Tormenta de Tonfa (Solo)

[Zandelia]

Fall 53rd, AV 511


The time had come for Zandelia to begin a practise that she had not taken up for perhaps nigh on a year now, though it had been with much regret. Her skills had atrophied of late, whittling away to barely a fraction of what they had used to be. She thought not of intelligence or of investigation and manipulation when she finally accepted that father time had caught up with her – despite her new fleet of foot nature. No, it was of weaponry and direct violence that she mused, her mind turning it over in her skull and wondering if she had subconsciously pushed it away, time and again, as something not truly necessary in her lifestyle. It was a difficult thing to bring to bare for her, she knew, the training of her chief choice of damage dealing. In many ways it brought back memories best left buried, of times that were the darkest in her brief existence upon the world. After all, she had first been introduced to the tonfa by a guard of her master – at first merely giving a young girl an outlet to vent her furies, but over time only martialing out his knowledge for favours of his own.

The bastard that he was too she thought to herself as she sat upon her bedrolls, the small pieces of furniture entombed within the canvas mausoleum of her life pushed to the very walls of the flimsy structure, creating a large empty space in the centre of her abode.

She held her two cold iron batons in her hands, their tubular shapes seeming to generate a chill from their very cores, numbing her fingers as her remaining emerald green orb swept along their lengths – noting the new dents and gouges from recent skirmishes within the alleyways of Sunberth, one of the more dangerous places in all the lands she would not doubt. The torch light reflected their dull colour into her eye, the light curiously dulled further by their surfaces. She was wasting time she knew, procrastinating as much as she could before guilt forced her to begin her tasks. Still, she took the times to stroke her fingers across their cylinders, feeling out the rougher handles, and where their grips met baton how the roughness almost seemed to melt away into nothingness. She sighed to herself, breathing deeply before heaving it out fast enough to done her cheeks with the pressure.

“Well Zandelia, time has finally taught us a lesson. You can out off something only so long before it’s made apparent you ignore it at your peril” she muttered to herself, becoming conscious of the cut across her upper left arm where her deteriorated skills had almost cost her, her life, two days previously. It was not a deep wound, but telling enough to set her upon the correct path once more.

She wore nothing in her inner sanctum, her curved form completely naked except for the bandage upon her arm. It was not out of a lack of modesty but more for a sense of meditative focus that she had removed her clothing. She had always trained best without restriction upon her, or between her and the world. To be her best she had to feel free of all ties and bonds, something she supposed a wise person might note reflected her past bondage. She had begun her initiation into weaponry as a form of controlled freedom after all and perhaps, after a fashion, she was still fighting a battle to be free – though not it was from her own past. She tried to banish the spectres as she pushed herself to her feet, stepping forwards lightly, each carefully placed footstep taking her in a spiral around her tent, towards the very centre where the support pole was rammed heftily into the ground. It was a slow shifting of both body and mindset, banishing her daily cares one by one until only three things remained within her world – herself, her tent and her weapons.

The torch light played across her lithe form, illuminating and shadowing her at the same time as it caressed her skin, smooth as it was for the most part with only a few scars upon her back and rump from times she had left behind long ago. She stretched her neck from side to side, closing her eyes as she rolled her head and shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to shift away the tension that had built within her muscles in her tense wait. Her eyes opened then and she flicked her tonfa into the air casually, using the spinning motion to bring the handles around towards her so that she could snatch them out of the air and squeeze the grips there, her knuckles cracking slightly as she shifted the lengths of the baton down her forearm and stood for but a few moments, her arms set out diagonally from her waist, the ends of her weapons poking past her elbows by perhaps the width of a palm.

“Time to begin” she breathed, letting her mind melt back into the days gone by, hearing the words barked at her by the man whom had turned out to be both her saviour and her betrayer.

Focus…focuuuus! And one- she imagined in her mind as her tent became a training courtyard and she began to dance the steps of the dance.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia kept her breathing to an intrinsic rhythm, setting the beat almost for what she was doing with her limbs and the tonfa, their veritable extensions. Two seconds in and two out were her breaths, her chest and bust heaving slowly back and forth as if a tide were ebbing and flowing at her whims. It was a dance after all, her practising, her imagination more substantial than the invisible opponents that she would be fending off in the coming struggles within the tent. She stepped forwards a few times, left foot followed by right, her footsteps slow and light, loosening their movements for the true training that lay ahead. Ultimately, when wielding tonfa, the fight was more a mental one than a physical one – the weapons not really being capable of killing except in exceptional circumstances. They were injuring tools, pressure to a point, achieving unconsciousness more often than true death upon enemies, As such they were about speed rather than strength and it was difficult to generate enough speed with them without using their form to their best advantage.

