In the 1900hotdog library, there are countless books made up of total bullshit, sometimes because the author was a lying grifter and other times because they were a stupid failure. This book, My Life’s Fight: the life story of Mark Bailey, has one of each. It’s the fully fictional life of a fighter who can’t fight as told to a writer who can’t edit, fact check, or spell. By any metric, it’s the worst, most pointless book ever written.
Aside from growing up dumb, racist, and filled with drugs, Mark Bailey has never done anything. But Donna Kshir transcribed every story he told about drug deals gone wrong, prison fights, and so, so many underground world championship street combat battles. They all have the same details of Mark getting his jaw and hands broken, winning because he never gives up, then listening to doctors say he’ll never wake up from his coma. Oh, and sometimes he signs autographs for his fans before the coma. And another thing…
This book was written in 2008.
This obviously fake bullshit was published ten years after every home had access to all information in the world, and Donna Kshir sat here with the scarless, chubby survivor of three hundred street fights and twice that many comas and never thought to Google any of the 27 world titles he won. To call her a bad writer is inadequate. She’s a bad 3rd grader. She’s a chimpanzee declared too stupid to use for shampoo testing. This trusting, mitten-handed cow doesn’t know the difference between “their” and “there” and at least 40% of the book is made up of previous paragraphs clumsily rewritten with different spelling errors. If you asked her to write instructions for soup she would say, “My naybor sayd soup is invented by wizerds to de feet breakfast. Wizords com bined all their majic to kill eggs with Soup.“
I don’t want to cherry pick her worst mistakes, so to give you the fairest possible example, here’s the very first page of the book:
You probably assume Donna is simply lazy as fuck, poorly educated, and untalented in a way beyond criticism. You can’t review this as a work of writing– it’s like mocking a ransom letter for missing a comma. If a janitor wrote this, you’d fire them for being the dumbest goddamn janitor in Pennsylvania. The middle school this woman dropped out of should burn itself down in shame. But, get this, according to the Dedication, this piece of shit book fulfilled her lifelong dream. And then, as she does all fucking book, she mentions the same thing on the next page in the Acknowledgements. Do you know what this means!? I think she was trying. This 72 page pamphlet of clumsily transcribed lies as told by the dumbest goddamn liar in Pennsylvania, which neither she nor anyone proofread, was her dream.
Let’s talk a little about Mark Bailey’s entirely fabricated life story. It started like most stories do…
In his early 20s, Mark was already an International underground fight champion. He was so deadly, and everyone knew it, but people would always spit on him and then he had no choice but to choke them out with lethal choke holds no one had ever seen before. The fact that anyone, even poor Donna left behind by our education system, couldn’t see this guy was full of shit is depressing. Donna must have so, so much MLM merchandise in her reverse-mortgaged home while she raises money for her ghost investigation equipment.
Every character who passes through Mark’s life is a movie cliche. He was trained in sombo, which isn’t how you spell that, by an evil Russian named Vlad, a name which means, “I should have looked up a second Russian name before I made this character up.” When Mark finally defeated Vlad, Vlad said he was ready to go back to street fighting, the thing it was already impossible for Mark to lose at. I think Mark was still around 22 at this point, and so he sort of retired from made up fighting to get into made up drug dealing. This landed him in made up legal trouble.
His lawyer, “Mr. Smith,” told him he was going to have to go to prison for 25 years unless he snitched, but Mark Bailey doesn’t snitch. It wasn’t exactly clear on why his testimony would help them, and honestly Mark’s entire legal saga was a narrative mess. He seems to have seen maybe one TV episode about the process, but definitely not a second. Here’s how he dealt with the threat of prison:
You don’t have to be a genius to know how Mark described his first day in prison. Take a minute and try to guess what he said, and what Donna Kshir recounted breathlessly and with a bag of hammers’ understanding of punctuation.
You’re right. Within three paragraphs Mark earned the respect of the big black man who runs the place by beating him up and turning down his job offer to be him.
