"Nobody makes me bleed my own blood"

While killing some time today at an elementary school, I decided I'd participate in a game or two of America's favorite pastime: Dodgeball. Although this is not the point of the story, you should know that I am a pretty dominant 4th grade dodgeball player. Anyway, me and the other members of team 2 are in our stances ready to sprint to the middle of the field of battle to retrieve the balls. This kid next to me, who I've never seen before in my life, turns to me and says these words: "I get my power from baseball." Seriously, how does one respond to this? "Really, I get my power from the extra 95 pounds I have on you?" I had nothing. He then went on to fill me in on his travels and exploits in the world of "select" little league baseball. I'm trying to pretend like I'm paying attention to this, but my focus is distracted by another young stranger who is repeatedly alternating between pointing at me and his flexed bicep. Of course I got a kick out of this, so I gave him the "Meet the Parents" "I'm watching you" signal. Well, I clearly should not have engaged this future Oregon Duck, because things escalated quickly. He went straight to the throat slashing gesture. Before I could register that my life had just been threatened by a nine year old, the horn had sounded and the game was under way. I'll spare the details of the beat down that we put on those little punks (I mean how could we lose with a "select" player on our team?). I just want to say that I am now officially afraid to be a parent. If my child (after the age of 8 and barring any socially impairing disability) turns to a complete stranger and without even a hello proceeds to explain why they are awesome, they will be immediately disowned. The throat slashing I can at least understand. I mean why the hell was a 30 year old man intruding on a children's game of dodgeball. I'd try to decapitate that bastard too.