Sequel: The Federation ›
Legion Of Rockstars
Roundhouse Kick
“Get it higher, Asher!” Moron Instructor Man barked, standing a safe distance away as I slammed roundhouse kick after roundhouse kick into the four-foot long pad Matt Tuck held against his chest. Every kick hit halfway up Matt’s chest, but apparently Moron Instructor Man thought I could kick my leg higher. “I know you can get that leg higher!”
“My joints don’t work that way!” I exclaimed, pausing for a few moments to take a breather. I’d been roundhouse kicking for two minutes straight, the leftover momentum from my last kick helping me slip into the next one. Matt turned out to be a pretty sturdy pad-holder; he didn’t move much when I kicked the pad.
“They can, and they will, if you just try!” Moron Instructor Man snapped. He made an angry face and pointed at the pad. “Keep kicking until you get your leg higher!”
I swallowed back a “Why don’t you do it, then?” remark and stretched my legs a little bit before launching myself into another round of roundhouse kicks. I’d been in training for a week now. Other trainees included Paramore, Bullet For My Valentine (obviously), Disturbed, and Hollywood Undead. As it turned out, Pink was Hayley Williams’ mentor; Hayley stayed in the same room as Amy. I didn’t think it made much sense; I should’ve been with Amy, and Hayley should’ve been with Pink, but I’m sure whoever gave the new trainees their rooms knew what they were doing and had a reason for the switch-up.
“Okay, okay, Asher just stop, just stop,” Moron Instructor Man snapped. I stopped kicking, breathing heavily and glaring icily at him the entire time he walked towards us. “Do you need another demonstration? You good, Matt?”
“Yep.”
“Alright,” Moron Instructor Man said. He motioned for me to back away a little, and I obeyed, resting most of my weight on one leg and crossing my arms as Moron Instructor Man decided to show off. He glanced over his shoulder, nodded at me, and then turned and launched into a roundhouse. The sole of his shoe hit the pad a few inches above where mine did.
“See, Asher?” he continued, motioning me forward again. He ran his fingertip along the top edge of the pad. “I want the edge of your shoe kissing the edge of the pad. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I growled through gritted teeth. Moron Instructor Man backed off a little bit, motioning towards the pad. I turned towards Matt, bouncing on the balls of my feet a few time and focusing all my concentration into kicking my leg as high as I could. Moron Instructor Man insisted height in a roundhouse kick had nothing to do with your body heightt, but I honestly think it did.
I took a deep breath, focusing all my anger and frustration at Moron Instructor Man into my joint so I could get that leg as high as I could and make him shut his trap. I took a step forward and swung my leg upward, releasing all my anger into the kick. The sole of my shoe made contact with something soft and fleshy and definitely not the pad. My foot stepped back on the ground again, and I quickly turned to see Matt stagger back.
Good golly, I’d roundhouse kicked Matt Tuck straight in the face!
“Oh my God, Matt, I am so sorry!” I exclaimed, rushing towards him. I could see the imprint of my shoe sole on his cheek, and already it’d begun to swell. The rest of the trainees stopped, and a few of them laughed, probably the rest of Bullet For My Valentine. “I am so sorry, Matt! I didn’t mean to kick you, I swear! I’m sorry!”
“Here’s an ice pack,” Moron Instructor Man said, handing Matt an ice pack. He pressed it gratefully against his face as I continued to apologize. I felt really bad. The poor guy would probably get a bruise.
But instead of looking mad, Matt smiled at me.
“That’s good kicking, Asher.”
“See? I told you! You can get your leg higher than his chest!” Moron Instructor Man said gleefully. I glared around at him, dismayed that he was more worried about proving me wrong than helping his student. What a jackass. “Alright, everyone, switch places!”
I picked up Matt’s abandoned pad, and he kept the ice pack pressed to his face as he began to practice roundhouse kicks.
“My joints don’t work that way!” I exclaimed, pausing for a few moments to take a breather. I’d been roundhouse kicking for two minutes straight, the leftover momentum from my last kick helping me slip into the next one. Matt turned out to be a pretty sturdy pad-holder; he didn’t move much when I kicked the pad.
“They can, and they will, if you just try!” Moron Instructor Man snapped. He made an angry face and pointed at the pad. “Keep kicking until you get your leg higher!”
I swallowed back a “Why don’t you do it, then?” remark and stretched my legs a little bit before launching myself into another round of roundhouse kicks. I’d been in training for a week now. Other trainees included Paramore, Bullet For My Valentine (obviously), Disturbed, and Hollywood Undead. As it turned out, Pink was Hayley Williams’ mentor; Hayley stayed in the same room as Amy. I didn’t think it made much sense; I should’ve been with Amy, and Hayley should’ve been with Pink, but I’m sure whoever gave the new trainees their rooms knew what they were doing and had a reason for the switch-up.
“Okay, okay, Asher just stop, just stop,” Moron Instructor Man snapped. I stopped kicking, breathing heavily and glaring icily at him the entire time he walked towards us. “Do you need another demonstration? You good, Matt?”
“Yep.”
“Alright,” Moron Instructor Man said. He motioned for me to back away a little, and I obeyed, resting most of my weight on one leg and crossing my arms as Moron Instructor Man decided to show off. He glanced over his shoulder, nodded at me, and then turned and launched into a roundhouse. The sole of his shoe hit the pad a few inches above where mine did.
“See, Asher?” he continued, motioning me forward again. He ran his fingertip along the top edge of the pad. “I want the edge of your shoe kissing the edge of the pad. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I growled through gritted teeth. Moron Instructor Man backed off a little bit, motioning towards the pad. I turned towards Matt, bouncing on the balls of my feet a few time and focusing all my concentration into kicking my leg as high as I could. Moron Instructor Man insisted height in a roundhouse kick had nothing to do with your body heightt, but I honestly think it did.
I took a deep breath, focusing all my anger and frustration at Moron Instructor Man into my joint so I could get that leg as high as I could and make him shut his trap. I took a step forward and swung my leg upward, releasing all my anger into the kick. The sole of my shoe made contact with something soft and fleshy and definitely not the pad. My foot stepped back on the ground again, and I quickly turned to see Matt stagger back.
Good golly, I’d roundhouse kicked Matt Tuck straight in the face!
“Oh my God, Matt, I am so sorry!” I exclaimed, rushing towards him. I could see the imprint of my shoe sole on his cheek, and already it’d begun to swell. The rest of the trainees stopped, and a few of them laughed, probably the rest of Bullet For My Valentine. “I am so sorry, Matt! I didn’t mean to kick you, I swear! I’m sorry!”
“Here’s an ice pack,” Moron Instructor Man said, handing Matt an ice pack. He pressed it gratefully against his face as I continued to apologize. I felt really bad. The poor guy would probably get a bruise.
But instead of looking mad, Matt smiled at me.
“That’s good kicking, Asher.”
“See? I told you! You can get your leg higher than his chest!” Moron Instructor Man said gleefully. I glared around at him, dismayed that he was more worried about proving me wrong than helping his student. What a jackass. “Alright, everyone, switch places!”
I picked up Matt’s abandoned pad, and he kept the ice pack pressed to his face as he began to practice roundhouse kicks.
♠ ♠ ♠
AsherAsher should be honored.
She got to kick Matt Tuck straight in the face! And he didn't kick her back!
Not many people can say that. =}
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