I suppose it was inevitable that Eric, being the master tormenter that he is, would return once again to the subject of fencing, specifically the part that doesn't result in his own gruesome death. About a week or so ago he informed the world of his brilliant and unbelievably romantic idea to celebrate his first wedding anniversary by engaging in a duel of swords with his betrothed. Whereas most new grooms would be content on going out to a fine restaurant, writing a beautiful lyrical poem, or simply treating his wife with the grace and devotion that they deserve, Eric instead opted for the less-popular option of putting on claustrophobic fencing gear and slashing at each other for a half-hour or so. I suppose this is the sort of social behavior one picks up from the farmlands of Western Oregon. Is it any wonder that the state allows medically-assisted suicides and once elected a nefarious toe-sucker to the U.S. Senate?
Anyhow, the great First Anniversary Fake Murder Extravaganza apparently went off without a hitch, as Eric dutifully (and long-windedly) reported on the action yesterday. I must admit I found it hard to read, not only because of the prevalence of opaque fencing terms, but also because I knew that at no point in the story, no matter what the result, would Eric die an ignoble death. The whole thing was just a big tease.
Still, there is value to a close examination of Eric's blow-by-blow account; it gives us, the future fighters for human freedom, some insight into Eric's battlefield thought process. Are there weaknesses we can exploit? Are there tendencies we should be aware of? Does the comical size of his nose in any way affect his mobility? Is it a weak spot, like Achilles' heel or King Hippo's bizarrely-taped belly button? Let's see what answers lie within:
The anniversary duel turned out to be as epic as the billing promised. As reigning first session champion, Allison got to select the terms of the fight: 7:00pm, first to 15 (win by 2), on the strip, under the covered basketball court outside Lincoln Elementary School (the premier fencing domain in Corvallis).
Two things: One, Corvallis clearly is lacking in quality fencing domains. What, did they shoot for ball first? Was the match make-it-take-it after two stabs? Second, if the duel was indeed as epic as the billing promised, one of those two (preferably Eric) would be dead. I call bullshit!
Eric then gives us an unsolicited glossary of fencing terms, clearly believing that there are people in this world currently uninvolved with fencing who are chomping at the bit to learn more. Excuse me, Mr. Walkingshaw, but some of us have better things to do than feed our minds with knowledge. For example, feeding our stomachs with shitty junk food.
In his prelude, Eric offers us this observation:
Going into the match I was planning on being much more aggressive than usual. My lunge and reach are longer than Allison's and when we free fenced the week before, I noticed that she was caught off guard a bit by my aggressiveness.
I plan on taking this quote out of context, adding a few strategic ellipses, and then using it as a means to portray Eric as a perpetrator of domestic abuse. To wit: "...I was planning on being much more aggressive than usual. My lunge and reach are longer than Allison's...I noticed that she was caught off guard a bit by my aggressiveness..." Stay tuned; later on I will add words that appear innocently in the rest of his report and my slander shall be complete. The pen, as they say, is mightier than the sword, especially when the sword is a rubber-tipped fencing toy and the pen has been dipped in poison and also shoots lasers.
For now, however, let battle commence:
I could tell that Allison was caught a bit off guard by my aggressiveness so I only pressed harder, extending the lead to 6-3. I think all of Allison's points up to this points were off ripostes, as she wasn't being very aggressive and I wasn't giving her any time to think about attacking. At this point I thought I was going to run away with it, as I had both a pretty good lead and a lot of momentum. I thought about toning it back a bit to avoid any hurt feelings, but Allison quickly forced me to reconsider. Deciding that the best way to combat aggressiveness was with aggressiveness, she started attacking like crazy.
For all of Eric's adoration of robots, and the cold, unblinking rationalism that is inherent in their being, Eric himself is and has always been an unreasonable, unpredictable human being, just like the rest of us canned-cheeseburger-eating, toe-sucking, Battlefield-Baseball-enjoying schlubs. It is with no small amount of pleasure that I discover Eric's lead evaporated at the same time that he considered relenting in his non-stop assault on his wife. It will probably do nothing to raise the esteem of humanity in his eyes, but at the same time Eric was getting beat by a girl, so it's well worth it. Also, the idea of Allison attacking Eric like crazy is the sort of thing he'll have to get used to, as she is the key to saving the world from his menace.
But I'm getting off-track here. Allow me to skip ahead a little bit, and dispense with a few snarky comments:
Our blades got bound up multiple times, I lost a tip (the little plastic thingy on the end of the sword), and things were basically just messy.
Oh, the "tip" is the thing on the end of the sword? The "tip" of the sword, if you will? Thank you for clearing that up for us, Eric, and thank you as well for assuming our IQ to be in the single digits.
...my sword was flat against her side, I went into a sort of sawing motion and managed to catch her with my tip before she got in a riposte. It was ugly.
We are talking about fencing here, right? You know, there is a place on the Internet for this sort of lewd writing. It's called...well, the Internet, actually. Carry on.
I saw an opening and went for the fleche. Bad move. Allison avoided it easily and stabbed me on my way by to even things up. She said after the duel that I've never scored against her on a fleche, and looking back, I think she's right.
Aha! Note to future self: goad Eric into attacking his wife with something called a "fleche." Wife will stab Eric. Eric will perish. Humanity survives. Also, be sure to grab something at the drug store for your flatulence problem. Also also, try to refrain from revealing embarrassing personal details about yourself in notes to yourself.
So it's all tied up and our instructor is desperately trying to get us to tone things down a bit and recapture our form.
Wait...there's an instructor present during all of this? Is this the kind of education we taxpayers are shelling out for? Bloody students! We've got wars to fight and mortgage companies to bail out!
Allison lunges as I coupé, a bold move and a really nice, clean point into my preparation.
I can only assume/hope that "preparation" is a fancy fencing euphemism for "balls."
Finally, there was a lot of frantic action that ended with us both standing there stabbing each other...
What a lovely anniversary! You know, you think you've seen true love in your life, you think you know all there is about what makes a happy couple, and then lo and behold the Walkingshaws show up and take everything you know and throw it all right out the window. For nothing screams romance like the frantic jabbing of one another with fencing swords. I can only hope that one day I, too, will get to experience such deep and meaningful love!
I think we may have an anniversary tradition on our hands.
Oh, great. So that means we get to hear about it all again next year, and for years to come. Whoopee.
So all in all, not too much valuable information to glean here. Allison was nearly a match for Eric and has sworn vengeance, which we know she will achieve when humanity needs it most. Eric is a weak fleche-er, if that is the correct term. Apparently Eric's enhanced nose-size is not necessarily a weakness, although it is funny-looking indeed. Despite all that detail and all those words--those interminable words!--we are left with little to aid us in our fight against this machine-loving villain.
But on the plus side, I have been able to complete my slander. Et voila!
"...I was planning on being much more aggressive than usual. My lunge and reach are longer than Allison's...I noticed that she was caught off guard a bit by my aggressiveness...I bound her up...There was a lot of frantic...stabbing...and Allison vowed vengeance."
What a lout thou art, Monsieur Walkingshaw! Thou deservest the gallows for thine callous treatment of thine lady!
At least, that's how I imagine your fellow fencing dweebs would say it. What a bunch of wusses.
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