Always remember when wielding tonfa that your enemy will have the advantage of brutality, but you will have the advantage of subtlety. Few give them the merit they deserve and you can use that to assail them before they know even what is happening to them came the remembered words as she began to twirl the weapons in lazy circles.

She began by rotating her wrists, loosening her grip ever so slightly, to start the cycles of movement of the batons round the outside of her forearms, both weapons spinning in time with each other, pivoting around the outside of her fists and increasing in speed until they seemed to be complete circles as if shields were indeed being gripped in each hand. It was a warm up but one that was necessary as it helped to set the rhythm of use for the tonfa, heating the grips enough to bring a slight sheen of sweat to her palms that only served to partially lubricate and improve her motions. She brought the around in a last series of five circles as she continued to step casually around the open space within her tent, eventually bringing hem around one last time until they were now crossed above her head – the trunk portion of the tonfa extending perhaps two feet from her hand as the solid metallic thunk of the two meeting in a standard overhead block resonating in the silence.

Blocking is only possible in select positions with these types of weapon, their forms lending themselves to deflection more than solid stopping of assaults. For this you need both precision and swiftness, in both footwork and weapon movement. Always remember than with tonfa, if you stop you die. Bloody hammer that into your skull lass! the voice of time echoed within her partially meditative state.

She began now to shift into a more realistically combat orientated method of movement, using first one weapon and then the other, motion in halves rather than wholes – leading with her stronger right arm and following through with her weaker left side. Wielding two weapons at once was impossible when you tried to do so, realising quickly that those who successfully use two tools at a time really only use one at a time, merely cutting the time in between each usage to such a miniscule period as to be almost unnoticeable. Thus it was that she brought her arms down to her sides once more, flicking the tonfa so they were lined up with her forearms once more. Then the real wielding began, the warm up now mostly over.

“One by one, flick by flick, but the illusion of cohesion is there, and it occupies an opponents mind” she whispered to herself in the torch light.

She led with her right arm, bringing it across her body in a rounded motion, as if performing a right hook to a man’s mouth but at the same time flicking the tonfa outwards and twirling it so that it moved more or less freely with her arm, creating a blur before her that acted as a shield – more of a distraction tactic than a true attack but one that was a powerful link between attacks, parries and blocks. The tonfa was a kinetic weapon, needing to be moving constantly to build up its power, and as she withdrew her right arm and let fly with her left – repeating the motions – it created a rapidly moving wall between herself and the rest of the world. It was a figure-eight movement with her arms really, one beginning, ending and then being replaced by the other. At times she added a flourish that caused a tonfa to flick outwards, as if tapping aside an incoming probing attack, but for the most part she merely kept the motion going.

As she did so she walked around in a circle, at first forwards and then backwards. It was an important part of the build up to the actual series of strikes, parries and blocks she would soon complete, hammering home the duality of torso and leg motion. It was sometimes difficult enough to concentrate on just using both of her tonfa in time correctly, let alone keeping her footwork correct too. By incorporating it gradually into the build up she was subconsciously preparing her mind to do the footwork almost instinctively.

Remember motion, speed and diversion. Never get into a pitched battle if you don’t need to. Always end a conflict as quickly as possible and never strike first – always strike second. That way it is the enemy left open, not yourself came the voice once more as she completed her circuit around the central tent pole now, tonfa still spinning in the standard figure eight that was the basis of most tonfa wielding that she knew.

[Zandelia]

She came to a stop after the final circling of her tent, the last few swings and flicks of the tonfa, their movements carefully co-ordinated so as to look as smooth and uniform as possible to the outside observer. To Zandelia’s eye there were any number of inaccuracies, slip ups and marginal errors – however she was not too hard on herself in this particular drill. She did not expect to be perfect, her memory translating into physical action as fluidly as water running down a hillside. No, as she halted, her tonfa thudding into the tops of her forearm now, making their shafts rest upon the top of her bent elbows as she shifted her feet into a defensive stance. Her left foot was slightly forwards, her right foot back, and her knees were bent enough to provide a more stable platform with a lower centre of gravity – an important point to note when wielding weapons based more upon speed and agility then strength and staying power. She took yet another deep breath, her muscles now fully relaxed and warm, blood jumping through them at a higher rate than normal.

