“Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
STORY BY MULE AND STEFAN BASED ON A CONCEPT BY STEVE, EDITS BY STEFAN, ORIGINAL ART BY STEVE
2016 A.D. DENVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT THREE WEEKS EARLIER...
"Wake up Mule, your BBQ will get cold!" I woke up from this Duke flashback dream to find myself in Denver at B.D.'s Mongolian Grill over on Wazee...then as I was chowing down on some delicious food...I heard the loudspeaker in an airport...airport? WTF?
I woke up from my recursive dream...but I was NOT in B.D.'s Mongolian Grill in Denver, but out in the Denver International airport and it was three weeks earlier in time than the dinner I was dreaming about. The loudspeakers were calling United Flight 343 from Los Angeles to Denver, which was the connecting flight of a China Air flight from Ulaanbaatar to Los Angeles with a stop in Beijing. Damn Mongolians...time always goes non-linear when I am messing with all things Mongolian! I think it all started when I got a bad case of the runs from Bali-Hai Mongolian Grill in Durham, N.C. Mongo thought it was from the Food Truck we hit earlier, but I KNOW the truth...FUCKING MONGORIANS!
I think I half expected the exchange student to ride out of the plane on a horse with a braided top knot, wearing furs and shooting arrows from a tartar bow, like something out of the 12th century. What I had not expected was a studious looking, well mannered millennial in a cashmere sweater and jeans, playing Angry Birds on his smart phone.
|... I smell vagina...|
|Hey Ladies, you ever fly the friendly skies of AIR MULE?|
|Is it a short flight, or a long non-stop?|
|Long and hard ladies, LONG...AND...HARD|
|It just so happens, we have a LAY-OVER|
|Thinks: Lay-over, that is Stewardess for|
AFTER THE LAY IS OVER, WE FLY AWAY LIKE BIRDS.
Says: What number should I text you gals at?
|I am supposed to meet a large, blond muscular American|
called...um Donkey or Pony or something....
|Are you Chinggis? I am Mule!|
|Yes, I am Chinggis, how did you guess?|
|A pleasure to meet you!|
|United Flight 343, your baggage will be arriving on carousel 12|
on the West Terminal of baggage claim...
Any way that is how I remember it NOW, so...
"Wake up Mule, your BBQ will get cold!" Wait a second, I was just driving Chinggis from the airport to his dorm in my jeep when suddenly I am back at B.D.'s Mongolian Grill and it is three weeks LATER. Damn Mongorians and Mongorian BBQ and their time warping effects!
It was Happy hour at B.D.'s and I were slinging down $2 Coors Light Drafts, while Chinggis was going a bit more upscale and going for the $3 Blue Moon drafts.
The pair of us had just finished at my DOJO where I had been showing the kid some BJJ moves. "How come you are Asian, and don't know shit about martial arts?"
"I don't know shit about JAPANESE martial arts", he countered, "I know PLENTY about MONGOLIAN martial arts!"
"Like how to kick in a door to rape and pillage?" --I inquired Mulishly
Chinggis rolled his eyes and said, "No, I am talking about Bökh, Mongolian wrestling. I am trained in the Khalkha style of this ancient art. Mongolians INVENTED wrestling, don't you know."
"No, I am pretty sure that was the Ancient Greeks..." I rejoined. "I am sure of that, I think they developed it as a prelude to buggering..how do you separate the Greek men from the boys as the say."
Chinggis was emphatic that this was wrong, and the Mongolians gave wrestling to the world. "9000 year old Neolithic cave paintings in the Bayankhongor Province of Mongolia prove it started in my homeland!"
"That just don't sound right to me, I just KNOW it started in Greece, like they were practicing wrestling moves with bulls back in Minoan Crete and shit like that!" I said stubbornly, not quite sure as to the chronology of the Bronze Age vis-a-vis the Neolithic. Mule ain't no archaeologist, although I have seen all the Indiana Jones movies. So AS GOOD AS...amIright?
Chinggis said I was being "Insular and parochial" and had an "Occidental bias" I was not sure what that all meant, but Asians gonna Asian, knowhatimean? ...plus as I also needed to google wrestling in order to present more cogent arguments for my position, I thought it best that we tabled the discussion. I instead learned more about my foreign guest...
He had not yet done his 1 year of compulsory military service. He had grown up in the "big city" (Ulaanbataar ) and had only once slept in a yurt as a tourist. He said he only knew how to ride a horse "a little"-- to which I replied...
