Marv.
Life of K:
Nick has been here almost everyday to watch movies and play Nintendo. On Saturday, he brought Marv. Now, Marv is not his real name. His real name is Rob but everyone calls him Marv a la Sin City. If you met him you'd know why.
This gentlemen is about 7 feet tall and a solid wall of humanity. He's in some death metal band I've never heard of but I nod anyway. I have never felt so small when I realized that the fingers of my outstretched hand were barely escaping his palm. This man is a beast. Here is my first encounter with Marv:
Nick: ...this is my morrigan.
Marv: Morrigans ought to fly. (He picks me up as if I'm the weight of a pencil and holds me high above his head. I am too scared to move I just stare.)
Marv: Is she okay? She looks stunned. (puts me down)
Nick: Nah, she's not doing so good as of late.
Marv: Oh? That sucks. Does it hurt?
Me: Umm..yes?
Marv: Hmm...(Then he hits me. He slaps me right in the face. It has been a few years since a boy has hit me like that - but it's just like Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman - always right in the spot where it feels like your eye is going to pop out of your head.)
Marv: Which hurts more?
Me: What?
Marv: (signals to hit me again)
Me: That! That!
Marv: Liar. (Flicks my ear)
Me: Fuck you! (I ram my fist into his chest. It's clearly made out of metal. He just laughs)
Marv: I can hit you again until one stops hurting.
Me: Please don't. (He punches me in the arm)
I'm not sure what this beating was supposed to teach me. I'm sure it was some weird Bride type training that I'm unaware of but it just left me confused with a swollen face.
Diagnosis:
Best. Friends.
Be good.
K.
Today's Discussion Topic:
What do you think this whole process was for?
Nick has been here almost everyday to watch movies and play Nintendo. On Saturday, he brought Marv. Now, Marv is not his real name. His real name is Rob but everyone calls him Marv a la Sin City. If you met him you'd know why.
This gentlemen is about 7 feet tall and a solid wall of humanity. He's in some death metal band I've never heard of but I nod anyway. I have never felt so small when I realized that the fingers of my outstretched hand were barely escaping his palm. This man is a beast. Here is my first encounter with Marv:
Nick: ...this is my morrigan.
Marv: Morrigans ought to fly. (He picks me up as if I'm the weight of a pencil and holds me high above his head. I am too scared to move I just stare.)
Marv: Is she okay? She looks stunned. (puts me down)
Nick: Nah, she's not doing so good as of late.
Marv: Oh? That sucks. Does it hurt?
Me: Umm..yes?
Marv: Hmm...(Then he hits me. He slaps me right in the face. It has been a few years since a boy has hit me like that - but it's just like Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman - always right in the spot where it feels like your eye is going to pop out of your head.)
Marv: Which hurts more?
Me: What?
Marv: (signals to hit me again)
Me: That! That!
Marv: Liar. (Flicks my ear)
Me: Fuck you! (I ram my fist into his chest. It's clearly made out of metal. He just laughs)
Marv: I can hit you again until one stops hurting.
Me: Please don't. (He punches me in the arm)
I'm not sure what this beating was supposed to teach me. I'm sure it was some weird Bride type training that I'm unaware of but it just left me confused with a swollen face.
Diagnosis:
Best. Friends.
Be good.
K.
Today's Discussion Topic:
What do you think this whole process was for?