I am ready, now or never Zandelia. Now, or never she mentally nudged herself once more, making sure her full focus was upon the task at hand, despite the past strongly wishing to intrude into her skull. She brought her left arm up diagonally in front of her forwards-facing body, the tonfa ready to be a block to attacks. The right arm was cradled around her waist, ready to strike back and step into the assault – two disparate jobs for the exact same weapon.

“One!” she spoke out loud, issuing the command for the first move in the chain she would repeat again and again for the next small portion of her training.

That was the signal to bring her left tonfa up and to the side of her body, the shaft protecting her arm as it took the impact from a horizontal slashing movement in her mind, the tonfa then being pushed away from her body with a heave and spinning around in a circle as if to finally deflect and push away the imaginary assailant’s blade. It was a simple move, the basic beginnings of all blocks and parries made with the tonfa. It was incapable of ever fully taking solid blows several times in a row, as such needing to bat away an attack after the first one had landed – buying much needed time to disable the opponent before they could recover their guarded defences. The intrinsic need led into the second movement in the chain.

“Two!” she grunted, this time twisting her body around so that now her right foot was the forwards one.

This was Zandelia’s attacking motion, stepping delicately into the heart of her adversaries defences, behind his guard line and well and truly able to leave the opponent at her mercy. Of course, real battle was never that simple, but training was about providing the basics with which you could improvise more than flashy heroics. She was now leaning forwards, her left tonfa out to her side as her arm mimicked the position it took before it would land a jabbing punch, a set u for later movements as she flashed out her right tonfa, brought around now to flick out from her wrist. The shaft portion flashed outwards, the grip rotating smoothly within her palm, to strike the ribs of her spectral nemesis. The attack was done with as much force as possible, the tonfa stopping in the stretched out position, all in all extending her ‘reach’ by almost two feet perhaps.

Disabling moves, always disabling moves. Hit them where they will hurt most. Remember the short ribs, the ones not connected to the whole ribcage. Delicate they are, snapping and cracking them is easy. Always a better target than things like the neck as its easier to hit came the echoes from years gone by, still intruding at key points with their wisdom.

“Three!” she hissed, this time aware that it was another attacking motion she would be taking part in.

This time the setting up of the jabbing position for her left arm and its use was made apparent to the world in general, though no spectators were present to see the naked dance Zandelia undertook. She stepped forwards once more, her opponent having taken a step back fro the strike to their ribs, or at least supposedly having done so, and placed her left foot forwards and to the right, a diagonal movement that would serve to be the launching platform for a strong left punch to the sternum, the tip of the tonfa’s hand guard protruding past her knuckles and causing most of the damage. This was a mere linking attack, a follow through to the torso region that would further disable her enemy and make it possible to land the next three decisive, and finishing blows. As she acted out the motions her memories stirred and her awkwardness began to gradually dissipate.

“Four!” she barked, pirouetting on the spot so that she was facing away from her staggering opponent now, but still in their defences. This was a simple blocking move with her right tonfa, in the same manner as her first block had been. It was meant to block the arm of the attacker though, rather than the weapon, as a preventative measure against a last ditch effort to strike back at herself. Short and quick it was, a solid side block smashed into the limb, numbing it if she was lucky enough.

Always make sure that when you are inside the enemies guard that you keep their weapons unusable. Attacking the limbs, block pre-emptively. Anything you can do to hinder their fight back, whilst launching you own series of attacks, is useful the voice stated one again inside her head.

“Five and Six!” came the last two attack in quick succession. This was due to the spinning nature of them, twisting in a circle to her right, carrying the momentum of the initial turn through fully to its ending – and bringing both shafts of her tonfa to crack into the head and/or face of her opponent, who would now rapidly be approaching unconsciousness. Her ending position, after returning from the swinging attacks, was to have both tonfa forming a cross in front of her body, closing off her torso from assault and ready to launch back into the figure-eight spinning motions she had been practising before in her warming up. Her feet were level now, shoulder width apart and on the balls of the feet, ready to move into action fluidly once again.

