"Ready?" he asks.
"Bring it on," you say.
<<WHACK!>>
There is a sudden sharp pain on your left hand. Before you even knew it, Merv got you hard with his left hand in a classic crossover slap.
"Good opener," you admit.
You place your hands back over his.
Merv stares down at your hands. His concentration is heavy.
You try to anticipate his next move.
"He'll go for the hand that's already been hit," you think to yourself.
You feel his hands begin to move.
Qucikly you pull away your left hand.
But you guessed wrong. And you pay for it.
<<WHACK-ACK!>>
Merv swings both of his hands over and exacts a double slap to your right hand.
The sting is unbearable.
You grasp your right hand in pain, and stifle a scream.
Merv already has his hands out for another round.
Your right hand is red on top, and vibrates slightly.
Now fearing Merv's powerful slaps, you get jittery.
You think a slap is coming and yank your hands away fearfully.
Merv looks up at you.
You glare back and put your hands back in place.
You sigh, and get ready for more.
Merv takes advatage and whacks your right hand.
He's too damn fast.
You put your hands back, and this time just pick a random time to pull them away, hoping you can somehow fool him -- and then it will be your turn to inflict the pain.
You yank your hands away, but Merv is relentless. He smacks the tips of your fingers before they can even fully escape.
You shake out your hands, both of them now red and stinging badly.
Ten minutes later, your hands are beet red. It's still Merv's turn.
Fortunately, you're at the point where both hands are numb from the wrist forward.
And it's a good thing, because Merv doesn't slow down his attack.
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK-ACK!>> <<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>>
<<WHACK!>> <<WHACK!>>
In the end, you are left with two bloody messes of flesh at the end of each arm.
Merv wipes your blood off his hands with his t-shirt.
"OK, Marty," he says. "Call it, dude. I win, right?"
You just stand with what was once your hands still held out in front of you.
"No, Marty," says Merv. "I'm not gonna slap your hands any more. It's getting messy. Go get some Neosporin and some band-aids or something, will you?"
You say nothing, and just stare straight ahead.
"Marty?" says Merv.
No response.
"Shit," says Merv. "This happened to one guy before."
Merv takes off his shirt, tears it in two, and wraps each half around one of your mangled hands.
He picks you up and puts you over his shoulder, then stops to use a little of your blood to write a note on Sandy's door:
Back in 5.
-Merv
Then he carries you all the way back to Poppy's house.
He carries you into the basement and puts you down. Then he walks upstairs into the kitchen where Pam is making tea.
"You guys got
any vinegar?" asks Merv.
"Why?" asks
Pam. "You gonna douche?"
"Ha, ha. C'mon, Pam. This is important."
"Check that cabinet," says Pam.
Merv rummages through the cabinet and finds a bottle of apple cider vinegar.
"Butter?" asks Merv.
"Fridge," says Pam.
Merv opens the fridge and grabs two sticks of butter.
"This smacks of gross perversion," comments Pam.
Merv says nothing, but grabs a big metal bowl and walks back downstairs.
He pours all the vinegar into the bowl, and then drops in the sticks of butter.
Then he props you up against the furnace, unwraps your hands, and drops them into his healing solution.
"Take it easy, Marty," says Merv.
He kisses you on the cheek and walks out the basement door, headed back to Sandy's.
...
You come out
of your trance around midnight.
There's an empty bowl in front of you, and your hands feel rather clammy.
But otherwise you're in perfect condition.
Magic Merv.
He can fix anything.
You head over
to your favorite spot. You curl up, and go to sleep for the night.
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