In a dojo where the air is thick and hazy,
Competitors gather, a sight quite crazy.
With belts of green and giggles galore,
Their moves are a dance, but it's less of a war.
“Prepare for battle!” the sensei proclaimed,
While his students just chuckled, “Is this even a game?”
They bounced on the mats, like rubbery beasts,
Unleashing their chops, with a giggly feast.
One took a stance—oh, the form was pristine,
Then toppled like paper, his balance unseen.
“Is this part of the art?” he pondered with glee,
As his opponent just laughed, “Dude, just let it be!”
A kick went awry—a wild, flailing swing,
Knocking over a potted plant, what chaos did bring!
The crowd roared in laughter, “Great job, now we’re stoned!”
As they cheered for the plant that they all had owned.
With munchies a’brewin’ and laughter unstopped,
Defeats came with comfort snacks joyfully dropped.
“Hey man, this round’s on me,” one fighter did cheer,
As he tossed out some chips—it’s the love that we hear.
So here’s to the fighters, with hearts full of cheer,
Where the kicks may be wobbly, but the spirits are clear.
In this strangest of tournaments, all friends we shall make,
For a high time in karate, there's no better break!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