Her breath came ragged after the series of movements, sharp and quick as they had been. Breathing had been key now, she remembered, breathing in between motions and out during them. She had forgotten and was now trying to regain oxygen. Still, that did not prevent the smile from gracing her lips as she celebrated success. She took a few moments before returning to the starting stances and beginning the series of movements once more. They had been singular in nature and unrealistic. Now that they were set in her mind came the gluing of them together – the learning of fluidity of motion, of moving both weapons at the same time, and in their correct manner, as she duel wielded her enemies to the ground time and time again. After about half a bell she was dancing around the tent in a circle, not even stopping in between full sets of all six movements and instead flowing into felling her next opponent.

Never before have my movements with two tonfa been as fluid, as well achieved. I’ll bloody improve if I have to force myself to she thought to herself as she continued her rehearsed motions for another ten minutes or so before stopping and taking the time to drink some water.

“What next then?” she whispered to herself as she became aware of the sweat staining her naked body and the cool chill of approaching evening upon the air.

[Zandelia]

“Back to basics Zandelia, that’s where we go now. Back to the very beginning in order to rekindle what has become rusty, to shine it up into its true and deadliest form” she told herself, nodding to nothing in particular as she felt the sweat cooling across her entire body.

The tonfa were disabling weapons, this she had learnt long ago and begun to remember to its fullest potential this evening, recalling more than the physical memories locked within her muscles from drill after gruelling drill, knowledge not having faded too much with time in that respect. She was also recalling the words, the experiences and the teachings of men whom were now dead. Their wisdom lived on now only through herself, their teachings defunct but for what lay locked within her mind and past. It was an incredible responsibility to hold true to herself, but one she would keep kindled if only as a memory to what she had suffered and gained in her lifetime. She would continue to learn, to practise and to hone her skills in their memory, the memories of love and compassion that were held dear before the men themselves had become twisted by their vices.

Remember, there are three parts to the Tonfa lass, three ways in which you can hurt or incapacitate. You have the head, sometimes called the fist guard, which can be used for punching. You have the body of the tonfa which is used to swing and hit your enemy. Lastly you have the butt, the butt being used much like the head only with more reach and versatility – it allows for elbowing movements also. Let’s see you now then! the guardsman’s voice echoed to her from across the years, unlocked within her mind and unfolding rapidly.

First she set about practising the punches, simple things but deadly derivations that were numerous in nature could be built off of them. She had used one in the little dance before, hammering it into an imaginary solar plexus – a killing blow to some people of weaker constitutions, if done correctly. She remembered that power with the tonfa came from three basic movements too, or rotations to be more precise. The rotation of the hips, wrist and arm, when combined together the whole being far more powerful than the separate parts. She stood now, her arms at her sides and forearms parallel to the floor, the metal shaft of her tonfa on the bottom of her forearms and ready to lash out. They were equally level, the power coming not from circular movement in this attack form but in thrust. She stepped forwards, her right leg firstly, and twisted her hips to the left as she made a controlled flick of her shoulder and arm forwards to create a straight jab that was aimed for an assailant’s stomach. It was powerful, quick and easy to achieve – simplicity being more effective than complexity in many conflicts. She stepped forwards once more, this time powering her left foot forwards and repeating the jabbing motion with her left arm.

“One! Two!” she repeated time and time again as she set about keeping up the motions until she felt she could achieve the attack in her sleep as well as awake. Only then did she move onwards to the next basic attacking motion.

The swing is simple yet effective, powerful in its rotation around the wrist, the delicate lashing out that few ever expect and none ever forget. It is much quicker than a sword and twice as fast as a dagger in many cases. That means that by the time you opponent has decided what to do with themselves you have already left them upon the ground. The form that is used to build all such short swings is demonstrated thusly… she recalled, smiling at the memory now.

