4 years or so ago, I’m coerced into going to my Wife’s Aunt’s annual sleepover pool party (one day I must really talk about my wife’s family in detail.) Not only that I have to take my sister-in-law, the Ton of Fun along with us.
My Sister-in-law is the The Ton of Fun because she weighed 300 pounds and is the most thoroughly unpleasant and despicable person I’ve ever met in my entire life. She’s always dour and complains about everything. Everything in her life is wrong, and none of it’s her fault. I have no sympathy for her weight problem as she’s a human garbage disposal, eating nearly as much as I do. Later the Ton got a boyfriend, and the couple was collectively known as Two Tons of Fun. She scheduled a stomach bypass on the day my wife’s caesarian was scheduled and begged my wife’s parents to stay with her instead of visiting us on the day our daughter was born. I will always hate her for the pain this caused my wife. Anyway, the point is she’s only 150 pounds or so now, so I don’t know what to call her any more. I just settle for “ex-Ton.”
I’m not making this stuff up.
So we drive to the Aunt’s house, and The Ton is complaining about the air conditioning and wanting to stop every few miles and cutting horrendous eye-burning farts in the back seat, ruining the gas mileage of our vehicle, and otherwise spoiling what would be quality time with the wife.
She tags along as we arrive and ensures we never have any time together. It’s early afternoon, and we get in the pool.
At this point, it’s important to note that Scylla is an aquatic sea-monster. He has always been one with the water. PE was required in College, and Scylla took 8 semesters of Progressive Scuba courses. He worked as a diver (on a treasure hunter, not as fun as you think,) and loves to free-dive. Scylla once held his breath for four minutes and two seconds while actively swimming.
Now, there’s this Peruvian guy, we’ll call him Rick. He’s the husband of one of Mrs Scylla’s like nine aunt’s, working on his fourth marriage, and green card. He’s brought his kids from a previous marriage with him, and the boys are all mid-teens, and bad kids. Fun party, huh?
There’s a lot of horseplay in the pool, and Rick is playing impromptu tag with some of the females. He grabs them and throws them so they splash, demonstrating his Latino machismo (which is just stupid, as somebody could crack their head on the edge of the pool,) he pulls them under and dunks them, and is otherwise acting like a general ass. He’s had a beer or two.
The Ton reports to me that he’s also copping feels as he does this. I laugh.
Then, he cops a feel on Mrs Scylla as he dunks her. She is pissed, and pushes him in the face and swims away.
Things settle down, but later I notice him doing it again to a barely pubescent girl.
In the immortal words of Popeye, “I’ve had all I can stands, and I can’t stands no more!”
I look at Rick, and smile to let him know I’m going to dunk him. I’m in the game. He smilers back and starts swimming for the deep end. He’s bigger than I, and not worried.
I take a double lungfull of breath and go beneath the surface. Using my legs, I propel off the wall and streak like a torpedo towards the deep end, threading my way through the legs of my wife’s relatives.
After my initial push, I travel slowly along the bottom and sides to lose myself in the crowd. Rick is by himself in the deep end, treading water and looking for me.
I have taken a minute or so in my travels and am now at the bottom of the deep end wall.
I crouch and curl, stretching my arms up as the theme from Jaws goes through my head.
Then, with all the strength in my legs I push off the bottom and rocket towards the surface. I pull my arms down increassing my momentum.
Like an avenging God I break through the pee-filled waters 3 feet behind the titgrabber, my momentum carries half my body out of the water. I suck in another lungfull as I reach the top of my arc. Rick spins in the water, and there is a look of primal fear in his face as I crash on top of him with a predator’s leer. He struggles like a flounder as my arms encircle him, and my legs trained by countless hours of Scuba propel us both to the bottom.
I hold him in a grip I learned to carry a panicked swimmer to rescue (Yeah, I know I kind of perverted the purpose here,) in one hand as the other encounters the filter grate, and locks in.
Rick the Peruvian is now completely fucked.
As his lungs start to burn he begins to struggle in earnest, but it is no use. As part of Scylla’s training, Scylla had to “drown” in a pool under controlled circumstances. These circumstances are not as ideal, but I feel I’m in control, and it’s worth the risk as he’s a total scumbag. Anyway, I’m familiar with the process of drowning, and know what to expect.
"Buuuuhhhhhuuuubbbuuuurble!!!" cries Rick.
“Blub, blub, blub,” I snicker.
Finally he goes into a convulsion of sheer panic as his arms windmill. He’s seconds away from breathing water. I release the filter and shoot to the surface depositing the coughing and gasping Peruvian at the side of the pool.
I lean in close to his ear.
“Don’t grab tits.”