"Are you sure you are a Mongolian? Because you sound like a banana..."
"Yellow* on the outside, white on the inside."
"I am Mongolian, born and bred. Can't you tell from my accent?"
"Dude, you barely have an accent, you sound more British, than Asian."
"My English tutor lived in Hong Kong before he left in 1997."
Before long, encouraged by the number of sloots in the joint giving us appraising glances, I was sharing some of my bedroom exploits, to which my readers are well acquainted. Getting nothing in return, I probed and…it turned out….Dude was A VIRGIN!!!
"O.K. now I KNOW you are not a Mongolian! What do you do, hold the horses while your horde was out raping and pillaging?"
Chinggis rolled his eyes "How many times do I have to tell you that we don't have hordes anymore, there are only like 10,000 people in our entire military! Plus we have tanks and planes, albeit old ones! But in truth, I am the only one of my friends who is still a virgin."
Now, in my book, this was a Category A Emergency that needed urgent attention. A plan was called for.
I looked up to the ceiling and muttered: "Challenge accepted!"
Dismissing the sloots whose tongues were by now hanging out, I reckoned I knew just the sloot who would be perfect to pop Chinggis's cherry. She was patient, skilled and was one of Jayson's favorite teachers, so she knew how to be all INSTRUCTIONAL. She certainly had taught Jayson and his wrestling crew a thing or two. She reminds me of Mrs. Warren from back in the day.
So bundling up the little ball of Mongolian Muscle, I frog-marched him round to her house.
|FUCK HER HARD AND HIGH |
CLASS OF 2O17
Suzie L. had the biggest tits on the planet (or at any rate the parts of the planet that I had visited) and they were REAL not a pair of big bags of sand that could be used for flood control). I had done her a number of times and she was right up there on the list of satisfied females who were consequently more than happy to oblige me. I am not one for repeats, but Suzie had MAD SKILLS, and was not clingy, so she was one of my Tier 1 Regular bishes. I even had her number on my phone with a unique ring tone.
Once I explained the mission, she was more than willing to help me out. In fact she was more than willing period. As for Chinggis, his eyes were popping out on stalks - and I couldn’t help noticing from the bulge in his jeans that they were not the only thing popping out.
I settled himself on the sofa while Suzie led the kid to the action room. I pick up a magazine (Muscle and Fitness, as it happened - you can always tell about a person from their reading material).
At first all was quiet and I was beginning to wonder whether I would have to finish the job myself when suddenly there was a shriek which told me that the Mongol had found his mojo.
After about 20 (very noisy) minutes the door opened and a frazzled but happy looking "Khan" stumbled from the bedroom. I slapped my new buddy on the shoulder and sat him down the couch....and handed him the magazine as Suzie yelled out:
After I finished, I rejoined Chinggis who still had a grin on his face. "Hey bud... you ever been to a roadhouse?"
"No, but I have seen the Swayze movie. It was one of the films I watched to learn colloquial American English."
"Then you are ready..." I said with a smile.
I took him to one of my favorite dives, Lincoln's Roadhouse, a Cajun Cafe and Blues bar. It has good food, live music and a rowdy crowd, perfect cap to the evening.
Suddenly a group of cowboys get into a heated discussion over which Magnificent Seven movie was better, the 1960 classic directed by John Sturges or the 2016 remake directed by Antoine Fuqua. Chinggis wanted to weigh-in that both were mere echoes of Akira Kurosawa's 1954 classic Seven Samurai, but I cautioned him that both factions would unite to stomp his erudite ass for his presumption.
Well fists started to fly, bottles began to break and it looked like a general melee was about to erupt. Now normally your Mule would not shy from such a scenario, but would join in with testosterone-fueled enthusiasm, and besides as a Millennial I HAD to take the side of the snazzy new remake over some old 1960 flick. However much I would have like to make my two-fisted argumentation, I decided that if Chinggis wound up in jail or in the hospital, my Mom would KILL ME. If it is was just ME in either of those two places...she would be more...put out...so I looked over at Chinggis, decided I was feeling mighty hungry after our drinking, and decided to go and check out this neat little Asian Fusion place down the block.
