Category: PUNCHING DAY
Unlock with Patreon
Magic grifters sell spells and potions to frustrated men in vests, the kind of men who consider themselves poly but don’t have a girlfriend. Karate grifters sell pokes and death touches to men in American flag shorts, the kind of men who are overcome by bloodthirst but unwilling to do a pushup. Because I’m laughably naive, I assume both kinds of men are too mentally unwell to purchase a firearm, which would solve all of their problems. Where are they to turn?
My motorcycle jacket came with concealed carry pockets that are exactly the size and shape of this book. I’d say it’s a coincidence, but I believe in internet magic. The fact that lightbulbs are lightbulb-socket shaped is all I need to know that reality is a simulation, and therefore you can hack it.
The author, S Rob, is a self-taught British Kindle wizard who writes the first 10% of scam books that promise to teach you magic for everything from male modeling to anal sex. Both real examples!
I say he writes the first 10%, because that’s the default sample size for an Amazon Kindle book. It’s an old grift: You fill the first 10% of an ebook with quality writing plagiarized from another source, and stuff the rest with random text, or nothing. In S Rob’s case, he fills the first 10% with genuine original madness, then once he thinks he’s got you hooked, he stuffs the other 90% with repeating paragraphs of copy/paste mystical nonsense. It has never worked on anybody but me. He has done it 700 times and I own four of his books. He’s made 40 cents, total, for 12 years of work. He considers it a rousing success, and will never stop.
But this time is different! The Martial Arts Book of the Occult is a physical book, published through an actual, real life, non-vanity press. Solar Vision Publishing is an occult press for magic loons and their supportive parent audience, but it still counts as a book deal! S Rob had to bring his A-game for this one, by which I mean he self-plagiarized the find/replace magic spam from several of his other books, but did not repeat the same gibberish in this book more than once. In these very strange, very specific circumstances, that’s high effort!
Let’s dig in, but first, a warning:
This book on how to voodoo curse your fists for maximum lethal spell-punching is never to be used for maximum lethal spell-punching. “YOU SHOULD, OBVIOUSLY, NEVER UTILIZE LETHAL FORCE AGAINST ANOTHER PERSON UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES,” I yell at my wife. “SPEAK THE WORDS IN BOLD OUT LOUD,” I scream at my dog.
Weren’t things better in the old days, when you and your mystical fraternity of karate wizards ruled the earth with an iron chop, or pinch? Look what woke has cost us: it’s like a man can’t even bless his fists with all-father Odin before uppercutting the mailman anymore. This book is going to fix all that. And don’t worry: you don’t need to master martial arts to use it, or even take one of the real ones. You only need a single point in any martial arts tree to unlock kicking, and then you can dump the rest into British foot magic. Let’s see who Sensei Doug thinks is “too fat to jumpkick” after you win a K-6 Taekwondo Exhibition with the help of Catubodua Battle Crow!
The problem isn’t whether or not you’ll win martial arts tournaments with S Rob magick, but that you should actually get two medals: the first for axe-kicking a fourth grader in half, and the second for summoning Papa Legba to turbocharge your kicks without even offering him his traditional hat full of rum. “It is difficult to be a good victorious fighter without fighting,” you should say, up there on the podium. That’s the kind of shit that gets you a high five from a Steven Seagal impersonator.
I know what you, the prime demographic for The Martial Arts Book of the Occult, are thinking: “Giant head in the sky who yells all my sexual thoughts at me, isn’t it cheating to use arcane hexes in a Junior Point Karate Championship? I mean, yeah, I get it – ‘PUT MY DICK ON THE ESCALATOR HANDRAIL SO EVERYONE TOUCHES IT BY PROXY’ – but are these spells ethical?”
“Ah, I see. If I simply win, and keep winning, then I will find that success, which is a form of winning, shall be mine. Thank you, giant head in the sky who yells all my sexual thoughts at me. I think I will FUCK THE GUMBALL MACHINE.”
Now that we’ve decided it would be silly not to channel the spirits of berkserker ghosts into our fists, let’s channel the spirits of berkserker ghosts into our fists!
I wish I had this book when I was a kid. Pausing a playground fight to rip long-dead hallucinating viking souls from their warrior’s heaven just to aid my wild windmilling punches wouldn’t have won me any fights, but it would have made me look exactly crazy enough not to mess with anymore.
