Simpleton.
04-23-2008, 07:19 PM
Gradually, Jake’s eyes creaked open. His vision was blurred. He rubbed the grit away from the corners of his eyes, adjusting his vision. It didn’t take him long to realize where he was. He was inside Daniel Vilaseca’s room, but he was the only one there. Daniel was probably eating breakfast or taking a shower. He sat up in his sleeping bag, rustling pretty loudly. He admired Daniel for how well-kept his bedroom was. He himself could never keep his room this immaculate. The walls were spotless, though posters of Pamela Anderson did cover one face. The room had a cheerful air about it, the walls painted a bright green that would always keep you bright and happy. The curtains were green to. Jake always wished he had a bedroom like this, he just never got round to decorating it. The desk wasn’t cluttered like Jake’s. Books were piled neatly, bottom-heavy, and it was clean. It was a complete mystery how it was kept so adequate. Jake stretched out his arms and tried to stifle a yawn. It proved too much though, and he just let rip. He pulled a white vest from his backpack and slipped it on before taking a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, slipping them on too. Leaving his sleeping bag unattended to, he opened the door silently. He never expected it. At home, his bedroom door was as squeaky as a mouse on helium. This door must have been regularly oiled though. He stood on the landing, scratching his leg, planning on making his way to the bathroom to wash his face. He was interrupted by his incurable nosiness though. He could hear raised voices downstairs, one of them unmistakably belonging to Daniel, the other to his mother. Intrigued by the raised voices, Jake stood by the banister, leaning over to hear exactly what was going on.
Daniel Vilaseca - Why won’t you listen to me, Mom?
Mrs. Vilaseca - Daniel, you do not get these injuries from ice skating. Tell me what you really did last night or you’re grounded for a week.
Daniel Vilaseca - I swear Mom, it was ice skating. Why would I lie to you? I took a tumble, and you know how easily I bruise. Just please, it’s nothing to worry about.
Mrs. Vilaseca - You have a black eye Daniel, that doesn’t come from ice skating! You’re keeping a secret from me and if you refuse to tell me then I will have no choice but to ground you, it’s as simple as that.
Daniel Vilaseca - Mom please, you have to trust me on this one. I swear to God I went ice skating. I fell over a bunch of times, and it was busy. There were plenty of people to knock into.
There was a silence, during which Jake thought he had been spotted and darted back over the banister. Keeping his ear at the ready, the conversation continued.
Mrs. Vilaseca - I am too tried to argue Daniel. You’re grounded until next Saturday.
Daniel Vilaseca - What the fuck? I got these from ice skating, my own mother won’t fucking believe me?
Mrs. Vilaseca - That’s another week for swearing, young man!
Jake heard footsteps, followed by the sound of someone walking up stairs. It was Daniel. Quickly, Jake darted into the bathroom and twisted the tap so that a constant stream of water began to gush out of it. He let the water hit his hands and threw it up to his face, wetting it immensely. He grabbed a towel and started to dab his face as he walked out of the bathroom, and Daniel had just reached the landing. Jake nodded his greeting at him and Daniel returned it, albeit with a pissed off sigh. Jake threw in the towel (physically, not metaphorically) and followed Daniel back into his room. Daniel sat on his bed (with green sheets to match his curtains and walls) and held his head in his hands. Jake sat down on his comfy - and still warm - blue sleeping bag. It was completely silent in that room. Jake put a clenched fist to his mouth and cleared his throat to try and grab Daniel’s attention. With another sigh, Daniel sat up and looked over at Jake, scowling slightly.
Daniel Vilaseca - What?
Jake Tyler - I just wanted your attention, that’s all. What are we doing today?
Daniel growled slightly and lay on his bed, not caring that his head hit the pillow with quite some exerted force.
Daniel Vilaseca - Not a lot. I’ve been grounded ‘cause of my injuries. What you said was right. It’s not worth it.
Leaning over, Daniel twisted a dial that was on a radio sitting on his bedside table. Music began to play around the room, a song that Jake had never heard before and therefore couldn’t put a name to it. It sounded good though. He stood up, adjusting his vest, and walked up to the bed where Daniel laid, a deep scowl on his face.
Jake Tyler - You’re going to let your Mom push you around? You wanted me to teach you. You’re my best friend. I’m going to fucking teach you, regardless of anything your Mom said. Besides, you could do with the lessons.
