The Story of Trixi Stix

Bullies were a plague for this coquettish commander of evil from early on in her life. Daily beatings and lunch money robbery slowly, but surely, drove a steely resolve deep into her girly core. Then, after an evening spent inside a locker, something snapped within young Trixi, and a ferocious hunger to stomp some ass awoke and demanded to be sated. It was on the long walk home that she first noticed the slanted red roof of the "Wretched Mantis Dojo." "H-Hello?", she stuttered, passing through the beaded curtains.

An ancient Chinese man stood silently off in the lantern-lit corner. The white tentacles of his beard and yellow curl of his nails cast elongated shadows across the room. "Why have you come?", he croaked with a voice as dry as parchment. "I want to learn how to defend myself," she murmured, tugging on a pigtail. "You lying!" The frail figure teetered towards her. "You come to Master Yen lo Wang to learn killing! Killing with hands! This is truth. Yes little girl?" "Yes! Yes!", Trixi blurted, rushing to the skeletal figure and grabbing him by the silk lapels of his robe. "Show me how, Master lo Wang!", she cried with tears welling in her big, brown eyes. "Make my hands like knives and my feet like wrecking balls. I can't stand to be weak any longer!" She burst into sobs, hiding her face from the old man.

Yen lo Wang let out a laugh like a clear chime. "Stop the flowing of your tears, child! Crying is for weakness and Master Yen lo Wang has no place in heart for weak! I teaching Trixi Styx. I making her undefeatable in mortal battles, but she must train...train very hard in path of Black Pointy Fist!" "Anything! Anything, Master Wang!", Trixi said, finding strength in her words. "Even you soul, little Trixi?" Yen lo Wang smiled craftily. Trixi's young face grew solemn, the steel inside her burning cold. "If it makes me weak, what use is it to me?" And with that, lo Wang's fingernails unfurled like a fan and snaked their way down the little girl's throat, clutching at the very essence of her innocence. With a cry, the deal was sealed, the lantern in the dojo burning slightly brighter.

For three months, three weeks, and three days Trixi trained under Master Yen lo Wang. She became faster than the serpent, more ferocious than the tiger, and more brutal than a shark. On the day of her final lesson, she arrived at the dojo, only to find an empty space in the mini mall. There, in the litter strewn lot was a single fortune cookie. Trixi bent and picked it up, crushing it open between two fingers. "Trixi," it read. "Your final lesson now begins; Find your others and bring them together. Show the world its brutality and rejoice in rivers of blood that you will making flow." And she did.