Actually, that’s a common misconception. You can’t just trap a god in your fist and start wailing. You need to be careful which moves you enchant with internet grifter magic:
For example, only all blows with the hands, plus many others which the author of this martial arts grimoire can’t name, may be used. BEWARE: blows that affect how someone looks are extra dangerous. If you ask Santa Muerte to karate chop a man’s nose off, he may not take this well if you don’t kill him! So be extra sure to kill him. “YOU SHOULD, OBVIOUSLY, NEVER UTILIZE LETHAL FORCE AGAINST ANY PERSON UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES,” you should yell at your deformed, dying opponent. “SPEAK THE WORDS IN BOLD OUT LOUD,” are the last words he should hear.
Van Damme movies got into my head too early. No matter how many times it’s proven otherwise, I’m still convinced a good spin kick is the key to winning any fight and saving any marriage. Luckily, there’s a section just for me:
Webster’s Dictionary defines legs as: things you move around on, when you’re not using them to kill. I’m not going to sit here and front like caging the power of three giants in each thigh to fuel our superkicks is anything but rad as fuck. But then S Rob takes me right out of it when he says “some of us use our legs for a bewildering range of kicks.” This, coming from the man who needs a cane enchanted with the power of the spear that killed Jesus just to fight astral projections of catholics.
It’s tough to tell when I’m making things extra crazy for a joke, so here’s a tip: I’m not!
Still, I sat through the sexy child parts of many anime just for the promise of maybe one giant’s soul in a ninja’s foot or something. Three? PER leg? This spell rules. I give it 20/10 giants.
Don’t worry, grapplers. It’s not just striking magic. There’s a whole section just for choking enchantments and leglock ensorcellment.
“After all, what would life be without the ability to kill whenever you wanted?” S Rob muses, thinking he’s throwing a little relatable aside to the audience instead of exactly what some barrister needs to hear to close the Chip Shop Murders.
“Don’t worry, you can not NOT unhave the potential of negative redeadliness,” S Rob writes. “Looks good, let’s publish it,” another human being on this planet actually said.
If you’re having trouble with your choke form, might I suggest becoming possessed by the loa? Perhaps a skeleton lord. You want at least one skeleton lord and the blessings of some gravestones before attempting a Peruvian Necktie. Jiu Jitsu instructors hate this one weird trick! (It’s skeletons!)
We have killed our first opponent with black magic headlocks. That’s enough to advance to a yellow belt. We’re ready for the real stuff. Enough with Papa Legba, with ancient battle crones, with all the berserkers in Valhalla. We’re ready to summon a more powerful entity: S Rob.
You can summon S Rob as a Jojo Stand!
I know you’re tempted to use S Rob for his own mighty powers. Like maybe there’s an all you can eat shrimp buffet and the owners of the restaurant killed your father. But no, the S Rob Stand is only here as an assistant to valet Odin across worlds.
Yes, S Rob did write a book in which he required you to say “S Rob, he without limits or boundaries” out loud. If you actually did it, please check your crotch. You will find your genitals have migrated to a worthier host. Please inspect your neighbors for duplicate genitalia, S Rob will teach you how to magick them back in his next book PUSSY OR COCK THIEF MAGICK.
Now, I know what you, the prime demographic for The Martial Arts Book of the Occult, are thinking: “WOLVES HAVE MY BLOOD.” And you’re right, but also, “isn’t this a little arrogant, S Rob?”
There’s actually a good reason why we summon S Rob instead of ancient gods and all-powerful beings: ancient gods and all-powerful beings might have weaknesses.
An S Rob Stand is only weak against shrimp buffets, and even then, we’ve already shown how that can truly be a strength. It’s astonishing that when tasked with making a tulpa, an imaginary being who can take any shape, S Rob came up with: himself. But bigger.
The problem is he’s not big enough. Cenobite glasses? Magnificent. Squiggy forehead-pasted hair curl? Visibly oily? No notes. He’s gorgeous, can we blow him up to 300% and summon him to our bedroom for a three-way with Odin?
Enough foreplay. Everyone bought this book for one reason, it starts with “Dim” and ends with “Mak” and it ain’t a cat choking on a fishbone.