To be legally allowed back into grade school, her teachers had to list Donna as “class hamster” on her paperwork. I have a feeling “Kshir” isn’t her real last name; it’s just the closest she could come to spelling “Kangaroo Brain Transplant Subject H-14”
Back to Mark’s story: due to a paperwork mixup he got thrown into a prison for cancer and AIDS patients. This weird digression seemed more interesting to him than normal prison which he instantly conquered, so another paperwork mixup sent him to a prison for the criminally insane where several things he saw in movies happened. In particular, Mark talks a lot about all the rape. Every few pages it comes up and Donna is not equipped for it. She seems to not know whether the word is a verb or some kind of adnoun, and whenever Mark invents another unspeakable sex crime her sentence structure falls apart worse than usual. It’s… I don’t know, “weird” isn’t the word. I mean, sure it’s weird, but it’s more like the worst aspects of their stupidity and dishonesty are painting a masterpiece of failure. There’s nothing quite as troubling or shitty as what these two piles of garbage came together to make for zero money and the benefit of no one.
By the time Mark got out of prison he was no longer a racist and gave his life to God. So he went back to street fighting where he maimed many fictional men in Jesus’ name, Amen.
Once he fought his way back to being a world champion of the streets, again, he became a teacher. He opened a school where he taught his lethal, unorthodox martial arts techniques to children. His students entered tournaments and “sat back and laughed, walking away with the medals and swords.” And since children were winning swords in no-holds-barred grappling tournaments, I guess we can add “martial arts tournaments” to the list of things Mark Bailey doesn’t know anything about and Donna Kshir can’t Google.
Every page of this tiny, never-before-read book is a fucking disaster. Mark’s fake life is a rough draft of a screenplay called Untitled Wayans Brothers ’70s Action Movie Spoof, and Donna Kshir is lucky if she can spoon chocolate pudding into her dog’s mouth without either of them losing an eye. Once the saga of Mark Bailey gets to this child Karate section, he and Donna slop together a swamp of words I fucking dare you to make sense of:
Longtime, tastemaking Me fans might recognize Sensei Mark Bailey from a Cracked article I wrote 10 years ago called “7 Fighters Who Lied Their Way to Legendary.” In it, I condensed thousands of pages of Internet drama and police reports about Mark and six men like him into 4000 words. It was no small feat, but they took the whole thing down after one of the subjects’ lawyers threatened to sue. I wasn’t told which one, but the liar who took the number one spot, Frank Dux on whom Bloodsport was based, was also known for filing ludicrous lawsuits. I couldn’t believe the nerdy comedy website caved in so easily. To what? A superspy ninja’s famously unreasonable lawyer!? Psh.
I have good news, though! Here at 1900hotdog.com, the closest thing we have to a legal team is a People’s Court board game that smells like 40-year-old beer, so now that I’m thinking about it, I’ll just reprint the whole thing here.
So now all I need to do is find an old draft, copy edit it, reformat it, find a ten-year-old backup drive of notes and graphics, Photoshop those, then reflect on the outrageous words I remember being funny in the 2000s but look like hate crimes today. After that, it’s just several hours of followup research to find out what all these shitty men have gotten up to in the last decade, and that, aspiring comedy writers, is how you make two days of work out of a half day off!
Please re-enjoy this…
My cousin knows a guy who killed someone by touching him by using an illegal Karate move known only to fifth graders. Knowing I would one day face him I learned how to kill on the streets from Tibetan jungle sherpas. During my martial journeys I studied with these men– these legends.
John Decyk is a professional fighter who was stabbed in the knee ligament at the age of 16. Doctors said he would never walk again, but fighting legend Royce Gracie helped prove them wrong. He went on to train John to become one of the top MMA stars in the world, winning 57 fights, multiple titles and finding time to also be a Marine, firefighter, and bail recovery agent. Soon after he posted his amazing life story on Wikipedia, John “The Jam Man” Decyk also became gay, studied with the X-Men, and won at least three cheese-eating championships.
As you had to have guessed, John Decyk’s fighting career took place entirely on the World Wide Web. He didn’t know that we knew, though. He wrote long blogs about his rivalry with boxer Floyd Mayweather, who seemed to know everything about this “The Jam Man” guy and all his make-believe championships. My gut says he’s not telling the truth, but there is an outside chance John Decyk was some kind of magic fighter that only Floyd Mayweather could see.