We order some appetizers and Cream of Sum Yung Gurl , and finish them pronto, but before we can order an entre, I have to take a wicked piss. When I come back
it seems that Chinggis had been hitting on this hot HBB (good on him), and this irate Guido manlet who might/could of been her boyfriend had taken umbrage at this. Now Chinggis tried to be polite-like and apologetic, and explain that he didn't know she was with him, and that he meant no disrespect. The Muscled Manlet was having none of it. He was like a dog with a bone, he wasn't letting the matter go. He seemed to be all prejudiced-like towards those of the Oriental persuasion, that made ME want to intervene and kick the Guido's ass on general principles.
So we took it over to the nearby city parking garage, so that Asian Fusion would not be added to the lengthening list of places where I was PERSONA NON GRATA in Denver. To insure privacy and no interference, we made our way down to the the underground lower level, which was deserted at this hour save for a yellow sports car pimped out to douche levels that belonged to the Manlet, plus a couple of mud splattered pick ups, and a big ass Hummer with a confederate flag decal and a TRUMP FOR PRESIDENT bumper sticker, that must all belong to some of the roadhouse 'roided rowdies.
|I expect a nice clean fight....|
|Watch yourself Cannoli, this is my little Mongol buddy, and |
I got my eye on you!
|I got this, brah!|
|I hope Chinggis realizes this is a brawl and not a tournament!|
The two men circle each other, with the Guido Manlet shooting death stares at Chinggis, his tiny muscle-packed frame rippling, sinews tense. Chinggis looks cool as a Chinese cucumber, oddly enough given he is Mongolian and not Chinese. As for ME, I am watching closely, so I can jump in to save Chinggis before this musclebound Eye-talian Manlet does any serious damage.
|Manlet puts the Mongol in a pumphandle hold |
and begins to hoist him up
|and down goes my buddy in a world of hurt!|
"OOOOFFF!" bellows Chinggis, as a huge amount of air and spit flies out from his mouth, looking like a burst from a whale's blowhole. The Manlet rises, dragging Chinggis up with him. He flips Chinggis's big muscled body over, planting him on the concrete. SPLAT! Chinggis groans and hisses, "Shaaryg!" as he lands on his back hard.
"Fuck, this is going about as bad as I thought it would."--I calculate. I get ready to intervene, but then opt against an early stoppage to this catastrophe. Gonna let this be a learning experience for Chinggis. Everybody needs a few good ass-kickings in his life, builds character, is my way off thinking! But I promise myself that I will jump in before any long term damage gets done to my Mongolian charge.
|I need to do some BJJ training with Chinggis, |
this is EMBARRASSING!
|Well at least my little buddy is resisting the pin...|
|hmmm the Manlet has some skills...more skills than he has|
Guido Manlet climbs over Chinggis's chest, facing down on his body. He pins Chinggis's right shoulder to the concrete with his shin and sets his foot on the pavement on the other side of Chinggis's heaving chest. The powerful Guido grappler's muscular ass sits right above my buddy's face, his oversized package dangling down close to Chinggis's chin.
|I am sure glad I had them both take off their shoes....|
|He is stomping my buddy hard with them tiny size 6 feet!|
The muscled Napoleon slams both fists into Chinggis's sculpted abs, hammering the rock hard 8-pack with surprisingly little effect, especially considering the gutbuster move they had suffered earlier. In fact, the unfazed Asian musclehunk moves his hands onto Manlet's sinewy ass and pushes up, toppling the pocket size stud off him. "Excellent move Chinggis!"
|Now THAT is more like it!|
|Bouncing Manlet's head off the concrete pillar|
|Chinggis has gone from a fish out of water to a formidable foe!|
I see the Miniature Mafioso cursing and swinging his arms as both men scramble to their feet. Manlet is obviously an experienced bar brawler, while clearly Chinggis is not...and it SHOWS! Al Capone is stalking Chinggis, but my buddy is just standing there, like this is a fancy match with a referee and rules. "C'mon Chinggis, does it look like I am wearing a striped shirt and blowing on a whistle?!" methinks as I yell for Chinggis to "FINISH THE MUTHAFUCKA!"
|Knee to the groin! So Chinggis DOES listen when I am |
|This is the Mongolian for CRACKED NUTS |
--Chinggis said with another knee to the groin!
|Now you know a taste of the TERROR wrought by my |
Spaghetti-boy charges, but Chinggis is ready, kicking his right foot up, "Good Move!" But unfortunately it is a glancing blow as the skilled and athletic Manlet manages to dodge the full impact of the foot and slides past Chinggis, outflanking him. Chinggis turns to face his diminutive opponent, but by the time Chinggis turns his head and torso, the Lilliputian Goodfella is already airborne, slamming into Chinggis with a flying cross body block. SPLAT! Chinggis is flattened by the impact, slammed down on is back with the Manlet landing on top of him. The pint-sized musclehunk goes for the pin, but my buddy manages to kick out. Manlet grabs hold of Chinggis's hair and drags him to his feet. Mini-Corleone lays into Chinggis with chops to his pecs, driving him all the way back to the side of the building.