I promised you that by the end of this we would summon Satan himself to grant his dark boon to our death pinches, and I delivered. I actually didn’t promise that, because in my experience people tend to remove you from the work Slack if you promise that. But it was heavily implied this is where we’d end up.
Holy shit, you need to daisy chain a demon combo for like twenty minutes before you can unleash a single pinch with all the dark powers of hell. I already blew my Akuma reference for the month, so this is sort of like fighting Zangief in Street Fighter – if he’s in the corner hopping in circles for a half hour it’s kind of your fault if you walk into the spinning pile driver.
BUT BEWARE!
If you don’t finish this magic, all the devils of hell will fuck the holes left in your soul by lies and betrayal. If you’re served the wrong apps at Chili’s for the last time, you absolutely must finish this 20 minute roll call before destroying the waiter, or the devil will wear you as his condom. If anything happens to interrupt your full-afternoon lunatic’s dirge – if the waiter slaps you in the mouth, if the manager escorts you out to your mom’s Plymouth Cruiser, if you get a breakup text from your AI girlfriend while crying in a Plymouth Cruiser – you will not deliver an infernal death poke. For it is you who will be infernally poked until you are dea- ahh, you get it.
This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: AnAndy. AnAndy comes through the door. AnAndy visits the Red Lobster. The Red Lobster knows fear. AnAndy returns through the door.
A month ago I found a karate and ancient bird author named Eddie Vuittonet who lives on Vuittonet road on Vuittonet Ranch where he sells graphic design, rabbit meat, marketing, bicycles, and notary services. He also adapted a graphic novel from a CGI skeleton fighting movie he created, and it demonstrates what man can create when freed from the shackles of reason and education. Let’s shatter our mind against EDDIE VUITTONET’S EMERGENCY D. SQUAD ETAL: EXTORTION TERRORISM AND LAWLESSNESS PREMIERE ISSUE #1 (COLLECTORS EDITION (ADAPTED FROM THE MOVIE)).
This book, this perfect book, was published in 2023 by The Comic Syndrome Comic Group, a comic group started by famous comic group founder, Eddie Vuittonet. It’s basically GiJOE if everyone had the same uniform, personality, and abilities and COBRA was several blurry somethings in the distance. On the cover you can see one of the terrorists screaming “WE ALL DIE TODAY!” which might be the title, but is definitely a spoiler. Writing and illustrating this or any story is so far beyond Eddie Vuittonet’s means it will be difficult to explain. We will not understand what is happening because he did not. He uses the same production techniques, reasoning, and fonts as a troubled boy assembling his own pornography. Let’s meet the team!
The US Emergency Dispatch Squad (Critical Top Secret) is a mostly hot girl paramilitary group as imagined by someone who isn’t familiar with women or the military. Their Hunter Killer Team is made up of Jess, Ash, Frank, Gunny, and sorry about the record scratch you’re about to hear, but Jewdeath. They also have a Dagger Team featuring Frank, Ash, Jewdea– wait. I think Eddie Vuittonet got confused. It won’t be the last time. Speaking of, Go Fast 1 and Go Fast 2 make up their Ariel Attack Team, which is both a typo and a telegram group he started after Disney announced a black mermaid. The lady newscaster from News Crew is named Honey.
The page also shows every organization and sub-organization’s official family crest because there’s something you should know about the author…
He’s a crest man and a badge man. I mentioned earlier how Eddie runs a graphic design business out of his rabbit farm and notary, and you may have thought I was kidding. No, he makes custom merit badges and custom merit badges only. It’s not relevant to this comic, nothing could be, but it’s a great example of the kind of trap I fall in when I accidentally look into any aspect of Eddie Vuittonet. What a fascinating and impenetrable maniac, is my only point.
The story starts like a cutscene from a Gameboy Color adaptation of Lone Survivor. Hunter Killer Team Leader, Jess, is given orders to laser a herd. She is told to do this “Missionary style,” a military term Eddie Vuittonet invented which means not stopping to kill innocent people on the way. “I try not to kill anyone,” Jess acknowledges, Caveman style. I imagine you’re confused. This is a maze of Comic Sans and bold design decisions. To catch you up, there was a sentence of fine print before this explaining how ETAL, the terrorist organization, has turned Seattle, Washington, and New York into zombies to blackmail the government for money. Instead, the United States hired these eight people to kill the several terrorists and ten million zombies.