As if they needed to, everyone did their part to bust the myth of John Decyk. Decyk fought back as hard as he could refuting every joke and fact check with another lie. It was all less than meaningless. He was like a starving man crawling away from food to get to his fake moustache. He must have removed the occupation “professional dick sucker” from Wikipedia 200 times a day alone. He could have easily become the world’s most respected professional dick sucker in less time.
Among the highlights, he posted a hilariously fake discharge certificate to explain why he wasn’t in the Marines and tried to prove he was a bail bondsman with a shirtless picture of himself carrying what looks like 2 pepper sprays, 3 cell phones, and 30 pounds of baby fat. This joke is going to be more cute than funny, but in The Jam Man’s case the proof really was mostly pudding.
To give you an idea of how difficult John Decyk was to outwit, one person offered him a $3500 purse if he showed up to fight. John Decyk asked “what kind of fag would want an expensive purse.” That’s how deep his knowledge of the sport was after “64 pro fights.”
How It Ended: Arrested
John’s fiance’s mother was involved in a court case against the world champion, and she Googled his name as research. This led her right into a forum devoted to fucking with him. She was only too excited to join in, and she soon teamed up with the Internet to turn him from laughing stock into crater. He was humiliated then arrested for a number of charges, one of which was fucking shooting a gun at his brother’s head.
2020 Update: In 2016 John did an interview where he was asked about this article and he claimed it was a lie that he was telling all these lies. I swear I’m not saying this just to protect our precious fun, but it’s possible the liar with a history of lying might be lying about the lies and he, in fact, fucking sucked and still sucks.
6. Craig Rehage
Long after it should have been possible to try something this stupid, a fight promoter in the midwest got a call from a welterweight fighter named Craig Rehage who claimed to be undefeated in 18 amateur bouts. Sensing bullshit, but still being quite lazy, the promoter booked him for a match at 170 pounds anyway. Craig called before the match and said he was at 178 pounds and simply couldn’t lose any more weight. When he showed up, he weighed 190 pounds. Also, he didn’t know how to fight. It’s like he showed up to an online date and she said, “You fat dumbshit. You lying, bee-sting-faced cautionary tale of drug abuse. What was your plan here? Claim to be Georges St-Pierre and hope things magically work out?” and he only heard the very last sentence.
A second promoter came forward with a near-exact story about Craig, and an Internet star was born. The MMA Underground Forum scrambled to find more information about him, and what they found was a gold mine of douchebaggery. Craig had invented stories about being the training partner or cousin of dozens of UFC fighters to try to get free t-shirts, had fake pro hockey and football careers, and had submitted himself as a sports celebrity to any page that would allow it. You know that satisfying feeling you get from seeing someone you hate fail? Imagine an entire community sharing in that together.
As their blissful mockery grew to critical mass, Craig himself joined the forum posing as a lawyer who didn’t personally know Craig but decided to take some time to verify all his outrageous claims. It was as convincing as a swarm of bees in a trenchcoat. Craig can barely spell his name and here he was attempting the same transparent deception from everyone’s first day on the Internet.
How It Ended: Arrested
Craig learned nothing from the time he spent fooling no one as the absent-minded lawyer that was NOT named Craig Rehage. So he tried the same trick in real life– he found himself in some trouble for stealing hockey equipment and decided to get back at one of the police officers by writing harassing letters to his own girlfriend as the police officer. It turns out it’s still a felony to falsify charges against a police officer even if it’s that police officer’s most easily solved case ever.
2020 Update: As far as I can tell, this guy just kept getting arrested for scams that never fooled anyone, but weren’t fun enough to be cataloged by an entire community of fight nerds.
5. Manny “The Hialeah Kid” Reyes, Jr.
Manny Reyes, Jr. competed in point Karate before he made the switch to MMA and became the UFC Lightweight Champion. This was shocking to the UFC and its fans since he had never had a single match in it or any organization. He was, however, one of the first to adapt Karate for Internet message boards like in this desperate plea to UFC referee “Big” John McCarthy:
“DO SOMETHING UFC….DO SOMETHING GAYFUCK MCCARTHY…….. I DARE YOU…….I DARE YOU……. PIECE OF SHIT…I HAVE NO RESPECT FOR YOU………YOUR MOTHER OR FATHER EITHER…..OUR MOTHER WAS A WHOAR AND YOUR FATHER WAS A FAG… LOL………..I’m laughing at you………Send me an Email Address…….Fag!”
