
He smacks me into the TV stand to the point where I'm dizzy, so I throw out my legs and send him flying across the room. He slams into the wall and rolls to the ground. The little guy's down for a few seconds, then gets back up, shakes his head like a dog who has just been hit by a car, picks up his security blanket, and joins me back in front of the TV like nothing has happened. Whew! I said. I thought I had killed him. What's my point? Part of the whole Stooges mentality revolved around the fact that they could both give and take a bunch. I love them for that!
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