Jess calls in the airstrike, exploding the terrorists. She is delighted! I want to say this happens off panel, but I can’t be sure since you never quite know what you’re looking at in this comic. She is also elated, by the way. She is delighted and elated to kill, which the author calls “liberate,” but in a mistake way, not a satirical way. Eddie slides the Face Morph dial for Jess toward “Smile,” aging her forty years in the process.
Jes(s) is so excited about getting to blow up a town she starts spinning and shooting in every direction, killing all remaining anythings. Her commanding officer drives up in a “Humbee,” and he’s a gunnery sergeant because author Eddie Vuittonet has absolutely no fucking idea what’s going on. Gunny calls her a “got damn bitch,” partly because he’s upset about the war crime but mostly because no one ever calls her anything else. He also screams “What happened to one shot one kill? @#*#@”, a line from the movie Sniper about sniping, which Jess was not doing. It’s too much, I know. The important things to take away are:
1: Eddie hilariously describes everything the art should be, or very obviously is doing.
2: Eddie has issues with women, which is not what he calls them.
3: Eddie’s military knowledge is made up entirely of movies he sort of heard from inside a paper bag of spray paint.
Oh, great. Here comes Jewdeath. “Jewdeath” says an arrow pointing to Jewdeath, greeted by name and described over a caption that says “Jewdeath is on a 50 Caliber machine gun mounted on the Humbee.”
Jewdeath’s partner, who there wasn’t room to name, tells a terrorist firing an RPG, “Your leader is dead. I killed him.” The Middle Eastern man whose leader was just killed, Terrorist Leader, responds, “Estas Pendeja,” which both can’t be right and also can’t be right. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone this confused and I have a mother who uses Facebook.
Something about the situation resolves itself, and I have a theory there’s no point in trying to make sense of it. Let’s cut to the terrorist warning after party!
As far as I can tell, the team is given orders to get drunk at the Pentagon firing range, a place where they are definitely not. “Eat shit Jess!” says someone to Jess, naturally. “Bitch,” she replies. “Hey, you two bitches cut it out!” says someone else. “Get to work! LOCK AND LOAD #@!#” they add. This is a brilliant story being told exactly as the auteur intended– things are happening, bitch, suddenly and unrelated to previous things, bitch.
I don’t think there’s any way to find meaning in this. Predictive text wrote this after Mel Gibson fell asleep on his phone.
“I fucking have no fucking idea what’s going on or what the fuck is happening,” explains Jess as she recalls the events from the last page. Eddie, as an editor, jumps in here to help the reader understand. Not the plot, but the basic concept of thought bubbles. He adds a subtle red arrow pointing to an exploding human brain labeled MEMORY. Honestly, it’s a super useful tip. You can take this knowledge with you into most other comic books.
A woman named Madam, who is from both the CIA and the NSA, briefs the team on the 12 million zombies they are fighting. “There are over 12 million zombies,” she explains. Major Hannity, a “CIA News Historian,” then briefs her about the 12 million people acting a lot like zombies. It’s remarkable. This is something a dog would say to a frustrated scientist throwing another dog translator in the trash. Still, it’s nice to see a woman in this comic who isn’t immediately getting called “Bitch”. Great job, Eddie.
Damn it, Eddie. Actually, you know what? I’m still going to give this to him because if you remember from his word bubble tutorial, this man is only thinking “Bitch” at her. I’m not leaving anything out, by the way. Madam very politely shares all the zombie information she can at a scheduled meeting about sharing zombie information and that general, for no reason, decides “Bitch”.
I can’t be sure, but next the Hunter Killer Team sets out to destroy the zombies, probably.
They are all given “full armored biohazard suits” they are not trained to operate. Jess, maybe, asks how to take a crap in her suit and we learn everyone’s armor is equipped with an anal penetration button and a bidet. “Ha Ha Ha Ha” they say rather than “five thousand further questions.”
These are untested prototypes built by someone who decided pants should fuck you in the ass while you poop rather than include a butt flap, and Jess, very reasonably, suggests this is bullshit. You already know how her commanding officer reacts.