He thought it would make Daniel feel a bit better, a bit more rebellious. He thought that Daniel would sit up, take a stand, and go against his mother’s dictatorship. Daniel just sighed again, closing his eyes and losing himself in the music.
Daniel Vilaseca - I would. Honestly Jake, I really would. But being grounded, there’s nowhere for me to learn. We can’t do it in here, because there’s not enough room. We can’t do it in the living room because I’ll get shot by my Mom for breaking something. There’s nowhere to fight. So I guess I’ll have to catch you up on these lessons after my prison sentence. Sorry.
Jake shook his head slowly. The scowl was now on his face. Maybe it was because his mother was way more lenient on him, or maybe it was because he felt like a badass. He took the radio and twisted the dial until it clicked, the music quieting to silence.
Jake Tyler - Wait. You can’t give up this easily. You came up with the idea of this whole weekend. You came up with the idea of me teaching you. I have an idea of my own. You’re Dad works until late, right?
Daniel Vilaseca - Right.
Jake Tyler - And he takes the family car to work with him, right?
Daniel Vilaseca - Yup.
Jake Tyler - So your garage is empty?
Daniel Vilaseca - It’s got likes, tools in it and stuff. My bike. Nothing much else though.
Jake sighed. He was being forced to spell it all out for Daniel. If it wasn’t for the answer he had just given, Jake would have thought he wasn’t paying attention. Jake grabbed Daniel’s Hawaiian shirt and pulled him up to a seated position. Now, Daniel looked at Jake, an amount of fear trickling into his eyes.
Jake Tyler - I’ll teach you in the garage.
A smirk crept onto his face as he remembered something Daniel had said before.
Jake Tyler - ¿Comprende?
Daniel didn’t share Jake’s enthusiasm unfortunately. His stern face more than reflected that. He shrugged himself out of Jake’s grip, staying in his seated position.
Daniel Vilaseca - That would kill my back. I’d just get grounded more. I’m sorry Jake, but it’s just not worth it. I want my life too, and two weeks of this vacation have been taken from me because of all this stupid fighting. Besides, the Iron Fist Tournament is around the corner. That’d batter me up like a fucking haddock.
Jake Tyler - Iron Fist Tournament? Isn’t that from Tekken?
Daniel Vilaseca - King of Iron First Tournament is from Tekken. I guess it’s taken from that. But whatever. I don’t want to enter it. Loads of guys from school know about it, I don’t want to face the embarrassment of losing in the first round.
Jake realized that he was really sheltered from the social life of many of his fellow classmates. He had never heard of this “Carpe Certo” or it’s Iron Fist Tournament. All he knew is that if loads of people knew about it, they did a great job of keeping it secret, even if it was “legal”.
Jake Tyler - So I can teach you in your garage and you won’t suffer that defeat. Come on, your Mom doesn’t have to know about it. We can pad the garage up, make it safe, and you won’t get injured as much as you did last night. Trust me Daniel. When it comes to this, I know what I’m doing.
There was a silence. Jake stood above Daniel, waiting for a response. He was psyched. He wanted to do it. He was ready. A rush of adrenalin was surging through his body, and all the while that Daniel refused the offer, he was a dog restrained by a chain leash. A door slamming could be heard. Like the aforementioned dog that Jake was, his ears perked up at it. Daniel’s had too. His eyebrows were contorted in confusion along with it.
Daniel Vilaseca - That sounded like…
He rushed out of his bedroom, almost slipping on Jake’s silky sleeping bag, yanking on the door handle ruggedly in the process, skidding down the laminated landing towards his parents’ bedroom. He peered out of the window and saw his mother walking down the road, handbag draped over her shoulder. Daniel remembered that on Sunday, his mother would go out for a vast majority of the day. Jake followed Daniel, standing behind him.
Jake Tyler - What is it Dan?
Daniel continued to gaze out of the window as if waiting for his mother to turn the corner, out of sight and out of mind.
Daniel Vilaseca - The house is mine until midnight. My Mom’s gone out. She won’t be back until later. Like, way later. Early hours in the morning, drunk out of her mind.
Jake Tyler - On a Sunday?
Daniel Vilaseca - She doesn’t work.
That smirk that was starting to become synonymous with Jake came back. He grabbed Daniel by the shoulder and whipped him around, forcing him to make eye contact.
Jake Tyler - This is perfect. This is too perfect beyond words. I have had a brainwave. Your Dad used to teach gym right?
Daniel Vilaseca - Yes…
Jake Tyler - Does he have any protective gym mats lying around?
