Kicking Down Signs and Taking Names

In the "Webcomic without Pictures" format done by a writer whose work I fear, respect and have no choice but to grovel in front of. Rebecca Bergstrom. Check out her writing at Hitherby Dragons

Ping stared down at the bowl, pasty, pale yellow noodles suspended in weak sweet soup. Cheap, assymetrical chopsticks held loosely in his hand as he chewed on what the fast food stand tried to pass off as a wonton dumpling.

He looked at his food, his half nibbled siopao sporting the same kind of mysterious meat seasoned to an unidentifiable chewy mass.

That was the last straw.

Ping stood, walking over to the stand. The Lady Behind the Counter eyed him suspiciously, her eyes glancing from him to his half-eaten food.

"Yes?" she asked susiciously.

With explosive Kung Fu action, Ping hurtled upwards, his leg smashing into the lighted electric sign that proudly proclaimed "Great Dim sum!". His mighty kick broke the sign in half with a powerful explosion, electrical sparks flying in all directions as other patrons of the dimsum place fled for their lives.

"Your dim sum is no good!" Ping said giving her the thumbs down sign.

The Lady Behind the Counter narrowed her eyes. Around them the dimsum chefs circled around Ping, weilding knives and skewers.

"You dare to dishonor my dim sum stand?" the Lady cried out in a shrill voice, "Face the wrath of my school!"

Ping ignored her threats as he dropped into a fighting stance. Righteousnes shone in his very countenance, his being suffused with the will to win and rid this food court of bad dim sum forever!

The chefs advanced, a whirlwind of aprons and cutlery, each one eager to avenge the name of their dim sum craft upon the body of the arrogant stranger.

Unfortunately, no one in the food court could stand in front of the might of Ping's Righteous Chopstick Stance, coupled with the secrets of the Avenging Soydish Style. The chefs attacked, their knives ringing out loud as their blows fell like rain. Ping deflected each and every slice, cut and thrust with a tiny faux-porcelain soydish, before countering viciouly, using the cheap square cornered chopsticks as his only weapons.

The chefs fell to the ground groaning and clutching a wounded arm here, or a broken leg there. More unfortunate ones fell with broken ribs, crying out in agony.

Finally the battle ended, with only Ping standing, holding a singular chopstick, as he had just used the other to knock out one of the fleeing chefs.

"So you think you can defeat me?" The Lady Behind the Counter said as she stepped out, putting aside her apron.

"Those who wickedly serve substandard slop such as that despoil the reputation of Chinese Cooking!" Ping replied, "And for the wicked, there is no victory."

She laughed, "You are all talk! Show me your best stance. I will defeat you before this siomai touches the ground!" She reached into the steamer with her bare hand, tossing it upwards.

No sooner had the siomai left her fingers did The Lady Behind the Counter launch herself towards Ping, delivering a vicious kick towards his head. Righteous Ping barely deflected the attack with his lone chopstick, staggering backwards with the power of the blow, the marble tiles under his feet breaking at the force of the blow.

Ping found himself falling back, even as The Lady Behind the Counter pressed her attack. Ping tried the Righteous Chopstick Stance, only to be countered, the Lady's nails digging into his chest, drawing blood.

"You cannot win!" She shrieked.

Ping ducked low, under her next strike, before unleashing his Final Technique, raining punches into her midsection, suffused with Fire Chi drawn from the Internal Steamer Technique. Each punch shook the very building, dishes and glasses exploding from the very outporing of internal energy.

The Lady Behind the Counter sailed backwards into the broken sign, electricity coursing through her body.

Ping watched her, convulsing against her cart.

"For bad dim sum, there can be no forgiveness."