Manlet next hops up and grabs the back of Chinggis' head, then with the grace of a gymnast, pulls forward, using his leverage to force my buddy off his feet and forward. Chinggis lands face first on the pavement. Chinggis struggles to rise, but a foot to his back sends him right back down. SpaghettiOs mounts Chinggis’s back and grabs his biceps. He pulls Chinggis up into a camel clutch. Chinggis moans in the hold, his back stiffening as he’s folded up and back. Manlet has been unrelenting and he really knows this hold. Got to give this miniature pit-bull creds, he is a scrappy little brawler.
OK, that's it, as I start to move in. But I am not quick enough. Next thing I know, Manlet is leaping into the air, ready to splash down on top of Chinggis’s unmoving musclebound carcass. Unmoving until Manlet is airborne, that is. KABOOM! Manlet slams into the concrete, as Chinggis quickly rolls to the side, away from the plummeting muscleman. The pint sized Hercules lands with a loud SPLAT, holding his stomach and crying out in pain. He took a bad hit, lying face down and trying to will himself to rise. Now it’s Chinggis’ turn.
|Friends, Romans, countryman lend me your ears...|
...this one will do....
|I have come not to praise this Guido, but to BURY HIM...|
Chinggis rises to his knees then fires a series of fists of fury into Manlet’s abs. He is a regular Jackie Chan! Next, he moves up until he’s straddling Manlet’s head. He bends over and brings the Hot Pocket Calzone to a seated position. The Mongol muscleman drops down, driving his knee between Manlet’s shoulder blades as he grabs under his chin and pulls back. Manlet moans as he’s pulled back into Chinggis’s knee, which digs into his back. He cries out and reaches to pry Chinggis’s hands apart, but he can’t force them from his chin. Chinggis moves his arms, switching to a rear headlock, wedging Manlet’s pained face against the bulging bicep.
|Forearm Bash...that will mean a trip to the dentist|
for the Manlet!
|Elbow to the chin! The Guido is not going to be so pretty |
when this is all said and done!
|I ALMOST feel SORRY for the Manlet... ALMOST...|
|FINISH HIM!--I say in my best MORTAL KOMBAT voice|
Chinggis rises up, dragging Manlet to his feet. The thick stud struggles to break free, but Chinggis has other ideas. He steps back and kneels, dragging Mini-meatballs back down across his leg in a fast, devastating back breaker. CRACK! ARGH! The wrestler’s back crashes down across Chinggis’ thick, steel-hard thigh before bouncing off to land face first on the concrete. Manlet reaches his hands to his back as he writhes on the ground at Chinggis’ feet.
Chinggis plants his foot in the middle of Manlet’s back. He bends down and grabs hold of the stud’s wrists and forces his arms up into a surfboard. Manlet can only moan as his arms are forced forward, his shoulders feeling the pain. He tries to rise, but Chinggis’ foot on his back keeps him down. Manlet started strong, but Chinggis has really taken control and it’s showing on the Guido’s face and in his body. The huge, bulging muscles of this compact Hummer H3 were being thoroughly dominated.
|Mongol Mayhem as Chinggis Donkey Kongs the Manlet!|
|Percussive punches as Chinggis does a drum solo|
on the Manlet!
|Chinggis tenderizes the tough Italian beef|
|Manlet messed with the wrong Mongol!|
|The Manlet stubbornly refuses to yield, despite being in a |
world of hurt! Creds to the Cannelloni!
Chinggis tells Manlet to give, but he refuses. Chinggis lets go and stands up, immediately coming down with an elbow to the small of Manlet’s back. The Asian muscle stud rises to his feet, leaving Micro-mafioso on his stomach, moaning in pain. Chinggis stretches out then moves to Manlet’s head, grabbing him under the shoulder and chin.