She took up her positioning once again, letting her stance settle into a relaxed one, feet shoulders width apart and tonfa held gently at her sides. This movement was a sort one, but deadly. She took a breath to focus herself before letting cold iron flash in the torch light. Her right arm flashed out, straight upwards from its starting position, her tonfa perpendicular to the floor of her abode. The kinetic movement, accompanied by her loose grip meant that when she stopped her arm in front of her head, letting her wrist take control of the motion and transferring it into her weapons, that the tonfa span in a rapid circle, arcing towards her at first before being halted and with a roll of the wrist caused to circle forwards, bringing her arm back down again as it did so. In that manner she had managed to get in two solid short hits in one single movement. She repeated the motions with her left arm before setting about rotating them both, then beginning one as the other was in its downwards motion, effectively meaning she was suing both in constant streams of quick attacks- a method she would need to improve for future conflict, she knew.

“Two attacks for the cost of one in terms of energy and one unconscious opponent. Not a bad deal for a Sunberthian, many would settle for less” she muttered to herself as she halted her practise of short, sharp attacks after a long while of continued practise, taking a small break to drink a potion of water from her flask upon the bed. There was only one other type pf basic attack left to do – the full swing.

The full swing is a longer movement lass, but far more powerful. You should really only use it in conjunction with other attacks and blocks as it them fits into a seamless series of motions rather than standing alone. That is important as it is also easy to predict by any with martial training beyond a pig. Remember, you practise it alone for now, but never damned well use it alone came the words, all but bidding her to soldier on through her training.

The full swing was not so much hard as it was time consuming and illogical to use in a singular context. It was uncomfortable to practise alone, but it was necessary to do so before combining it with other things, essential to know the technique properly first. If one did not then it would break apart the tonfa motions, leaving a gap in the links of attack and block. That was a deadly mistake to make, and she had seen it for herself – exploited it herself all those years ago now. Her stance was the same, only this time she brought her tonfa around in a wide circle, moving from the shoulder in a diagonal strike across her body, first coming over and downwards before, as with all tonfa movements, reversing and coming over from her left side and down before settling back at her right side once more. It was a singular figure-eight and one she had practised already but saw the price of not repeating now. She then repeated the motion with her left arm, generating the movements and linking it together with the start of another attack from her right side. Her hips, and thus her entire torso, were used to generate the force behind the movements, leaving the reversal of the attack to a flick of the wrist – which added further power.

For a long while she stood in the same place, creating the endless figure-eight of motion – both weapons moving at the same time and never clashing in their flights, a feat not even her mentors had been flexible enough to do and had been surprised at her fast pace of learning. It had, after all, led to their deaths. She eventually brought it to a gradual halt, however, and set about moving on with relearning her basics and linking them together once again.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia knew that the logical progression for the next, and last, part of her evening’s training regime was to go over the various types of blocking motion she had stored away in her memories. She stood for a while, at first not recalling more than the simplest form which was useful in only one direction. However, after a few sips from her water flask and some intense remembrance she found her mind drifting back to that first day she had been introduced to the tonfa as weapons, the days she had been given a way to cope with her situation at the time. She could remember the joy with which she had taken to them, their simple yet elegant shapes light enough for her young body and its low strength threshold. What came drifting back with those memories, however, was more useful to her at present – knowledge of three other types of blocking motion and the principles behind them.

“Tell me mentor, tell me the principles…” she whispered as she had done much louder many years ago, kindling the fires of her knowledge lain dormant.

The tonfa is a strong weapon when being moved around but not so much when stationary. Thus blocking is a problem for you. Most of the strength comes from your own body, which is why you must build it up, but we will do that alter. For now I tell you that it is better to deflect attacks, or guide them away from your body, than it is to try and stop them dead. Swords are heavy things to bear the brunt of an you aren’t strong enough lass came the voice of the grizzled guard as Zandelia took up her position in a shoulder’s width stance once again, feet level and arms at her sides, elbows slightly bent in a small cradling position.

“One” she intoned firmly as she began to practice the first blocking motion.

She thrust her left leg forwards in a normal walking motion’s distance and bent both of her knees slightly as if in anticipation of taking upon them an impact hit, for balance and for absorbing an attack’s power. As she did that her body remained facing directly forwards and her left arm came upwards in front of her body, at the same time her right arm tucked in to allow the room for her left arm’s upwards movement and came to rest at her hip in a full cradle shape. Her left arm ended in a diagonal position, the tonfa along her arm always facing towards her opponent and protecting her body. The place where the block would hit the tonfa would normally be where her wrist was, thus diverting any attack’s force to the side and along the shaft of the tonfa itself, away from her body and vitals.