By the time this master of persuasion was done karate chopping his keyboard, his Myspace page had so many belts he didn’t even know how to spell them all. Unfortunately, it takes exactly the same amount of time to claim you have a belt as it does for a search engine to prove you don’t. In this rocket age of technology, you can only be the world’s greatest fighter for 7 or 8 seconds at best. Which meant Manny wanted to look cool, but only to the stupidest people alive. Maybe it was a short-term plan to sleep with very dumb girls because he had a theory stupid people herpes could cure regular people herpes? It’s honestly hard to get into the mind of someone dumber than anyone any of us will ever meet.
Manny actually did go on to build a “real” MMA record including several fights in Lords FC. This is a strange promotion that only has two fights on each card: one with Manny winning against a made-up opponent, and another fight between two made-up opponents. Where we live, reality, he has two wins in King of the Cage, but no one has been able to stay awake through them to verify it. Manny seems clinically insane, and has claimed many times that these two wins over bad opponents with no experience and losing records made him… well, I’ll let him explain:
I am the #1 LW in MMA and I did Fight for KOTC….so I am the KOTC #1 CHAMPION……..
If Bob Hope were alive, he’d say that this fella knows less about belts than a pair of suspenders. Seriously, though: he’s clinically insane. When Manny Reyes, Jr. puts on pantyhose, he truly thinks he’s Miss Teen USA and gets pissed off he now has to change all his business cards.
Here’s a fun Manny story: He once had a heated disagreement with the actual UFC champ Jens Pulver. I’m not sure what started it, but Jens Pulver refused to back down from his position of not knowing who the fuck Manny Reyes, Jr. was.
How It Ended: Beaten to Undeath
Reyes continued to challenge many pro fighters and then call them cowards when they wouldn’t fly him out and pay him $10,000. He whined and bitched so much that you couldn’t tell if he was trying to land a fighting career or a Vagisil commercial. Eventually, lightweight contender Hermes Franca offered to fight him at AFC 10 for $1 with the rest of the purse going to Reyes, Jr.. If you were Manny, this would be right when your friends convinced you to apologize and save some dignity. Well, Manny’s only friend was a dwindling tube of dick cream and all it was saying was, “Think of all the me you could buy.”
When the two met in the ring, Hermes Franca didn’t set the world record for fastest knockout that night, but he only missed it by 30 seconds. Hermes pounded Manny Reyes out so quickly and easily that it looked like he was changing a disagreeable pillow case.
When they woke him up and explained what had happened to him, the now more mentally-challenged Reyes had the balls to say that it was a moral victory for him because Hermes used karate. This wasn’t accurate, but victims of head trauma often get their language centers scrambled. Manny was probably trying to ask his dick cream where it left the remote. Either way, you have to concede that the guy’s more determined to be a dipshit than the rest of the world is to fix him.
After the Hermes loss, he returned to inventing wins for himself over the Internet. No one was interested, so he got the idea to start a rumor that he had died! Here’s the problem: his ego couldn’t resist bragging about his popularity and imaginary world titles when he submitted the fake reports, so they read mostly like sarcasm. He scrambled to get anyone’s attention while he debunked the very rumor he started, but all he’d proven is that when the time comes, this goddamn idiot won’t even be able to die correctly.
2020 Update: Let me just Google hi– oh my god, this lunatic isn’t in jail? And he’s teaching Karate to gyms full of badly masked children during an airborne disease pandemic? Fuck.
4. Scott “Lionheart” Blevins
Tiny and insane Scott Blevins is an expert in something he thinks is called “Maui Thai” and claims to have been trained by “Renzin” and “Rocky” Gracie in Virginia. This is notable because there are so many r-named Gracies that teach jiu-jitsu it’s actually sort of an achievement to make up two and not accidentally pick a real one. Scott also claimed the UFC signed him to compete in their 135 pound division, which at the time, of course, did not exist.
