|Humor Me| ::A Michael McIntyre Story::

::Chapter 1.16:: {A Tournament Of Sorts}

Michael McIntyre's POV:

Sweat. The very substance nobody likes to feel moistening their own body. It is the universal sign for you're either too warm, or too overworked.

Possibly both.

I was definitely pouring bucket loads of the salty bodily mixture, embarrassing as it is, the 'work out' itself hadn't been so unpleasant.

The Tae Kwon Do seminar Juliet had signed us up for was surprisingly entertaining and more fun than I had originally assumed it to be.

I hadn't really pressed on the topic of her being in the sport when she was younger. I had left it at that much detail, and abandoned it.

We were practicing a series of kicking and movement with one of the Black Belts that was running the tournament later on this evening.

I had learnt many things already today, it being only around two thirty in the afternoon. It was a very interesting subject.

In her specific 'gym' that she used to belong to, there were ten colored belts before Black. After, you could choose to reach ten 'degrees' of Black.

Reaching five degrees gave you the 'Master' status, seven would be 'Grand Master,' and of course eight and up would be 'Great Grand Master.'

Today we had gone through a pattern called 'Twenty One Kick.' It was fast, energy exerting, and overall a pleasure to learn.

Juliet hadn't taken time to bother learning it, which I thought was her loss. She was really missing out on this experience.

She said she had already learned it when she reached 'Yellow Belt' when she was younger. Assuming she was rusty on it all, I suggested she retry it.

She shrugged it off and continued to watch me in my success. She told me she remembered all the moves, but didn't want to participate.

After learning the entire thing, we took a small break. I downed an entire bottle of cold icy water while Juliet pulled aside our instructor and spoke with her.

They were speaking suspiciously in a corner of the large room we were currently in. I was watching carefully from the sidelines.

Later when she waltzed back over to where I had been standing, I began feeling cocky and giddy about learning the kicking before her.

"Would you like to make a bet?" I questioned with a smug grin on my face, turning my entire body towards hers.

She raised an eyebrow at my offer, crossing her arms and giving me a genuine smile, moving closer.

"Depends." she answered, now smirking at me. I let out a giant huff of air, taking in deep breaths to get my heart rate down.

"I will bet you fifty pounds I can do this 'Twenty One Kick' faster than you." I grinned, taking a gulp out of her own water bottle.