one on the ground crying, you weakling!” he retorted, punching back.

Samuel: “I’m enjoying this fight. I want to keep going until someone loses, but I’m hungry!”

Ryan: “Me too, you gluttonous pig!”

Samuel: “It’s getting dark, and tomorrow’s Sunday. Let’s continue tonight at 10. I can’t handle the hunger.”

Ryan: “I’m up for it, but my stomach can’t take it either.

Samuel: “Alright! Let’s meet here at 10 PM.

Ryan: “Deal! You piece of shit

Samuel: “You’re such a repulsive jerk!”

The two got up, grabbed their bags, and stuffed their torn uniforms inside. They walked to the parking lot, wiping their sweaty bodies with their jackets. Their muscles were visibly pumped. Each headed to their Ninja motorcycles.

Ryan: “10 PM, right here, you coward!” he shouted at Samuel.

Samuel: “Got it! I’ll be here at 10.

They started their motorcycles and rode off shirtless, heading home.