Well, I survived. That's good, but I don't know for sure how long will my luck last because I'm so lucky lately. First I got perfect car, then I got awesome pay raise and lastly I started to train martial arts under great master. I'm so lucky. As I was pondering about my awesome luck my master said:

- Let's start right away. First strap these spoons on your wrists and your legs. You will keep them on until I say that you can take them off.

The spoons looked like regular spoons but when he strapped them on my body I felt the weight. Every spoon was at least 10 kg and I could only move my body slowly. Shit, simple actions as making a sandwich or drinking glass of water have become extremely difficult. At this rate I will die from starvation. Well, if Son Goku could train with turtle shell then I should be able too, right? Right?

- How long will I have to keep them on?

- As long as you need. These spoons are special training spoons that will increase your muscle strength and get you accustomed to spoons weight distribution so when you use spoons as a weapon you won't be hindered by unbalance of the spoons, as a matter of fact, you will even harvest spoon momentum. For now you will come here every day at evening and learn theory behind way of the Spoon. If you learn enough you may even be enlightened and become Spoonbender, the mystical spoon warriors that are one with spoon and they can use SP to increase power of their attacks and preform miracles.

- SP, as Soul Points?

- No, Spoon Power. Soul Points don't exist, as Santa, Easter bunny or tooth fairy.

- Oh, that makes sense.

WTF? Spoon Power? Who would believe this lunatic that something as abnormal as Spoon Power exist!!?

- Also, leave your phone number that Machamp can pick you up for training.

-Sure.

It seams that my life is going down the drain. Oh well, nothing that I can do about this now, but I'm definitely putting you on my „No Delivery“ list. You all will pay when I rule the world (in deliveries).

As I was driving home I could barely keep up with weight on my leg. One loose moment of concentration and I would hit the drive pedal. At this rate I won't be able to drive my Ugly. Ahh, that is the reason why he asked for my contact number. Bastard knew that I wouldn't be able to drive it.

While I was so deep in my thoughts I barely noticed that incredibly pink car was following me. That pink color was so pink that it leaked around car and made asphalt and everything around it look pink. Must be some women or man-woman or pimp. Yes, stereotypes come handy to solve this mind bugging situations.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Suddenly, Pink put on rotation light and pulled me over. Can I have normal day for once in my life where I don't have to deliver spoon to spoon addict or be pulled over by overly womanly police?! I think that I drove under speed limit.

I put my door windshield down and waited for policeman to come. What came out of the car was incredible. It was man, but not any man. It was freaking „Dirty Harry“ Harry Callahan with Magnum in his holster. WTF?

- Hello there, registration and driving licence please.

- Yes, Officer Callahan, I mean yes Sir.

-Well „John Smith“, My name isn't Harry Callahan, even if I would want that, my wife wouldn't ever allowed it but enough of daily chat? Tell me, what did you do in restaurant owned by infamous Mischa the Spoon?

Whaaat? He has gangster nickname, kind of lame nickname, what 's going on around here?

- I am just a delivery boy, sir, and I was just delivering package to mister Mischa.

- Now, can you tell me what was in the package?

- Sir, that would be against our company policy.

When I said that he got his Magnum and pointed it at me.

- Kid, you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?'. Well, do ya, punk?

Shit, he got too much in the role. I may lose my life if I don't comply with his demands.

- Sorry sir, please don't shoot me. I delivered some spoons.

His face suddenly lost color. What is so scary about some spoons?

- Shit, how many spoons?

- 500 spoons, sir.

- Fuck, he is serious. Your face looks like you don't get what's going on. Mischa the Spoon is preparing for war against his archenemy Vittorio the Fork, Italian restaurant owner, and we can't do anything against him. Streets will be drowned in blood.

As he said it he returned my documents, went to his car and started shouting on police radio. I couldn't hear him but I think that he called backup and increased patrols. After that he drove away.

I also started car and continued my drive home. What a mess. How did I got myself in this shitty situation...

After parking the Ugly I dropped dead tired on my bed. I really wish that I can sleep and forget this mess but my brain didn't stop working. I hope that I wouldn't have any nasty surprises in school this afternoon.

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Ok, he got home relatively safely. Now for the fun school life........ not :)