Several of the class instructors caught in extrely bad situations surrounded on all sides by students instantly exploded into action and tried to get into an open space.
But alas, all of the ten year olds accepted into the National cha Pilot Academy were no slouches. They were all exceptional kids!
There was no way they would allow a fish already caught in a net to escape.
WHAM! WHAM! BAMM!!
Hundreds of overeager students unleashed attacks on those poor class instructors with all of their strength!
"Argh! Damn you little punks! Be gentle with your kicks damn it!" Roared a tall, burly and tattooed but particularly unlucky class instructor angrily as nearly a hundred kids leapt on him and tackled him to the ground with sheer numbers!
He was, of course, Class Instructor Savage John, one of the rare caucasian staff in the academy.
Savage John was, well, big and savage. In a street fight, he would be a complete fighting machine, dishing out horrific incapacitating attacks by the dozens per minute.
Elbows, knees, knuckles, headbutt, anything and everything would be used to deal damage.
But against ten year old kids, he was just a big, fat lump of cushion.
He couldn't retaliate at all, for fear of injuring them!
"Class Instructor! You're really bad at fighting! Haha!" Shouted a little girl gleefully as she unleashed a powerful combo of kicks and punches at his tummy.
"He's like a soft teddy bear! I have one just like him at ho!" Shouted another boy loudly.
"Teddy bear? More like a bolster!!
Wham! Bam! Bam!
The physical and emotional damage continued to roll in unabated onto Class Instructor Savage John.
And finally, the inevitable happened.
"UWAAAAA!!" Savage John stood up forcibly and flung at least ten punching and kicking kids away from him in the process.
"DAMN YOU LITTLE PUNKS! WHO WAS IT THAT CALLED A BOLSTER? DO I LOOK LIKE SOTHING YOU'D DRY HUMP?" He roared angrily.
He glared at the kids scattering round him and pointed at a random one.
"IT WAS YOU, WASN'T IT?" Savage John bellowed like a maddened bull.
"N-no! Of course not!" The kid quailed under Savage John's imnse glower and quickly scampered away to look for an easier and less prickly target.
However, his outburst had caused an unexpected problem.
"Dry hump? What's that?" The kids who had successfully landed three hits on the class instructors asked each other curiously.
"A hump is like a cal hump. Dry humping is probably turning a bolster into a cal hump-like shape." A little boy said sagely.
"You idiot. What's the purpose of doing that? Dry humping is using a bolster to dry your snot when you are having runny nose, so that you don't have to waste tissue paper. That's why he got pissed!" A little girl scoffed at the little boy sage.
"Dry humping is drying snot? That's interesting. My dad is currently down with the flu. I will buy him a bolster to dry hump so he can get better soon." Another little girl said.
"I have a spare bolster. I'll give it to him to dry hump too." Her best friend said generously. "The more bolsters he has to dry hump, the better."
"Thanks Emily!" The little girl said happily. "Dry humping is so aweso!"
A nearby female class instructor almost choked when she heard the kids discussing what dry humping was.
She quickly moved to disperse the kids before they could co up with even stranger and more outrageous theories on dry humping, but the damage was done.
A wave of furious parents probably called in soon after that when their precious daughters started gifting their sick friends and relatives bolsters to "dry hump" to get better soon.
But I digress.
Apart from Savage John and his "dry humping" outburst, the first lesson went on pretty much according to what Instructor Black Kong had intended.
With so much pressure, the Class Instructors finished their sandwiches in record ti and at least four thousand kids had to run laps because of that.
Although more kids managed to land three hits on class instructors than planned due to my brain wave and the subsequent fat boy's loud exclamation, most of them still failed to do that on the fleet footed Class Instructors.
And speaking to a bunch of half head students a few hours later, Instructor Black Kong drilled in the lessons of that morning's class.
"Lesson number one in combat." Instructor Black Kong said grimly four thousand panting kids and one thousand kids with smug smiles and smirks on their faces.
"Understand the paraters of your mission! I did not say that you only have one target. You assud, without bothering to ask for clarification, that you could only aim for your own class instructors! IDIOTS!
When you ASSU, you're making an ASS out of U and !
You dumb idiots kept charging at your own class instructors for more than half the ti they took to eat their sandwiches! And during that ti, you ignored many other Class Instructors running around near you!" Instructor Black Kong roared at us.
The kids knew that was coming, so they rely stared back at him sullenly.
"Always be clear on your objectives. Many of you could have avoided running these laps if you were clear on what you had to do." Instructor Black Kong said. "Today you ran laps as a consequence of being complete idiots. In a real mission, you would be dead. Rember that."
He let the silence hang for an entire minute to allow his words to sink into our minds. And for four thousand kids, the words were seared directly into their flesh, powered by their aching muscles and for a few, swollen ankles.
"Lesson number two! Why the hell are you all charging at your class instructors in the first place? What the hell are these right here?" Instructor Black Kong stomped his foot down and caused a couple of little stones to jump up.
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