Round One, Fight! Solo Complete

Date: February 7th, 2023
Location: Merthyr Tydfil, Wales

Jón Rod is a righteous, hard working man who is the proud, dotting husband of a stead fast lady of ethereal grace and father of three bright, glowing daughters. Two of which he could say were, quite literally, attending a magical school. He could not ask for a more perfect life or a more blessed domain. That is until mail day.

Although he praised his two eldest daughters for their accomplishments within their unique academic setting, there was nothing more he disliked than the Hogwarts mail system. Why does he have such a harsh distaste towards the Hogwarts mail system, you may ask? Well the answer is simple, the owls are his enemy. Not once has an Hogwarts owl given poor Jón his precious daughters letters without a fight and today that battle continued.

Opening the front door to his home and entering the foyer Jón immediately met by his beloved wife, Anna. “Just in time,” she began as she pulled an old fraying broom out from behind her, “the mail arrives within the next minute, I suggest you change into more… athletic clothing.” Taking the broom from her hands Jón sighed and nodded before heading upstairs to comply with Anna’s recommendation.

Throwing on a simple pair of sweat pants, his favorite red jumper, and a pair of fairly worn tennis shoes Jón armed himself with the disheveled broom and entered the kitchen/dinner room area of his room. Anna and his youngest daughter, Johanna, sat at the dinner table. “Dad, you don’t actually hit the birdies, do you?” Johanna asked as she looked at him with what could only be expressed as grave concern.

“Of course not Jo, he just waves it around for shock factor.” Anna said placing a dinner plate under her daughters nose. “Like a Obi Wan with his lightsaber?” Johanna inquired, “Yes, but more like Anakin with his lightsaber during order 66 and the owls are the younglings.” Jón said as he began to slice through the air with the handle of the broom.
“What’s order 66?” “Order- OW!” Jón cried out as Anna had pinched his arm, indirectly telling him that he had said enough.

The three of them then proceeded to pause, the house becoming filled utter silence for as the dooming sound of shuttering wings and chuttering of a flightful beast entered their ears. “Mails here.” Anna announced. “Good luck, Dad!’ Johanna said before turning her attention to the food that her mother had placed in front of her just moments ago.

Taking a deep breathe, as if he could suck all the strength of the worlds determined fathers into his lungs, Jón opened the door to the backyard. The owls weren’t about to land in the front of the Rod home due to the fact that it’s front door immediately opened up to a sidewalk, meaning that they had no front yard. However, to make up for it their home had quite the spacious backyard which was perfect for the sparing match that was about the ensue.

The one down side to each mail delivery was that the Rod family didn’t own their own owl, thus Adlai and Dorothy Rod enlisted one of the school owls to deliver their letters which meant that the that brought the mail was almost never the same. Meaning that at least seventy five percent of owls Jón faced at the end of each week were new opponents. Tonight was no different.

Perched on the far left corner of the backyard fence the carnivorous bird tucked in its wings and tilted its head into Jón’s direction. “You there,” he said, “drop the mail where you stand and leave for face the true might of the one and only Mr. Rod!”

The owl simply stared, as any owl wood. “I see, so you have chosen the hard way of handling this. Good thing I have come prepared, but have you?” With that Jón proceeded to enter a ridiculous pose before almost full on sprinting towards the poor bird whilst waving his choice of weapon in the air. After standing there for a moment too long, the owl promptly dropped the envelopes and flew away.

Once Jón had reached the end of the yard where the owl had been perched he used the broom to hold himself up as his chest heaved up and down as he inhaled and exhaled heavy breathes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought!” He called out, before leaning down and scooping up the dirt smudged envelopes.

Owls 7, Jón 14.