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A Small Party Fight

"Did the DJ stop the music and all the dancers would return to your seat?" said the Master of Ceremonies (MC), a man of heavy weight. He made the announcement as he stood in a small room between seven parents placed behind a high table and a disco floor.

Although the trembling man spoke in his voice, he could not cope with the sound of the continuous music boom-boom. Some of the dancers who heard the announcement made no sense and instead continued to swing with their friends.

Less than two minutes after the first warning, the voice resurfaced and said in a more impatient tone, "Did the DJ stop the music, and all the feet dance back to their seats?" That the dancers did not stop dancing and returned to their seats made the man with a microphone doubt his credibility. Well, he reasoned, who would blame them for staying on the dance floor while the music was playing? It was the DJ, not the dancer, who should have suffered a rebellion of people not returning to their seats.

Suddenly it occurred to the big man that there was a possibility that the DJ had good reason to not listen to his order, even though he was giving it loud and clear. He wanted to believe it was true, but in his second thought he concluded that a good DJ should be on guard for instructions from the master at the ceremony at all times. By protocol standards, a DJ who disobeys orders from the MC violates the party's basic rules and must suffer the consequences.

Although the DJ wore a headphone in his ear, he listened to orders to stop music - but he would do it himself. No DJ worth paying for them will suddenly stop dancers in the middle of their moves. In addition, the DJ hated the way the MC was trying to get him in front of the audience. If they were on the field, where no one was looking, he would knock the MC on the top of his head. However, for the sake of peace, he began to roll the music, the first time the MC gave the order.

"Not fast enough," the man with a microphone swore, and once again alerted his nose to the DJ to stop the music immediately. Currently, half of the dancers have left the dance floor, but the rest want to wait until the music is over. Their desire caused unnecessary delays, which in turn made the man angry with the microphone, and he made sharp steps with his hands across his neck, signaling that the DJ must stop the music immediately.

People can feel the disconnect between the MC and the DJ, but only half of the audience, who mostly like it, guess the details of the problem between the two. Many people who do not dance do not care whether the DJ continues to use music. Some of the DJ's rooted audience have the advantage of dealing with heavy men with microphones.

Each dancer cleared the disco floor and sat down when the music finally stopped. In their place, walking on the floor was a man with a microphone. Once the audience has seen the full numbers, they rate it by what they see. Most of its weight starts from the belly button and spreads to the waist. She is short-haired by six feet. Red hat with rabbit tail covers half of his head.

Three times he cleared his throat. "For those who don't know, my name is Ferdinand, but I don't mind if you call me Fred." Then he became aware of his large stomach and gave him the secret of friendship. "I stand before you," he said, "because I want every word I say tonight and on this occasion stand in the truth like a bamboo tree."

"Why bother him to clear your voice when you finally speak croaky?" a man in the back of the ball room near the kitchen whispered to another man, wearing a green hat on his right shoulder. The man with the microphone stared at the commentator and his neighbor seemed to hear the comments made against him, but it was just a coincidence that he continued.

"Let's start with a round of applause for the chairman of the council." As he said, he saw the presence of seven old men behind the high table, half of them on each side of the Chairman, who, based on gray eyebrows, was the oldest among his friends.

Pointing to the men at the high table, one by one, the MC said, "My achievements, these achievements, are the result of mastery of wisdom, proverb and intelligence, all combined with a degree of courage and cruelty. Success, my friends, was born from a marriage between brain and phrase. "

He gave her a second of applause, but nothing came until she changed her gear. When confronted with the audience, he said, "When I married my wife, I brought five cows with me and I was ready to pay more in the dowry if my father in law wanted me, but he didn't. and according to the plan, my wife, Oriakum (who ate the produce I brought) "- here she pointed towards a woman with a long scarf -" gave me three sons, one boy each year, and then Oriakum followed her. with twin daughters, one with the name --- ".

As the man using the microphone spoke, a short man in the audience stood and crawled toward him, one at a long table. Some viewers were wondering what he would do. Maybe he wanted to talk after the guy used the microphone. "This party can be a speech party, where everyone will talk about how successful and rich they have become," said the neighbor, who made an intriguing statement about the MC's cynical voice.

