[h3][i]SLAM[/i][/h3]

Clarence was sitting inside of the van. It was new at the time.

"Clarence... why, why, why did you have to fight that boy? He was only nine!" asked his father. His father had been in charge of a large construction company, but had only done so by working hard and pushing his way to the top. His hands were covered in scars, and, although he was only 32, the strain of raising several children, paired with the fact that his wife, Claire, seemed to now be pregnant with twins, had destroyed his youth, making the tired man seem 52 years old, not 32.

"He was making fun of Dave," said Clarence, "At least that's what Dave said. He said that Dave wasn't your son, and that's why you named him differently. Why everyone else has 'Cs' in their name. Well, that's what Dave told me, anyways."

"Do you know why Dave is named Dave?" asked his father. 

Clarence shook his head.

"It's because Dave looked like a Dave. And you looked like a Clarence. And Cecelia looked like a Cecelia. And Catherine looked like Catherine. We didn't have much control. But you didn't have to hit the other boy. You could have just told him."

"But what if someone made fun of your brother, wouldn't you want to hit him?"

"Son, punching people is never the answer. Why, anyone who thinks they can solve a problem in just one punch is a fool. What was the boy's name?"

"Saitama," said Clarence. 

"Saitama? I find that hard to believe. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Are you sure?"

"I mean, that's what Dave told me..."

"Really? The day after he got mad at you, Dave told you to pick a fight with a random kid at school he barely even knows? Don't you think Dave was just trying to get you in a bit of trouble?"

Clarence shrugged. The two sat in silence for a bit, then Clarence's father started the car and began driving. Ten year old Clarence had no idea that, it was in this car that his father and mother would be killed, ten years later.

"Next time you get in a fight," said Clarence's father, "hit the solar plexus." Clarence's dad pointed to the solar plexus on his own body.

"Why? What?" asked Clarence. 

"The solar plexus is a terrible place to be hit. Knocks the wind right out of you. Also, in between the eyes. Yikes, that one will make you cry. Maybe I should give you boxing lessons, would you like that?"

Clarence nodded. Little did he know that, less than six months from now, he'd be kicked out of boxing class for his lack of skill.

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"I swear I'll never forgive you!"

Clarence blinked. He braced himself for the punch, dodged out of the way, and then slammed his fist into Gumbo's solar plexus with his left fist. Then, he brought his right hand up to Gumbo's face, and gouged at his eyes in a way that would make the three stooges proud.

[img]https://i.imgur.com/Iex4T6b.gif[/img]

[@Phobos]