Mr. Banana Hammock hunts the most dangerous game...man

I'm choppered up to an exclusive resort in Western Maryland for a weekend retreat to meet with high government officials to discuss the importation of my image and style to a handful of communities around the beltway that seem to lack a coherent image and style, namely Wheaton, Silver Spring, and Rockville.

So yesterday I’m out in woods. I'm business networking with high government officials and their families. Innovative business paintball solutions or something. I’m wearing my Carla Behrle leather pants. No shirt. They make me take off my medallion of a Buddha Vitarka Mudra flanked by a couple of Bodhisattvas. Dangerous I guess. In the wilderness stalking the most dangerous game, man, my ripped physique is up to the challenge. Me? Muscle mass, density, power, intensity, mental focus, daring. That is about the size of it.

While I’m out in the Maryland wilderness to escape the all the attention I receive from the women in Washington DC., I also figure I could incorporate some of the ancient teachings of paintball into the even more ancient and horrible Shohei-Ryu-Bollywood Karate which I practice. It would give me a jump on some of my foes. Incognito Sweetie, of whom we already know something about, and Aurora Green, of whom we know precious little. Aurora and her cartel of Bashi-Bazooks, trafficking in counterfeit tampons and also supplying the Tae Bo Underground with those BootCamp Elite™ Billy Bands they often use in battle. More deadly the nunchucks.

Protective gear is on my face. I wear a belt with canisters of extra paintballs placed strategically in front of my banana hammock to protect my prodigiousness. I begin to stalk my prey. Slowly through the woods I creep, careful not to make a sound. I see him. Pinned behind a blind, waiting to take out one of my teammates. Five feet away. He does not hear me. He does not see me. I see him. I take aim. He turns to look at me. He screams out of weakness and turns to protect his front. His back to me I shoot him. He screams again, this time from pain. I feel no mercy when I am hunting the most dangerous game. It could cost me dearly. I raise my paintball gun aloft and howl at the sky. I have vanquished my foe. A nine-year old boy.

I figure I got a good workout, so there’s no reason to hit the gym today. I want to show the kid I harbor no hard feelings, so upon returning to DC, we decide to hang out at Café Rumba. I order mojitos. I make his a virgin. He’s a little thin and poor at paintball so I get him a shot of baby fur seal Somatotropin. I also order one for myself. So we’re smoking cigarettes and talking about my latest run-in with Incognito Sweetie and the Tae Bo Underground. I tell him how I fended off a series Knee-Front Kick-Jack Combos, Knee Cross Combos, Back Fist Punches, and Side Lunge Stretches. And then how I broke out in song. How “Dholi dhol baajaa” seemed appropriate since that is the song Urmila Matondkar sang in the lemon ghargara choli that I was wearing. How as I sung, danced, lunged, punched, and kicked, that it seemed as this group was no match for my skills. Snake-creeps-down-and performs-the-dance-of-the-Shakti, Golden-cock-stands-on-one-leg-Dhandia, and needle-at-sea-bottom-Araalam mudra followed with a HamsaPaksham mudra, and all that.

And him? He’s all, ““Dholi dhol baajaa?” I would’ve sung “Dulhan hum le jayenge” from the film “Dulhan Hum Le Jayenge.” The music and lyrics are of the same brand as the earlier ones from Anu Malik and David Dhawan. But it does grow on you after a while.” And I’m thinking to myself: typical 9 year old.

Anyway, I send him home to his parents. I hope he learned something about being a man this weekend. It might save his life some day. Also, I hope the high government officials in Maryland learned something about me as well -- I am total concentration. Total control. Savage intensity. Grace and Dignity. Ruthless paintballer. If any ladies out there think they can handle themselves as well as me and are tired of the somnambulant New Age milquetoasts of craigslist, you know where to write.