With the size of a 4th grader and the fighting abilities of that 4th grader’s little sister, Blevins lost all his amateur fights before losing his first 13 professional fights, all of them in the first round, most of them in less than a minute. It’s possible that he’s worse at fighting than anyone will ever be at anything. Think about it scientifically: if there is a worse fighter on Earth, they would cease to be that moments into the testing process. It’s like trying to directly observe a quark– all you get for your troubles is a series of confusing paradoxes and an angry void that suddenly knows you’re gazing into it. What I’m saying is that Scott Blevins sucks so hard he defies our understandings of science.
How It Ended: Inside Out and Arrested
Before he could achieve his UFC dreams, Scott Blevins was arrested for several counts of sexual misconduct with a 14-year-old. He has all kinds of stories to explain how he didn’t do it including a corrupt cop and a frame job by a different sex offender, but the one thing the great teachers Renzin and Rocky Gracie never taught him was how to properly tell a lie. His defense was so childlike and filled with holes that Scott Blevins forgot where he was and tried to lure his own words into a van with ice cream.
2020 Update: A few years ago he was thrown back in jail after he stabbed his roommate for trying to stop him from stabbing his girlfriend’s tires. So Scott’s still kind of pursuing his dream of being a fighter, but we should add two more losses to his record. At this point, the police in Indiana must use him to train cadets. They’ll never find a person more certain to be committing a crime but also just so fucking bad at fighting.
3. Sensei Mark Bailey
Five time shootfighter-of-the-year and former Navy SEAL Mark Bailey has led a hard life. He was a 27-time title-holder in The World Fighting Championship, but had to deal drugs to supplement his income since that’s not a real thing. This criminal activity landed him in prison, stripped of all his titles. Luckily for his cellmate, his prison stay was also imaginary. Why is Mark Bailey so dangerous? Because Navy SEALs are trained to control their violence, and Mark Bailey should have told you this earlier: he’s not a Navy SEAL at all. One might think there’s some truth to the drug part of his story, though.
Mark created a website to document his domination of the world of martial arts. He was undefeated, with almost all his fights ending via death. There were no eulogies for his fallen opponents, but the webmaster did produce this grim explanation: “Mark Bailey never intends to kill… but in some cases his striking strength is too powerful for a human body to withstand.” Mark Bailey isn’t even considered a heterosexual since everything he fucks is technically a puddle within seconds.
How It Ended: Starting From $0.33 New or Used at Amazon.com
The problem with Mark Bailey is that all the imaginary fights he’s been in have given him very real brain damage. Noah’s Ark has fewer plot holes than this guy’s history. His made-up fight record reads like an idiot trying to spell UFC fighter names and he physically looks like someone made a pussy out of cookie dough and balanced it on chopsticks. His entire existence was debunked by the Internet in less time than it took him to accidentally kill “Hinso Grasie” and “Kent Sharmrock” in underground kickboxing matches.
Nevertheless, he published an autobiography called My Life’s Fight. I ordered a copy and the shipping-and-handling charge was $3.66 more than the cost of the book itself. Probably because touching it gives your hand Down’s Syndrome. Oddly enough, after thousands of fights, he finally had one in front of people in 2008 at the main event of Skip Hall’s Dixie Throwdown IV in Alabama. He fought a man named Dave LaFlamme, and I have some things to say about this “fight.”
Let me first describe the deadliest striker on the planet, Mark Bailey. Mark Bailey holds his head and hands perfectly still and tries to block jabs with a double slap like a child in a high chair who wants more chocolate. I have some combat sports experience, and if Mark didn’t have 87 wins by spinal paralysis on his fight record, I’d swear this guy had never even sparred before. As he circled, Mark’s face was holding a festival of vulnerability, and his rapidly slowing love handles seemed to be saying, “God, nobody told us there would be all this circling.” LaFlamme answered back with a few not-quite-punches before lowering his head into a choke. I’m not saying the fight was fake, but if it wasn’t, someone should tell these gay gentlemen that there’s a crowd of Alabamans that can see them slow dancing.
Not everyone sees Mark as an obvious, ridiculous fraud. Why here’s a letter from “K. Uchideh” a real person from Korea who wrote to Mark after he visited his or her school, home, or dojo:
“Thank you so much for the autographs that you took the time to sign, even though your hand was broken. Your style is unbelievable! I can see why you have won every cage championship match that you have entered. I am anxiously awaiting your next training video and want to see you fight again soon. Congratulations on winning the World Shootfighter of the Year title for the 5th straight year.”