Daniel Vilaseca - There are like ten spares in the basement, why?
Jake Tyler - You’re a fucking idiot sometimes. Get the mats, I’ll meet you in the garage.
Jake walked out of the bedroom and walked down the stairs, the smirk still planted haphazardly on his face. He heard Daniel following suit as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Here, the two of them parted ways. Jake opened the front door and made his way outside whilst Daniel opened the kitchen door and made his way inside, on route to the basement which was only accessible through a trap door in the kitchen. Jake shut the door behind him and walked over a portion of grass that lay neatly outside the house. He grabbed a plant pot from the kitchen’s outer window sill and took a key from underneath it, making his way over to the garage and unlocking it. He was very familiar with the garage, he had been in it many times to play soccer and just piss around as a younger child. He knew where the key was, and it was always underneath the same plant pot. No-one before had even attempted to find it. Whilst it seemed careless, it hadn’t caused the Vilaseca family any problems yet. Jake heaved the garage door upwards and walked in. The family car was definitely gone unless it had shrunk and was lurking behind a lonely trashcan. There was plenty of room for a mat area on which Jake could teach Daniel the ins and outs of fighting. He hopped from one foot to the other, stretching his neck. He had seen it happen all too often, and a lot of people thought it was just false hype, but Jake found it relaxed him and helped him to accomplish a fight. He had never fought professionally. That was the only downfall. But all he needed to know came from the referee’s mouth the previous night and from the actual fight itself. Jake heard a door open and his neck snapped in the direction of the door opening. He turned his full body to see that there was a door he had never noticed before in the left hand corner of the garage. Daniel walked through with a trolley containing at least seven black protective mats. Jake smirked as Daniel wiped his sweaty forehead, shutting the door behind him.
Daniel Vilaseca - I’m not too sure about this Damia-
Jake Tyler - Shut up and put the mats down Daniel.
Daniel shrugged and took a mat from the trolley, letting it fall to the ground. It made a loud slapping noise as it hit, echoing throughout the garage. It was a badass noise, like a gun being fired. Jake assisted Daniel in taking the mats from the trolley. He couldn’t let him do it by himself and waste valuable teaching time. There were nine mats in total that had been aligned in a three by three square. Jake spotted some gaffer tape from the shelf and went to work taping down the mats for more protection. Ten minutes taken to do that, even less time would be taken to rip it back up again; a good few hours of solid teaching to bulk Daniel up. Standing on the centerpiece of the mat-constructed square, Jake beckoned Daniel over to him.
Jake Tyler - Right then, let’s get this baby on the road. Dan, what do you feel is your weakest point? We’ll advance from there.
There was another unsure shrug from Daniel, looking to his left as if there were two cartoon figures on his shoulders; a devil and an angel; though they wouldn’t help in this situation. They couldn’t tell him his weakest point when it came to combat. Only he knew.
Daniel Vilaseca - My weakest point is probably just defending myself. I leave my opponent too many open areas for them to gain and offence.
Jake Tyler - Okay, that’s a pretty good place to start, and I guess we can start off with… okay, I’m going to ask you to throw punches at me, anywhere you want but regarding the disqualification rules, and I will defend them. Then I’ll show you how it’s done.
Daniel Vilaseca - Okay…
Daniel disguised a shrug as a shiver of adrenalin rush, but Jake could see through it. He held his arms up ready to defend himself. He had to get it right or these lessons were down the proverbial shitter. Daniel thrust his left fist towards Jake, his right fist following with a fraction of a second’s delay. Jake blocked the first fist and grabbed Daniel’s right fist. He then began to fall to the mats, using his free arm to push Daniel in his breastplate, flipping him over. With Daniel now on the mat and Jake still holding his arm, Jake had successfully blocked the offensive and turned it into a submission move. He didn’t lock in the arm bar though, and stood. Daniel rose to his feet and turned, zebra-sighing. He didn’t know how good Jake was, but it looked like he was going to find out today. Jake smirked and clenched his fists, clasping them together.
Jake Tyler - Did you see how I did that?
Daniel Vilaseca - Yeah, I did.
Jake Tyler - Now I’m going to throw punches at you, and you have to do the same. Push into my breastbone and flip me over, keep a hold of my arm and lock in the submission hold. I’ll then show you how to combat the submission hold. Ready?