Seriously. You ruin everything, Jess. Now shut the #@*# up so we can get to this zombie killing action!
KA-BOOM!!, AHHAAGGG, say the explosions near distant man-like shapes wandering alone in various directions. The visuals… stunning! The explanations… helpful! It’s a masterpiece. It’s something you’d find in the trash of someone who died from being bad at every single thing. But it’s about to get awesome.
Fuck you if you don’t love this: when the zombies get killed, they explode into Skeletonzi warriors. They are double undeads! Or quadruple if you count how Eddie can’t even spell the words he invents and they sometimes turn into Skeletozi or Skeletoni warriors. Skeletoni! Like the answer to a popsicle stick asking what a grave robber has for lunch! I just love all of it so much.
So Eddie Vuittonet is a maniac, but he’s a deep country maniac, which means he has clearly defined politics. He is for America gun freedom, so he knows the only enemy more deadly than a terrorist zombie, who also turns into a skeleton when you kill it, is The Media.
The dumb stupid media, News Crew (see NEWS CREW badge on page 1 for their organization’s crest), are live on facebook, breaking the story of our heroes killing zombies and then skeletons. “Keep it up and your going dead on facebook!” says Gunny.
Eddie Vuittonet puts a period on this silliness by starting his next caption with a period. Dawn, labeled “Dawn,” drops down and kicks a jaywalker* to save a team member** from an ambush***!
* zombie
** unnamed
*** not shown
The killing continues! “Your dead meat!” screams Sam! “We did a great job!” thinks a different one! It’s hard to believe a single grown man was responsible for all this. If my daughter made this I’d tell her, “I’m not your therapist, you drunk first grader.”
Sam has some trouble with a particularly stuburn “Jaywalker,” shouting “Die! Die! Dam it!” from three different panels as if his frustration grew so great it became unanchored from time. “We’ll help explain what you’re supposed to be looking at,” say the captions and every other character. This comic is equal parts stroke, equal parts apology for the stroke.
Let’s check in with the got dam @#*#ing liberal media.
Joe the journalist and Honey the lady journalist are refusing to evacuate ground zero of the infectious zombie bioweapon site. The rescue commandos may not agree with Joe’s first amendment rights, but they have to respect them. Or, as the author puts it, “F#@k You!” Danner counters this with, “H-hey!” There’s a part of me that wishes I could tell you more, but you’re all caught up with Joe and Honey.
The kiling continues as Joe drives away. “Florence! Betty!” says the author. This is madness. This is something a drunk driver would tell his court-appointed hypnotist.
This is a crazy twist I should have seen coming. The team is taking orders from “X-President Trump.” This could mean anything from Trump gaining mutant powers to the author not knowing how to spell “ex” to a refusal to accept the results of the 2020 election. We don’t know, but the generous and capable X-President is willing to stop the zombie apocalypse by building a wall around Queens even if he has to shut down a building he owns in Manhattan. This is a haunted mirror maze of language and ideas, but yeah, it’s word-for-word what that guy would say.
Jess hears “Trump” and “wall” and decides to try for a joke. “Wow, the ‘Jaywalkers’ are illegal aliens?” she Lenos into the military briefing. The rest of the Hunter Killer team is so disappointed they can’t even bring themselves to call her Bitch. “You dummy!” says… maybe Danner? So anyway, now the small, elite squad of pants fucking soldiers are off to build a fifty mile wall.
Dagger Team finds a vehicle (maybe a moped?) and someone (not pictured) tells them to kick a door down to get it. “Ninjas do it.” they say. I don’t know if this means Dagger Team is now The Ninjas or if this is some kind of pep talk. Like the way you might say, “Beat-down that 935 lb. gorilla with yubiwaza; ninjas do it all the time.” Speaking of beat-downing a 935 lb. gorilla with yubiwaza, the graphic novel stops here for a third ad for the author’s karate book. It’s sort of a parody of the comic book ads on which his style of martial arts is based, and yet also very much not?
It shows you how to mimic the shape of a tiger jaw with your hand to more effectively destroy a throat! A topless woman in hot pants thanks YUBIWAZA for helping her kill two men! But we’re not going to get distracted. Let’s get back to the com– wait, what the shit am I looking at?