K. Uchideh – Korea
2020 Update: Aside from making fun of his bullshit book for our hot dog comedy website and a single video of him endorsing some kind of holographic wristband you stick to yourself for energy, there’s no trace of Sensei Mark Bailey on the Internet. But kudos to 8eight Holographic Magic Bracelets for landing that endorsement from a sloppy hillbilly who is literally only known for lying about murder.
2. Rafiel Torre
Let me start with a totally true story. A man named Ralph Bartel was invited to a secret underground martial arts tournament in the woods… a competition so secret and exclusive that one might almost call it pointless if one were stupid enough to think it happened.
Despite its secret underground nature, one reporter got wind of the story. It happened when Ralph Bartel called the reporter and asked for a ride there. It’s possible that the tournament was only secret because no one had ever thought to tell a reporter about it until that moment.
For the trip, Ralph brought two bags: one full of camping equipment and one secret bag of mysterious contents. Ralph asked to be dropped off– he had to make the rest of the journey on foot, alone. The reporter knew enough about secret underground martial arts tournaments to fill in the blanks, and like your mother, every blank was filled with Ninja.
Ralph said to come back in three days. Well, three of our days. Time works differently when you pass through the Karate Portal.
The reporter arrived back at the rendezvous point three days later. Ralph, mighty Ralph, was waiting without a mark on him from his three days of secret battle. He was holding one bag of camping equipment and one bag-sized World Champion karate trophy. Ralph had done it! The reporter was surprised to find out that a forest full of dead martial artists has no odor. Did the coyotes already eat them? And if so, wouldn’t they now be ninjas? Knowing he was unravelling the edge of something big, he drove the secret champion home.
Maybe even more absurd than all of that is the fact that the reporter bought it. Ralph, now a world champion, went on to invent other stories about his Brazilian father who trained him in jiu-jitsu. In fact, he was so good at Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that he decided his name should be Rafiel Torre, a name 710% more Jitsuey than Ralph. These and other lies got him an invitation to the first Abu Dhabi world submission grappling tournament. To say he got his ass handed to him is almost physiologically accurate. He was submitted and eliminated in under a minute.
When people questioned him about how he lost so badly and wait, also didn’t actually have a Brazilian dad, he adjusted his story so that he was now a master of ju-jitsu, the Japanese style that isn’t very good. Oh, and he didn’t know where you guys got all that Brazilian dad stuff from. The nice thing about Rafiel’s lies were that they were fluid enough to flow around most scrutiny. Because of that, and an exhaustive series of apologies, he remained a part of the MMA community for a long time. He even won his first pro fight at King of the Cage 7: Wet and Wild. Note that when I say “won,” I mean that he most likely paid a guy named Ioka Tianuu to gently place his leg into a kneebar. There were infants locked in cars outside the Soboba Indian Casino that night that noticed there was something fishy about the fight.
How It Ended: Tragedy
During sessions of group sex, Rafiel and another man’s wife fell for each other. All it took was her thumb up his ass while he poked Hepatitis B into a fat stranger to tell them it was love. Working backwards from a Knot’s Landing script, Rafiel and the woman hatched a plan to kill her husband Bryan and take his life insurance. But since treachery is hard, they changed the plan to just asking UFC fighter and former marine Gerald Strebendt if he’d kill Bryan for $10,000.
Gerald said no.
Well, shit. Plan B: Rafiel waited until Gerald had probably forgotten about that and went ahead and killed Bryan himself. Ironically, with jiu jitsu. He covered up the crime by hiding the body in the back of Bryan’s truck in an Albertson’s parking lot and claiming self defense when what must be the world’s greatest detective found the body.
The community was very nearly shocked! They knew Rafiel killed a lot of world champion martial artists during his jungle tournament days, but cold-blooded murder? I guess we can all take a lesson from it– if someone has lied about everything in their life and they’re leaving an orgy with your wife and your life insurance policy, don’t be too quick to trust them.
2020 Update: Not a ton of updates on the murderer serving a life sentence. Maybe in 2030 there will be some fun “Rafiel” news!
