When Mormons Attacked My Swords Class
Last night, I had a discussion with some Mormon proselytizers over lunch. Normally, when I meet with proselytizers, they are very polite and respectful, and we have a fun theological discussion. I don't remember what happened during this discussion specifically, but I asked them to leave and they didn't. I forced them out, through the front door of my apartment I used to live in before I bought a house, and had to lock the door.
Now, keep in mind, this is not a typical experience. Normally, when I ask them to leave, they leave. That is not what happened this time, and that is weird. What happened next was even weirder.
As I looked out the windows of my apartment, which had grown to take up most of the wall, by the way, I saw the Mormons again, waving with big friendly smiles, coming towards my door. I checked that the door was locked, which is a good thing, because they started trying to beat the door down. I held the door in place, and was able to block it closed with a four-by-four, but through the window in the door, I could see that their veins and muscles were beginning to glow through their skin. I was afraid.
Then I was at swords class. It was the last ten minutes of class, when parents start to filter in through the back door that I leave unlocked, so I was unsurprised when I heard the back door open, but I was surprised when I looked up and saw the proselytizers walk in, with their big friendly smiles. I asked a student who has recently moved out of state and left the class to get me a sword, and the proselytizers made noises like they didn't understand why I needed it.
I was handed a foam dagger, and I silently cursed myself for not being more specific, but I fought off the two Mormons who were again glowing, this time so strongly that their clothing was starting to fade out of existence. They were surprised to be attacked with a foam dagger, so I stabbed one of them in the face, the thigh, and finally in the junk. He was about to fall back, but the other one ripped off his loins (and a decent chunk of the skin and chest above it), and he became even stronger. I recognized that he was now a woman, with all the increased super-powers that this entailed.
"A Coldsteel!" I shouted, "Get me a Coldsteel!" The practice swords that I tell my students never to use in range of another person, the ones which are more durable than bones. I was handed one, and the real fight began. With my sword in hand, I was able to fight them almost evenly, but it quickly became clear that I was a level 7 fighter against level 14 monks.
Then the baby started crying and I woke up.
Now, keep in mind, this is not a typical experience. Normally, when I ask them to leave, they leave. That is not what happened this time, and that is weird. What happened next was even weirder.
As I looked out the windows of my apartment, which had grown to take up most of the wall, by the way, I saw the Mormons again, waving with big friendly smiles, coming towards my door. I checked that the door was locked, which is a good thing, because they started trying to beat the door down. I held the door in place, and was able to block it closed with a four-by-four, but through the window in the door, I could see that their veins and muscles were beginning to glow through their skin. I was afraid.
Then I was at swords class. It was the last ten minutes of class, when parents start to filter in through the back door that I leave unlocked, so I was unsurprised when I heard the back door open, but I was surprised when I looked up and saw the proselytizers walk in, with their big friendly smiles. I asked a student who has recently moved out of state and left the class to get me a sword, and the proselytizers made noises like they didn't understand why I needed it.
I was handed a foam dagger, and I silently cursed myself for not being more specific, but I fought off the two Mormons who were again glowing, this time so strongly that their clothing was starting to fade out of existence. They were surprised to be attacked with a foam dagger, so I stabbed one of them in the face, the thigh, and finally in the junk. He was about to fall back, but the other one ripped off his loins (and a decent chunk of the skin and chest above it), and he became even stronger. I recognized that he was now a woman, with all the increased super-powers that this entailed.
"A Coldsteel!" I shouted, "Get me a Coldsteel!" The practice swords that I tell my students never to use in range of another person, the ones which are more durable than bones. I was handed one, and the real fight began. With my sword in hand, I was able to fight them almost evenly, but it quickly became clear that I was a level 7 fighter against level 14 monks.
Then the baby started crying and I woke up.