Daniel nodded with a fierce intensity. He stood, poised, his arms up by his face. Jake threw out his left fist, slower than Daniel had done it, and blocked it with his forearm. Jake then thrust out his right fist. Daniel grabbed him by the wrist, began to drop, pushed into his breastplate and flipped him over, just as Jake had done it, but with a slight groan as he mustered up his strength in order to perform the move. Breathing quite heavily, Daniel began to pull on the downed Jake’s arm, but not looking to incapacitate Jake at all. Suddenly, Jake’s legs were wrapped around Daniel’s neck. Jake, using his strong leg muscles from years of being an amateur runner, flipped Daniel over onto the mats. Daniel had to release his hold of Jake’s arm, and now found himself on the receiving end of a stronger arm bar from Jake. Jake had his legs still wrapped around Daniel’s neck, obstructing the movement on his other arm and thus preventing him from using his legs as a means of escape. Jake began yanking on Daniel’s arm.
TBC
Daniel Vilaseca - Why won’t you listen to me, Mom?
Mrs. Vilaseca - Daniel, you do not get these injuries from ice skating. Tell me what you really did last night or you’re grounded for a week.
Daniel Vilaseca - I swear Mom, it was ice skating. Why would I lie to you? I took a tumble, and you know how easily I bruise. Just please, it’s nothing to worry about.
Mrs. Vilaseca - You have a black eye Daniel, that doesn’t come from ice skating! You’re keeping a secret from me and if you refuse to tell me then I will have no choice but to ground you, it’s as simple as that.
Daniel Vilaseca - Mom please, you have to trust me on this one. I swear to God I went ice skating. I fell over a bunch of times, and it was busy. There were plenty of people to knock into.
There was a silence, during which Jake thought he had been spotted and darted back over the banister. Keeping his ear at the ready, the conversation continued.
Mrs. Vilaseca - I am too tried to argue Daniel. You’re grounded until next Saturday.
Daniel Vilaseca - What the fuck? I got these from ice skating, my own mother won’t fucking believe me?
Mrs. Vilaseca - That’s another week for swearing, young man!
Jake heard footsteps, followed by the sound of someone walking up stairs. It was Daniel. Quickly, Jake darted into the bathroom and twisted the tap so that a constant stream of water began to gush out of it. He let the water hit his hands and threw it up to his face, wetting it immensely. He grabbed a towel and started to dab his face as he walked out of the bathroom, and Daniel had just reached the landing. Jake nodded his greeting at him and Daniel returned it, albeit with a pissed off sigh. Jake threw in the towel (physically, not metaphorically) and followed Daniel back into his room. Daniel sat on his bed (with green sheets to match his curtains and walls) and held his head in his hands. Jake sat down on his comfy - and still warm - blue sleeping bag. It was completely silent in that room. Jake put a clenched fist to his mouth and cleared his throat to try and grab Daniel’s attention. With another sigh, Daniel sat up and looked over at Jake, scowling slightly.
Daniel Vilaseca - What?
Jake Tyler - I just wanted your attention, that’s all. What are we doing today?
Daniel growled slightly and lay on his bed, not caring that his head hit the pillow with quite some exerted force.
Daniel Vilaseca - Not a lot. I’ve been grounded ‘cause of my injuries. What you said was right. It’s not worth it.
Leaning over, Daniel twisted a dial that was on a radio sitting on his bedside table. Music began to play around the room, a song that Jake had never heard before and therefore couldn’t put a name to it. It sounded good though. He stood up, adjusting his vest, and walked up to the bed where Daniel laid, a deep scowl on his face.
Jake Tyler - You’re going to let your Mom push you around? You wanted me to teach you. You’re my best friend. I’m going to fucking teach you, regardless of anything your Mom said. Besides, you could do with the lessons.
He thought it would make Daniel feel a bit better, a bit more rebellious. He thought that Daniel would sit up, take a stand, and go against his mother’s dictatorship. Daniel just sighed again, closing his eyes and losing himself in the music.
Daniel Vilaseca - I would. Honestly Jake, I really would. But being grounded, there’s nowhere for me to learn. We can’t do it in here, because there’s not enough room. We can’t do it in the living room because I’ll get shot by my Mom for breaking something. There’s nowhere to fight. So I guess I’ll have to catch you up on these lessons after my prison sentence. Sorry.
Jake shook his head slowly. The scowl was now on his face. Maybe it was because his mother was way more lenient on him, or maybe it was because he felt like a badass. He took the radio and twisted the dial until it clicked, the music quieting to silence.
Jake Tyler - Wait. You can’t give up this easily. You came up with the idea of this whole weekend. You came up with the idea of me teaching you. I have an idea of my own. You’re Dad works until late, right?
