Punching Tom Hanks: Dropkicking Gorillas and Pummeling Zombified Ex-Presidents---A Guide to Beating Up Anything by Kevin Seccia
Authors: Kevin Seccia
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on the line. Hung out to dry, on that line … And there’ll be hell to pay.”
YOU: “He doesn’t live in hell, you’re thinking of the Devil not Death. Now let me introduce you to the devil you don’t know (gesture to fist)… this is Harry.”
SEAGAL: “ Not nice to meet you Harry. They say idle hands are the devil’s playground … But playtime is over…”
At this point, you’ll notice Seagal is slightly winded from walking in a circle and delivering menacing lines for the past five minutes. Keep him going. This is how you wear him out. Low impact aerobics that he doesn’t realize he’s doing. He will not last.
SEAGAL: “They say the devil is in the details … The ‘they’ who said it? I murdered them. Now it’s your turn.”
YOU: “That’s … all you came up with for ‘Death’?”
SEAGAL: “I’m a little dizzy from walking like this … plus, some of the options I was brainstorming seemed too on the nose, you know? It’s a fine line.”
YOU: “It is a fine line … and you just crossed it. Now I’m gonna cross you off my list. It’s like Santa’s naughty or nice list. Only mine’s called the ‘dead guy’ list—”
SEAGAL: “What’s the other list? ‘dead guy or what’?”
YOU: “It’s … ‘dead guy or nice,’ also. If it ain’t broke…”
That sound you hear? It’s Seagal’s exhausted body hitting the pavement. It’s also the sound of your name being etched into the history books … It was two distinct sounds, they just came back-to-back and it was hard to differentiate them.
HOW TO BEAT UP WORLD CHAMPION BOXER MANNY PACQUIAO:
An Interview with Manny’s Trainer Freddie Roach
Freddie Roach is the best boxing trainer in the world. He’s won a record four “trainer of the year” awards from the Boxing Writer’s Association of America, trained dozens of world champions, and is the man responsible for turning Manny Pacquiao into the flawless fighting machine he is today. I’ve trained at Freddie’s “Wild Card” boxing gym for many years. He was the referee for my first underground boxing match, a match he had the audacity to stop merely because my trainer, inexplicably, threw in the towel after the second time I was knocked down. Crazy … From that night on rather than fight at the shows, I became the ring announcer because—depending on who you ask—either no one had the guts to fight me, or I broke down in tears and begged Freddie not to ask me to fight again.
KEVIN: Be honest. Do you think if I got myself into the best shape of my life—I’m talking no soda, no drinking all night, no more Cocoa Puffs for dinner (on weekdays)—I’d be able to defeat Manny Pacquaio?
FREDDIE: No … Not a chance in hell.
KEVIN: He’s 147 pounds, I’m 175 pounds. Isn’t that a huge advantage for me? Before you answer, let me just say, he is 147 pounds of solid muscle. I’m 175 pounds of some muscle and lots of fat. Now, you know who else has a lot of fat? The killer whale … I’m 30 pounds heavier than he is. Isn’t that an advantage?
FREDDIE: And 30 pounds slower. No advantage.
KEVIN: Okay, what about this? We know what Manny can do when he applies himself. He’s worked hard and turned himself into the best boxer on Earth. Now, conversely, I have never worked hard in my whole life, for more than two or three minutes. If I finally decided to apply myself, there’s no telling what I’m capable of, and more than that, we have no idea what my upper limits are. I could be special. So, having said that, do you think I could defeat Manny?
FREDDIE: You couldn’t do it in your prime, you can’t do it now.
KEVIN: What if when the fight started, Manny was asleep and didn’t know I was showing up, and I had a golf club and was wearing a catcher’s mask for protection? And I was on roller skates.
FREDDIE: He’d still win.
KEVIN: What if there were three of me, and Manny was a third of his actual size?
FREDDIE: I think you need three
YOU: “He doesn’t live in hell, you’re thinking of the Devil not Death. Now let me introduce you to the devil you don’t know (gesture to fist)… this is Harry.”
SEAGAL: “ Not nice to meet you Harry. They say idle hands are the devil’s playground … But playtime is over…”
At this point, you’ll notice Seagal is slightly winded from walking in a circle and delivering menacing lines for the past five minutes. Keep him going. This is how you wear him out. Low impact aerobics that he doesn’t realize he’s doing. He will not last.
SEAGAL: “They say the devil is in the details … The ‘they’ who said it? I murdered them. Now it’s your turn.”
YOU: “That’s … all you came up with for ‘Death’?”
SEAGAL: “I’m a little dizzy from walking like this … plus, some of the options I was brainstorming seemed too on the nose, you know? It’s a fine line.”
YOU: “It is a fine line … and you just crossed it. Now I’m gonna cross you off my list. It’s like Santa’s naughty or nice list. Only mine’s called the ‘dead guy’ list—”
SEAGAL: “What’s the other list? ‘dead guy or what’?”
YOU: “It’s … ‘dead guy or nice,’ also. If it ain’t broke…”
That sound you hear? It’s Seagal’s exhausted body hitting the pavement. It’s also the sound of your name being etched into the history books … It was two distinct sounds, they just came back-to-back and it was hard to differentiate them.
HOW TO BEAT UP WORLD CHAMPION BOXER MANNY PACQUIAO:
An Interview with Manny’s Trainer Freddie Roach
Freddie Roach is the best boxing trainer in the world. He’s won a record four “trainer of the year” awards from the Boxing Writer’s Association of America, trained dozens of world champions, and is the man responsible for turning Manny Pacquiao into the flawless fighting machine he is today. I’ve trained at Freddie’s “Wild Card” boxing gym for many years. He was the referee for my first underground boxing match, a match he had the audacity to stop merely because my trainer, inexplicably, threw in the towel after the second time I was knocked down. Crazy … From that night on rather than fight at the shows, I became the ring announcer because—depending on who you ask—either no one had the guts to fight me, or I broke down in tears and begged Freddie not to ask me to fight again.
KEVIN: Be honest. Do you think if I got myself into the best shape of my life—I’m talking no soda, no drinking all night, no more Cocoa Puffs for dinner (on weekdays)—I’d be able to defeat Manny Pacquaio?
FREDDIE: No … Not a chance in hell.
KEVIN: He’s 147 pounds, I’m 175 pounds. Isn’t that a huge advantage for me? Before you answer, let me just say, he is 147 pounds of solid muscle. I’m 175 pounds of some muscle and lots of fat. Now, you know who else has a lot of fat? The killer whale … I’m 30 pounds heavier than he is. Isn’t that an advantage?
FREDDIE: And 30 pounds slower. No advantage.
KEVIN: Okay, what about this? We know what Manny can do when he applies himself. He’s worked hard and turned himself into the best boxer on Earth. Now, conversely, I have never worked hard in my whole life, for more than two or three minutes. If I finally decided to apply myself, there’s no telling what I’m capable of, and more than that, we have no idea what my upper limits are. I could be special. So, having said that, do you think I could defeat Manny?
FREDDIE: You couldn’t do it in your prime, you can’t do it now.
KEVIN: What if when the fight started, Manny was asleep and didn’t know I was showing up, and I had a golf club and was wearing a catcher’s mask for protection? And I was on roller skates.
FREDDIE: He’d still win.
KEVIN: What if there were three of me, and Manny was a third of his actual size?
FREDDIE: I think you need three
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