1. Frank Dux
Frank Dux was a spy and a master of ninjutsu, which is just a Japanese word for somersaulting megaspy. He was the best. He trained under a shidoshi whose name was only coincidentally the name of a James Bond villain. He was in a covert branch of the military so secret that even our military didn’t know about him. He doesn’t exist so hard that birds shit right through him. But someone did know about him: a shadowy society of martial artists who run a tournament called The Kumite. They invited Frank to enter which was the stupidest thing they ever did, because the CIA or whoever never trained him how to not kill everyone’s dicks.
From 1975 to 1980, he was the undefeated Full Contact Kumite World Heavy Weight Champion. He had 56 consecutive knockouts in one tournament, a number too stupid to be fake. He set four world records in the same tournament including “Fastest Recorded Kick with Knockout: 72 mph.” I guess the Kumite Athletic Commission figured it was okay to keep radar guns pointed at the fighters at all times since Frank removed most of their gonads before the long term effects of radar exposure could manifest. In fact, he punched so many dicks through their sacred walls that city temple inspectors shut them down for code violations.
The best thing about Frank’s lies is that they’re too impossible to even give the benefit of the doubt. Fifty six wins in a single elimination tournament implies magnitudes of participants more than the population of the Earth. And the idea that each body part on each fighter is being clocked for speed by ancient Chinese radar guns is something a four-year-old would explain to be unlikely to a 3-year-old.
Also, suspiciously, the organization that held the Kumite seemed to share a home address with Frank Dux, and the trophy they gave him was the same trophy he suspiciously paid for himself. Think about that: The Kumite is so secret the only paper trail leads to Frank Dux, professional secret agent. That means the other fighters, while obviously not very good at fighting, are unbelievably good at being secret. Why, if Frank Dux hadn’t written a book about them and bought himself that trophy, I doubt I’d have even believed they existed.
How It Ended: Awesomely
In 1988, Frank’s extremely true story was made into the film Bloodsport which is still Jean-Claude Van Damme’s and possibly the world’s best movie. Dux worked on the film as the fighting coordinator where he taught Van Damme how to properly get punched in the face for several minutes and then win by spin kick. Jean-Claude would go on to use these fighting techniques exclusively for two decades.
Years later, Dux and Van Damme worked together on the story of The Quest. It was a film like Bloodsport only with Bloodsport elements. Dux took Van Damme to court because Dux apparently had a big gross revenue deal for his “Story By” credit. In the film industry, this type of arrangement is almost as common as an actual ninja spy holding a trophy for Best Ninja Spy. To see both of these things in the same place is like finding a human vagina on your unicorn: literally fucking incredible.
Frank Dux never managed to produce evidence of this amazing agreement since the documents were in a box that was destroyed by a fire. Fitting in perfectly with his life of the fantastic, this fire was a magical fire that destroyed document boxes and nothing else. It sounds ridiculous now, but imagine you were a judge presiding over a case between the cocaine-filled star of Double Impact and an actual, real-life superninja who controls fire. That judge said exactly what you would say: “Pay the man, Timecop.”
2020 Update: One thing you can never trust is information about Frank Dux, but I personally have some. Aside from him hassling Cracked to take this article down, I’ve dated one woman who told me how Frank Dux creepily hit on her at her ninjutsu dojo. I’ve also purchased one autographed headshot of Frank Dux from a San Francisco spy shop where the clerk had no less than five stories of Frank Dux being a total asshole. As far as I can tell, he had been waiting his entire life to complain about Frank Dux to the first person who asked about him.
And while I have never had the chance to tell Frank Dux how his weirdly compelling shittiness has touched my life, I have personally thanked two of the people who made Bloodsport for making Bloodsport. Paulo Tocha, the Muay Thai guy who had a gentleman’s rib-smashing contest in the middle of he and Jean-Claude’s fight, gave me some unorthodox round kick tips in a Hollywood jiu jitsu school, and Stan Bush pretended he didn’t hear me when I requested “Kumite, Kumite” at a San Diego Comic-Con show. So this asshole, liar ninja helped create some wonderful memories. Thanks, Frank!
Special thanks to Sherdog.com, Eddie Doty, Bullshido.org, the Underground Forum, Paulo Tocha, Stan Bush, and Frank Dux.