Daniel Vilaseca - Right.
Jake Tyler - And he takes the family car to work with him, right?
Daniel Vilaseca - Yup.
Jake Tyler - So your garage is empty?
Daniel Vilaseca - It’s got likes, tools in it and stuff. My bike. Nothing much else though.
Jake sighed. He was being forced to spell it all out for Daniel. If it wasn’t for the answer he had just given, Jake would have thought he wasn’t paying attention. Jake grabbed Daniel’s Hawaiian shirt and pulled him up to a seated position. Now, Daniel looked at Jake, an amount of fear trickling into his eyes.
Jake Tyler - I’ll teach you in the garage.
A smirk crept onto his face as he remembered something Daniel had said before.
Jake Tyler - ¿Comprende?
Daniel didn’t share Jake’s enthusiasm unfortunately. His stern face more than reflected that. He shrugged himself out of Jake’s grip, staying in his seated position.
Daniel Vilaseca - That would kill my back. I’d just get grounded more. I’m sorry Jake, but it’s just not worth it. I want my life too, and two weeks of this vacation have been taken from me because of all this stupid fighting. Besides, the Iron Fist Tournament is around the corner. That’d batter me up like a fucking haddock.
Jake Tyler - Iron Fist Tournament? Isn’t that from Tekken?
Daniel Vilaseca - King of Iron First Tournament is from Tekken. I guess it’s taken from that. But whatever. I don’t want to enter it. Loads of guys from school know about it, I don’t want to face the embarrassment of losing in the first round.
Jake realized that he was really sheltered from the social life of many of his fellow classmates. He had never heard of this “Carpe Certo” or it’s Iron Fist Tournament. All he knew is that if loads of people knew about it, they did a great job of keeping it secret, even if it was “legal”.
Jake Tyler - So I can teach you in your garage and you won’t suffer that defeat. Come on, your Mom doesn’t have to know about it. We can pad the garage up, make it safe, and you won’t get injured as much as you did last night. Trust me Daniel. When it comes to this, I know what I’m doing.
There was a silence. Jake stood above Daniel, waiting for a response. He was psyched. He wanted to do it. He was ready. A rush of adrenalin was surging through his body, and all the while that Daniel refused the offer, he was a dog restrained by a chain leash. A door slamming could be heard. Like the aforementioned dog that Jake was, his ears perked up at it. Daniel’s had too. His eyebrows were contorted in confusion along with it.
Daniel Vilaseca - That sounded like…
He rushed out of his bedroom, almost slipping on Jake’s silky sleeping bag, yanking on the door handle ruggedly in the process, skidding down the laminated landing towards his parents’ bedroom. He peered out of the window and saw his mother walking down the road, handbag draped over her shoulder. Daniel remembered that on Sunday, his mother would go out for a vast majority of the day. Jake followed Daniel, standing behind him.
Jake Tyler - What is it Dan?
Daniel continued to gaze out of the window as if waiting for his mother to turn the corner, out of sight and out of mind.
Daniel Vilaseca - The house is mine until midnight. My Mom’s gone out. She won’t be back until later. Like, way later. Early hours in the morning, drunk out of her mind.
Jake Tyler - On a Sunday?
Daniel Vilaseca - She doesn’t work.
That smirk that was starting to become synonymous with Jake came back. He grabbed Daniel by the shoulder and whipped him around, forcing him to make eye contact.
Jake Tyler - This is perfect. This is too perfect beyond words. I have had a brainwave. Your Dad used to teach gym right?
Daniel Vilaseca - Yes…
Jake Tyler - Does he have any protective gym mats lying around?
Daniel Vilaseca - There are like ten spares in the basement, why?
Jake Tyler - You’re a fucking idiot sometimes. Get the mats, I’ll meet you in the garage.