It is a good move to do against both vertical chopping attacks and thrusts to the body, as well as diagonal chopping attacks too. It can be used to push a blade upwards, or absorb an impact, and in both cases like the rain water upon a roof the attacks are directed to your side. This both protects yourself and leave them open to a counter attack. Now, keep going lass came the voice again, explaining the details she had forgotten.

She repeated the motion of the block with her right arm this time, stepping forwards again. She kept the same form, only this time had to pay particular care to bring her left arm inside of her right one so that the block was correct, tonfa switching at the half way point, meeting and then alternating which one protected her body. Again, the ending point was the same and she performed it from memory exactly as she had been taught. The reversing of one side of her body, coupled with the commencement of the other side was a difficult process at times and over the next series of tries she caught her elbows upon the tonfa, or indeed the tonfa clashed with each other, several times. She persevered, however, and kept up the series of repetitions until she had managed to at least move at a slow pace and use both weapons in unison. Further practice, she knew, would improve her speed of use.

“Two” she stated once she had moved on to the second block she had remembered, this one a downwards block meant to deflect and drive away attacks either to her legs or attacks that used her legs as starting point before moving upwards in their assault.

Her form was much like the upwards blocking motion, except this time instead of bringing her left arm upwards in her initial block she brought it across her body to the right a little before chopping downwards to her left side to deflect the imaginary blow. Her body was stepping forwards again, this time used as a method of both generating force behind the block and stepping into an enemies guard area, her knees bent and feet just over shoulder’s width apart. Her left arm was down and to her left, the tonfa lining up with the outside of her arm and her hand just above, and to the left of, her knee. It was a simple affair, but one that would save her legs in their times of peril. The switching was more complex this time as she shifted her right foot forwards, the tonfa having to actually cross her body fully, momentarily forming an x-shape that was the base of another type of block, before her right and now forwards arm chopped downwards and to her right side.

It is a clever way of switching that I developed, better than the standard drawing of the hand back to its starting hip lass. It offers a degree of protection to your whole torso should you opponent change direction on their second attack. It form the basis of all other blocking movements in that from that cross shape in the middle you can block anywhere and any way. Remember it well as my legacy to you lass came the voice as she took a deep breath and began to repeat the block again and again around her tent. The sound of clashing tonfa and grunts of clipped body parts were more than audible, curses flowing freely from her lips, however by the end she had managed to get back into the rhythm of the forgotten technique – now unique to herself, as far as she was aware.

“Three” she intoned, intending to practice her last blocking motions now and knowing they were both linked together, built around that remembered crossing of the tonfa in front of her torso.

They were simple block, but the only ones that were designed to fully stop a weapon in its tracks. The first one, after assuming the starting position once more, was a simple crossing of the tonfa directly above her head after stepping forwards. She locked her arms out to increase the strength of her defenses, letting her bent knees absorb the force of the impact as it traveled through her body and into the ground below her. She was stepping forwards once again, her head now framed by the triangle shape her arms made, the tonfa crossed at her wrists, one behind the other, and forming the cradle that would stop the attack. The second motion was the exact same but reverse. In effect, what had once been up was now down for the second blocking motion. It was meant to stop things such as the butt of a spear flicking upwards towards her abdomen, a cunning attack many pole arm wielders used often to catch out their opponents. This time she stepped backwards, creating an arch in her body as the block was meant to drive the attack into the ground more than stop it completely. That meant stepping back was essential in case the weapon skidded as it hit the ground and ricocheted into the legs.

And thus the body is protected. There are other blocks lass, but the days is fading and you have learnt enough for one day. Rest now and return refreshed next week came the last remnants of her intruding memories before they faded completely from her mind and she set about practicing the last two crossing blocks one after another, the use of both weapons at the same time becoming easier as she forged onwards. At her ending she collapsed onto her bedrolls, body dripping with sweat and laid her tonfa beside her.

“Same time next week then” she whispered to herself as a black mood descended and she began to dry herself with a spare piece of linen.

[Archelon]

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Zandelia : SkillName 1-5 How/why? Skills: Tonfa 5 Dualwielding(tonfa) 5 Meditation 2 Lores: Tonfa stances and strikes(basic) Tonfa: Circle of defense(basic) Tonfa: Dualwielding strikes take practice Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting thread!Keep them up.