Since he started talking, the MC has had no applause from the audience, and that bothers the man with the microphone more than the insults he puts into DJ's hands. He expects the audience to hit every time he makes eyes, but they don't. This audience failed to give her credit, and she wouldn't stop talking until they did. To resume dancing, they must first clap. Some viewers are average, and some of them that night are such examples. As more and more applause came, he said to himself, and he began to expand on what he had said before, unaware that a man was approaching him, not to hug him but to face him.

If the short guy made his point clear, the guy with the microphone would step out of it, because even though he was big he didn't look like a guy who wanted trouble, at least not in the eyes of the audience. On the other hand, the shorter man is the one who is at war with his character; but that night, his argument was not necessarily because he was too short to propose his personality, but because he also had something important to say, and he did not like how the higher beings dominated the microphone. What's more, he hates the way the master of the house interrupts the music and sends the dancers to their seats, without the constant challenge of the DJ, who he thinks has absolute rights to how music ends, especially when the audience is on the dance floor.

When the man with the microphone realizes that the shorter man is aiming for the microphone, he says to the intruder, "Are we fighting over a piece of ground, which you take for yourself to distract me from what I have to say?" who has a microphone higher and bigger than a man wants to take his place, and since most of his weight is concentrated around his stomach, he can easily harm other men by falling on it on the disco platform, just as children can squeeze ants with his feet on sandy soil.

What struck, he said to himself. An ambush, which can make a brave person useless. Some options came to him. Whatever action he chooses to address the situation, it must be simple and successful. He fought to win as well as his image to protect. The protracted struggle does not go unnoticed by the image he paints for his audience. It is best for him to start the struggle, and be given a speech later. However, people do not always choose the way to find them. The shorter man walking towards him looking for trouble, he concluded. Just because he stopped music. As the host of the appointed council, he has the right to interrupt music and give speeches as he pleases.

Part of the blame lies with the audience. If they clapped, he would end the speech and sign the dancers back. Some people he knows will clap their hands if they really hear his message. Where are they? Where is the silent majority in any group? Until they hear him and show their applause, he must continue to make a point.

Vulnerability occurs when a man is in deep thought and that's what happens to a heavy man. Out of the blue, the short man jumped up and grabbed the microphone, forcing the heavy man's upper body to curl around his waist, like a tree branch cut down by hundreds of pieces. In severe pain, the fat man was supposed to throw a short man, along with a microphone, across the dance floor.

But, realizing that the short guy was going to end up with a microphone, he abandoned the plan. Instead, recovering from his crooked position, using a microphone as a lever, he lifts the short man into the air, past the candle that is placed high in the ballroom, almost to the ceiling. He planned to walk between the tables, to bring the little boy back to his seat, and he did not mind letting her down in the chair.

When transported to the air, it occurred to a short person that speed was the only advantage he had over his larger enemies, and he made up his mind how to use it. Release the microphone, with the proper control he lands on his feet.

Because he had time to think about his actions, it didn't take him a while to start hitting with both of his men's boxing punches with a microphone. Softly, like a pillow, he smiles as he punishes the bigger enemy. At first the shaking man did not want to release the device, which to him was the probable cause of the disagreement; but later, as he received more punishment from the little demon, he threw a microphone on the man's head on a high table, and it hit the wall behind and fell to the ground.

Not surprisingly, the little guy didn't make the device for the device. If talking is what the attacker is doing, why doesn't he go after the microphone, ask the MC? As he contemplated how to respond to the attack, he sought out a short man, who, in his confusion, had gone between his legs, only to torture him. From the back, he felt a pull on his waist but enough discipline to ignore it. Because the short guy knows that, unlike him, the guy has the image to protect and appreciate, he has no problem attacking his opponent.

"Remember this," the short man said to the larger MC as he wore a folded shirt to pin his unsold waist. Speaking to the public, the MC persisted. Other than the seven old men behind the high table, and the DJ, no one paid attention to the fight. To further blur his vision, the DJ found a button on the wall next to his leg which dimmed the light in the ball room. He also restarted the music and turned it into a powerful one. "Let the music play," by Shannon, is now playing.

"Good music choice," the chair told the man to his right. Suspicious because of the breakdown of the speech and the resumption of music, no one stepped in to dance, and no one spoke. It's late at midnight. People are starting to get out of the hall. Soon, the party was over.


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