Jake walked out of the bedroom and walked down the stairs, the smirk still planted haphazardly on his face. He heard Daniel following suit as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Here, the two of them parted ways. Jake opened the front door and made his way outside whilst Daniel opened the kitchen door and made his way inside, on route to the basement which was only accessible through a trap door in the kitchen. Jake shut the door behind him and walked over a portion of grass that lay neatly outside the house. He grabbed a plant pot from the kitchen’s outer window sill and took a key from underneath it, making his way over to the garage and unlocking it. He was very familiar with the garage, he had been in it many times to play soccer and just piss around as a younger child. He knew where the key was, and it was always underneath the same plant pot. No-one before had even attempted to find it. Whilst it seemed careless, it hadn’t caused the Vilaseca family any problems yet. Jake heaved the garage door upwards and walked in. The family car was definitely gone unless it had shrunk and was lurking behind a lonely trashcan. There was plenty of room for a mat area on which Jake could teach Daniel the ins and outs of fighting. He hopped from one foot to the other, stretching his neck. He had seen it happen all too often, and a lot of people thought it was just false hype, but Jake found it relaxed him and helped him to accomplish a fight. He had never fought professionally. That was the only downfall. But all he needed to know came from the referee’s mouth the previous night and from the actual fight itself. Jake heard a door open and his neck snapped in the direction of the door opening. He turned his full body to see that there was a door he had never noticed before in the left hand corner of the garage. Daniel walked through with a trolley containing at least seven black protective mats. Jake smirked as Daniel wiped his sweaty forehead, shutting the door behind him.
Daniel Vilaseca - I’m not too sure about this Damia-
Jake Tyler - Shut up and put the mats down Daniel.
Daniel shrugged and took a mat from the trolley, letting it fall to the ground. It made a loud slapping noise as it hit, echoing throughout the garage. It was a badass noise, like a gun being fired. Jake assisted Daniel in taking the mats from the trolley. He couldn’t let him do it by himself and waste valuable teaching time. There were nine mats in total that had been aligned in a three by three square. Jake spotted some gaffer tape from the shelf and went to work taping down the mats for more protection. Ten minutes taken to do that, even less time would be taken to rip it back up again; a good few hours of solid teaching to bulk Daniel up. Standing on the centerpiece of the mat-constructed square, Jake beckoned Daniel over to him.
Jake Tyler - Right then, let’s get this baby on the road. Dan, what do you feel is your weakest point? We’ll advance from there.
There was another unsure shrug from Daniel, looking to his left as if there were two cartoon figures on his shoulders; a devil and an angel; though they wouldn’t help in this situation. They couldn’t tell him his weakest point when it came to combat. Only he knew.
Daniel Vilaseca - My weakest point is probably just defending myself. I leave my opponent too many open areas for them to gain and offence.
Jake Tyler - Okay, that’s a pretty good place to start, and I guess we can start off with… okay, I’m going to ask you to throw punches at me, anywhere you want but regarding the disqualification rules, and I will defend them. Then I’ll show you how it’s done.
Daniel Vilaseca - Okay…
Daniel disguised a shrug as a shiver of adrenalin rush, but Jake could see through it. He held his arms up ready to defend himself. He had to get it right or these lessons were down the proverbial shitter. Daniel thrust his left fist towards Jake, his right fist following with a fraction of a second’s delay. Jake blocked the first fist and grabbed Daniel’s right fist. He then began to fall to the mats, using his free arm to push Daniel in his breastplate, flipping him over. With Daniel now on the mat and Jake still holding his arm, Jake had successfully blocked the offensive and turned it into a submission move. He didn’t lock in the arm bar though, and stood. Daniel rose to his feet and turned, zebra-sighing. He didn’t know how good Jake was, but it looked like he was going to find out today. Jake smirked and clenched his fists, clasping them together.
Jake Tyler - Did you see how I did that?
Daniel Vilaseca - Yeah, I did.
Jake Tyler - Now I’m going to throw punches at you, and you have to do the same. Push into my breastbone and flip me over, keep a hold of my arm and lock in the submission hold. I’ll then show you how to combat the submission hold. Ready?
Daniel nodded with a fierce intensity. He stood, poised, his arms up by his face. Jake threw out his left fist, slower than Daniel had done it, and blocked it with his forearm. Jake then thrust out his right fist. Daniel grabbed him by the wrist, began to drop, pushed into his breastplate and flipped him over, just as Jake had done it, but with a slight groan as he mustered up his strength in order to perform the move. Breathing quite heavily, Daniel began to pull on the downed Jake’s arm, but not looking to incapacitate Jake at all. Suddenly, Jake’s legs were wrapped around Daniel’s neck. Jake, using his strong leg muscles from years of being an amateur runner, flipped Daniel over onto the mats. Daniel had to release his hold of Jake’s arm, and now found himself on the receiving end of a stronger arm bar from Jake. Jake had his legs still wrapped around Daniel’s neck, obstructing the movement on his other arm and thus preventing him from using his legs as a means of escape. Jake began yanking on Daniel’s arm.
TBC