Both men are sweating profusely, but Manlet can’t even counter the squeeze. All he can do is say, “NO!” to every demand that he give in. After a long period of time, Chinggis gives up on the hold, but he doesn’t let Manlet drop. Instead, he slides his arms up Manlet’s body, spreading his hands as he forces his opponent’s arms up. Moving smoothly, Chinggis pushes his hands behind Manlet’s head. He locks them tightly in a Masterlock version of the full nelson.
Chinggis crushes Manlet’s muscular shoulders, pinning his head against his chest. The Guido’s body is stretched out and while I enjoy the view, I also know the pain he’s feeling. It’s not fun. Chinggis commands Manlet to quit or be put out. The proud fighter refuses yet again. A furious Chinggis starts swinging back-and-forth, whipping Manlet’s powerless carcass around. I see the big hands go limp as they hang high in the air. Manlet’s legs lose any power remaining, leaving Chinggis as his only means of support. WHAM! Chinggis tosses the helpless Mediterranean muscleman to the ground.
|He went down pretty hard, I better check for a pulse!|
|As your doctor, I recommend you NOT mess with any |
|Should I post this on my Mom's Facebook with the note:|
He kneels down and grabs Manlet’s wrist. He lifts it then lets go. THUD! It crashes to the concrete pavement. Chinggis does it again. THUD! Manlet doesn’t react as Chinggis lifts his arm up for a third time. THUD! And it’s over. I move to Manlet’s body, trying to will down my hard-on as I kneel beside him. Not that I can help it, as it got me horny when seeing these two muscle men wrestle for domination. It was way too hot to resist. I’m only human.
|Here is one for the spank bank!|
Chinggis raises his arms in victory. He looks at me for approval
|This one is DEFINITELY going on the blog!|
I point out that here in Colorado we don’t litter, and help Chinggis carry the destroyed Dago over to the dumpster for proper disposal. Got to teach the kid, proper street brawl etiquette.
As we were hauling the unconscious manlet into the dumpster I have to admit for someone who came to Colorado as a novice Chinggis was becoming quite the scrapper. I think I had discovered a Mongolian prodigy of whom his ancestors would be proud.
|Actually I could use a lift to the Emergency Room!|
|Smile for Snapchat! Should I use the Asian face filter?|
...I wonder what that big blond guy is doing later....
As I turned away from the dumpster I discovered some of the drunken cowboys had stumbled our way from the Roadhouse, looking for their vehicles after the cops had broken up the fight at the Roadhouse... and by far the LARGEST of these inebriated rowdies decided to engage me because I was big and also on 'general principles'; as I tried to pull out my Louisiana charm which serves me so well in a courtroom, and in situations like these, a big, beefy cowboy fist came flying into my face and all faded to black.
2016 A.D. Foothills of the Rocky Mountains
I woke up at my Condo. The television was on, and the History Channel was playing a program called Secret Mysteries of the Mongols . My head was burning up with fever, having been sick as a dog the whole weekend. "I sure have crazy dreams when I am sick", I said to the walls. Empty cartons of Mongolian take-out lay on the nightstand to the bed.
The phone rang. It was my Mom. There was this little favor she wanted me to do...see there was this exchange student from Mongolia who was the cousin of a client of hers, and it would really help her out if I could.....
TIME SLIPPING AGAIN....GOD DAMN MONGORIANS!
Stay Tuned for Part Three: Kage Fight Khan!
** Of course East Asians are no more 'yellow' than Native Americans are 'red', or Caucasians are actually 'white', it is merely used as a slang here for differentiating between the subtle difference in skin tone between Caucasians and East Asians.
Now some of you might ask, do I know any classier Italian-Americans than the meathead guidos that show up in my blog. The answer is OF COURSE, but I don't tend to get into fights or blogworthy adventures with them, so they are really not going to show up on my blog, are they?
Nota Bene: the Mongolian Consulate in Denver ABSOLUTELY DENIES that Mongolians OR their cuisine has any effect on linear time. Mulesblog also encourages you to edumucate yourself about the wonders and beauty of 21st century Mongolia...and not be locked into easy stereotypes about this wondrous Asian land and its amazing people! A toast of Airag to Mongolians! Think about visiting Mongolia as a tourist:
|Ulaanbataar, Mongolia...not a single rampaging horde|