Abrasif on Primary Targets and Tactical Disengagement

ABRASIF 391:32
Abrasif on Primary Targets and Tactical Disengagement

The Prophet and his Zombie Squad were trekking in the Land of Nod, and decided to stop for the night at a nearby inn, aptly called “The Hungry Ruffian”. Once he had rested his Prominent Posterior on a cracked bench, and after quenching his thirst with some Ale, brought forth by an ample-bosomed waitress, the Count of Crustiness enlightened his students with an old war story.

“Many seasons ago, when War had yet to come to Krappyland, I started my apprenticeship in the Arts of Fighting, and took the Path of the Warrior to discover the meaning of Hand To Hand Combat.

T’was an arduous path, filled with danger and adventure, and I had yet to find out what worked on the roads. My fondest memory was that of my discovery of the Primary Targets and the importance of Tactical Disengagement.

Still arrogant from my time spent learning with the monks of Ludycris, and thoroughly inexperienced in the ways of violence, I had many misconceptions about surviving real thugs.

My first encounter resulted in disaster: I was faced by no less than 5 barbarians, who wanted to drink wine of my skull, and was totally oblivious of their ill intentions, having never spent time learning about human behavior, awareness, detection, and evasion.

As their leader commented crudely about my rags, I responded with a violent rebuttal, followed with a dozen punches to the head and face of the ill-bred creature. Content with my display of manly strikes – yet in some pain because of the impact on the thick skulled inbred -, and fooled by the barbarian’s apparent demise; I turned my back on his slouched form to resume my drinking (The booze was pretty famous in this part of town, but, that’s another story…)

Sadly, the Ale rejected me that night, for as I moved towards my pitcher, my left ankle was possessed with a desire to go in another direction, tripping me as a result. On the damp and dirty floor, I discovered that my former punching bag had grabbed my leg out of brotherly love, and was holding it against his blood-stained chest. What an idiot this vagrant is, I told myself while kicking his head in with my other leg.

Suddenly, a 6 legged creature started stomping me, and I discovered, a bit late, that barbarians seldom travel alone, and, as the pointy edge of leader’s knife punctured one of my eyes, that they carried concealable weapons in addition to their battle axes.

Do not ask me how I got out of that tavern that night, for I cannot recall the details. What I do know is that I tried “Dragon Sweeps Tiger” to stand up fast and got kicked in the gonads as a reward. This didn’t stop me from following the old adage “an eye for an eye” and applying it on the barbarian chief, gouging both his eyes, crushing his windpipe and using his knife to slash and stab his companions.

What a night, these Northern barbarians from the snowy plains didn’t seem to feel a thing, be it broken kneecaps or bio-mechanical cuts to limbs. They were determined to taking me with them to Valhalla. As I had other plans, and after seeing that attacking the eyes and throat worked better than breaking bones and slashing, I held close one of the uncouth, crushed his throat with a vice grip, and used him as a shield to flee with my life.

Fond ole’ memories my brothers, and that is the story behind the primary targets and the importance of tactical disengagement.

Fucking never turn your back to your opponents young ones, and make sure you get them right in the eyes and throat.”

Thus concluded the Prophet before belching and entering a mead-induced stupor.