My experience fighting guys like Shawn and Damon, put me in good stead when I introduced it during my stay in Fort Wayne, Indiana. The first three months there I didnít have a whole lot of friends, so I spent my time putting together about thirty weapons and practicing with them; the flail, the broadsword, the longsword. I got about twenty adults together at a Halloween bash, and we headed out into this eighty acre corn field that was nearby. Some guy grew the corn for his pigs or something like that and was kind enough to let us trample a few stalks.

It was a free for all and the object of the game was to reach the center of the field, grab the flag and make it out the front end of the field near the barn. I had only constructed one shield, and I reserved it for myself. Some people might call that cheating but I prefer to call it preparation. I also chose a long, light-weight sword.

It was a great moment for me. I stalked through the field of corn, defeating everyone that I met. I got to the center of the field in time to see someone making off with the flag. Moving quickly, I managed to intercept and kill him, taking possession of the flag. Between the cornfield and the barn was a fence and an open gate. Four big guys had decided to take the tactic of waiting for someone to emerge with the flag and take it from them.

The advantage to fighting inexperienced players is that they donít really have the skills down, and sometimes they donít really even understand the basic technique. I went through all four of them in about forty seconds, knocking the sword clean out of the hands of one attacker and taking the feet out from beneath another. They regained their feet in a bewildered daze while I walked out with the flag.

Occasionally, I have moments where I amaze myself. Those were generally moments when I didnít accept my own limitations and dared to go beyond them. This was one moment where my daring let to startling victory. Who would think that a skinny punk with cystic fibrosis could take out ten healthy men.

Of course, pushing the limits has its dangers. One time I decided to go weightlifting with Max. I ended up rupturing a blood vessel in my chest. A pocket of blood the size of a fist formed below my skin, before the hemorrhaging stopped.

If sometimes my body kept me from physically performing something, then I concentrated on presenting the image of someone who was capable of doing it. Image is at least half the battle, and I experimented with my look. My hair experienced a half dozen different formats; spiked Billy Idol style, shoulder length with flat top, mohawk, shaved to the center of my skull- like a monk- and long in back. My ears were pierced four or five times and I could vary the amount and style of earrings that I wore. Most of the time my look alone, would keep people from messing with meÖand when it didnít Iíd rely on one of my big friends to run interference. When one of my big friends wasnít around Iíd take my chances.

In one of my more unusual phases, I fell in with a group of people who appreciated my bizarre looks and sometimes bizarre talents. The Rocky Horror Picture Show is an excuse for freaks and perverts of all stripes to come together curse, throw things, and generally let go of their inhibitions. Anytime that you can go into a crowded movie theatre and it is acceptable to yell obscenities at the top of your lungs, and act extremely obnoxious; well, Iím into that.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show was a 1970ís theatrical flop; a movie musical that so bad that it is good. Somehow, the movie gained a cult following and many theatres still show it weekly, so