Mortal Koolness

 A few weeks back I went to Bali to help celebrate a mate's 40th birthday. On the night of the party, there was the usual amount of drinking, eating, chatting and laughing. It was the typical fun party action and all (messy) business as usual until the dancing girls showed up. They wandered around to the beat of frenzied local percussion as they waved some flaming batons through the night air.

The lovely lasses left to be replaced with a guy in a glittering jacket, who started twirling the fire with more impressive speed and enthusiasm. After his short demonstration the girls came back, resuming  their absentminded noodlings with the fiery sticks. Normally I'd probably have devoted more attention to them -- scantily-clad Asian girls are hardly cause for me to wrinkle my nose in disapproval -- but tonight my gaze was captured by this guy:

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Looking like some sort of S&M Scorpion clone (a feat in itself), this guy proceeded to take an angle grinder to his studded leather codpiece, resulting in a fountain of brilliant sparks. He parked himself up the back and did his thing while the girls shuffled around him and barely gave him a second look, despite the possibility of their hair igniting.

And then all too quickly he was gone. I immediately had to go get a pic of the Netherrealm's premier entertainer. Actually, I got two, and he was kind enough to grab his crotch in the second one. What a guy.
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