The Memoirs of O'Sensei Part 1

Greetings, seekers after wisdom. It's O'Sensei here. Sifu Seamus O'Sensei, Hanshi.

A weak and sickly child, my parents decided that I should learn the traditional martial arts of our country - such as Ju Jitsu, Krav Maga, Muay Boran and WWF - in order to improve my health.

Six months later, whilst recovering from a fractured skull and three detatched retina (you don't believe in the third eye? Pah!), I came to realise the flaw in this view. It was vital that I, as a smaller and weaker man, learn an art that would allow me to overcome a larger, stronger opponent. As the Uzi 9mm had not yet been invented, I begin to travel the world - studying with many of the the great masters and distilling all that was good in their teaching, whilst ignoring the difficult bits.

It was Musashi of course who first suggested that I train with Yip Man, and I beat his top student Bruce Lee in many a cha-cha throw-down. But whilst Bruce was working out sayings like 'be like water, my friend' in that ridiculous accent in order to impress girls (he was actually from Leicester), and Simon Lau was eating all the St. Ivel Gold he could get his hands on, I felt that my own training lacked something. My true epiphany came years later, after Kano Sensei had sent me to England to teach Hapkido.

One day, whilst meditating outside of a Portuguese chicken restaurant, I witnessed a fight between a stoat and a stag beetle. Although it was much smaller, the stag beetle managed to get the stoat in a guillotine choke, causing it to tap out. I decided then and there to model my fighting system after the stoat. I've always been one to champion the underdog.

Some years later two of my senior Stoat-Fu students emigrated to Brazil, where they were saved from a bar-room conversation with Steven Seagal by the timely intervention of Gracie Fields. In gratitude they taught Gracie the Ways of Stoat, and she passed them onto her children. But Gracie was bone idle, and felt that anything worth doing was worth doing lying down. And so Brazilian Stoat-Fu was born.

Her eldest son, Rochdale (pronounced 'Hochdale') became a professional martial artist, as it seemed a lot easier than working for a living. Besides, he had literally grown up in the dojo - he'd have been lucky to get a job cleaning lavatories with those qualifications.

Instead, he developed the Ultimatest Fighting Contest (like the Ultimate Fighting Contest only Ultimater). He cleaned up against oposition who had never had to deal with a grown-man in fluorescent purple pyjamas with an ad for Sketchley's sewn on the back.

And so we have come full circle, as the popularity of Brazilian Stoat-Fu has spread throughout whatever country it is I come from and martial artists everywhere are getting their uniform from Nando's.