“I am the son of an Amazon! Born of warriors, their blood and courage runs through my veins!”

As he spoke, his skin blotched, symbols glaring to light under the glow of his fury.

Standing, he continued his rant.

“I may not be raised by the great warriors of history, but I can feel their power! I am strong, agile, fast! I can beat any man here!”

“You can’t-“ I try to cut in, but he continues.

The symbols are dark now, strengthening muscles and even growing an inch or two of height out of him.

“I am a son of the great Amazons, whose feats are incredible! I have gained what I have from this advantage in life, through rituals and ancient magic, but my heart burns for more… I must claim victory! For my ancestors!”

There’s a long silence in the room. I yawn.

“Whatever, man. You still stink at Mario cart.”

“I demand a rematch.” He seethed, sitting heavily on the beanbag next to mine, golden eyes focused solely on the screen.

“Okay, but if you break the controller again you have to buy a new one.” I stretch comfortably, pressing START as his symbols vanish into his flesh and his height shrinks again.

Maybe this time I’ll let him win. Just to save the beanbag any more trauma from his fists. I’ve had to patch it up with duck tape where he’s taken his rage out on it.

But as he pulls into first place and begins to crow about his greatness, I can’t help but throw a blue shell his way.

Just to show him whose really in charge here.