This must be what a cat sees when it watches you read a magazine. This is shapes and letters fighting their way out of a bucket. There’s no way to know for certain, but I am 80% sure their air support killed a school full of zombie children. Ash and Jess stand over their charred remains. Jess takes it all in, this grim and unthinkable landscape of child carcasses, and says, “Ha ha… Good riddance!”
You already know what Ash says back.
The author calls both women Bitches and then wonders to himself, “Wait a minute, do the kid zombies not turn into kid skeletons? Could this be a clue?” Maybe!
Joe and Honey, reporter and woman reporter, are doing their own investigation. They find a group of children eaten by “Jaywalkers” who also did not become skeletonzi! “Wait a minute, why aren’t the kids turning into Skeletoni warriors?” thinks the author again, who then finishes writing his comic without ever learning the answer. Was this meant to be the key to a cure? A plan he forgot to pay off? Some effort to appeal to Chinese comic distributors? Eddie Vuittonet doesn’t know. It’s just a fun piece of skeltozi lore. You can kill kid zombies without worrying about skeletons, and maybe I’m the weird one for wanting to know more.
Jess and Unnamed EDS Member With An Extra Half a Face find Joe and Honey, and in a fun twist on a classic, Jess calls someone else a bitch.
And then, since no one else was doing it, Jess calls herself a bitch. “SHIT,” adds her partner. And the two of them get to work shooting more child zombies.
“Come on, you guys, that’s not fair,” says Eddie Vuittonet’s divorce lawyer as this is entered into evidence.
Joe and Honey escape from the chaos to the Humbee, which if you look closely is…
… right over fucking there, bitches!!!!
This is getting really weird, but Joe and Honey come across some more dead children. “My God, they must have truly suffered,” says Honey. “BOY, HOWDY, THEY SURE AS FUCK DID!” agrees Joe.
Let me skip ahead and see if I can find something that isn’t child slaughter…
Nope…
No…
Okay, I think this might be adult murder:
Jess and her team are ambushed by E.xtortion T.errorism A.nd L.awlessness, and are possibly killed? The situation seems hopeless, maybe. It’s hard to tell. Then Jess sees the ETAL leader, alone. And unarmed, and facing the wrong way. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only shot she has.
It worked!
The rest of the terrorists pull up in an APC, but she reminds them of their one rule: when your leader dies you have to go home! You already know what they say to Jess.
It’s going to seem like I’m leaving something out, but I’m not. In the next panel they just leave. And Jess shoots them anyway.
“What the F*@*” says someone, and like I have been this whole time about everything, I agree.
“MACK GOING TO KILL” says an arrow pointing to Mack on his way to kill. “uuUUMmmmm” says a sound effect under it as if that got it confused about how sound effects are supposed to work. And then in glorious Comic Sans, an empty parking lot or maybe an office lobby announces “The ETAL captain is killed”. That means EDS, or The Ninjas, maybe Team Dagger, have now killed the ETAL leader and their captain! They’ve done it!
Wait, no, we’ve been executing too many infected children. We’ve forgotten that specifically non-child zombies turn into Skeletonzi and we have to kill them again.
Betty shoots Tyro, which might be a typo, but what’s this? “FIRST PLACE” says a winning ribbon over this caption written by a madman? Fuck this plot, fuck everything I’ve ever known. The only thing important to me right now is that the absolute lunatic writing this story about skeleton-like warriors, known as the skeletoni, might have given himself a little prize mid comic book! Amazing! AMAZING.
“What the Hell!” thinks Betty about a skeleton horde (not pictured) as the ETAL LEADER appears? The one who died? Twice? And isn’t a skeleton? Betty was right, What the Hell! For a lot of reasons. We are on page 71 of a 72 page graphic novel and we have made no progress on any enemy other than a twice killed elementary school. How is Eddie going to wrap this story up?
He isn’t! It’s a cliffhanger! The story ends like it began, with a clearly insane rabbit farmer disagreeing with himself about spelling and finishing up a weird merit badge in Canva. Why am I still typing? I don’t need to tell you how much this rules! This rules! Bye!
This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Dan B who, if killed by crotch shot or tainted meat, turns into a mighty Dan Beletonzi!
Categories
Punching Day: Street Survival
