Weekly Hypothetical – Who Would Win A Steel Cage Match, The Brady Bunch Or 100 Five Year Olds?

When I used to live in Tucson, I had a friend who was the gullible sort. With a little bit of effort and a nonchalant manner, you could convince him of almost anything. Like the time I convinced him that I fucked Kylie Minogue. That sounds incredibly laughable, I know, but the fact of the matter is that she’s just slightly older than me. So when her name came up in a conversation and I casually mentioned I had slept with her, I was able to provide some realistic details that explained such a seemingly oddball coupling: I met her at a bar early on in her career while she was on tour, she hadn’t hit it big in the States yet, I had no idea who she was, she thought that was cute, etc. By the time I was done explaining everything, he not only believed that I’d slept with Kylie Minogue, but he bought the added details as well, including a totally made up (I think) foot fetish that had Kylie falling asleep, half drunk, while sucking on my toes.

A month later, I’m at a party with my friend and he suddenly decides to inform the entire room that I had slept with Kylie Minogue, and even ends his pronouncement by telling everyone how she was sucking on my toes when she passed out. There was silence for a split second while everyone looked at him as if he were high on crack, and then he said, “C’mon man, tell the story. Check this out, everyone.” Everyone’s gaze turned to me, and so I calmly said, “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Bill.”

Look Bill, here's a picture of Kylie before I porked her in a swimming pool in front of her parents!

The look on his face as he realized that I’d just been fucking with him was absolutely priceless, and it just goes to prove two things. First, guys in their 20’s will treat anyone like shit if they think they can get a laugh or two out of it. Second, always take advantage of an opportunity when it presents itself. Always. And so when last week’s post about the Brady Bunch facing Barack Obama in an election resulted in a comment exchange that suggested I continue that line of thinking as part of a larger series, I jumped all over it. Actually, I had a beer. Eleven, actually. And I huffed some paint. But hell, a good idea is a good idea.

So this entry is the first of a weekly series of hypothetical questions answered here because my paint huffing habit makes me qualified to answer them in a way that few others are: I’m deranged.

Today’s question: Who would win a steel cage match between the Brady Bunch and 100 five year olds?

As always, we must make some assumptions in order to arrive at an answer:

• We are talking about the Brady Bunch characters, and not the actors themselves. That is good news for Brady Bunch fans because even though Robert Reed is mowing that great expanse of Astroturf in the sky, Mike Brady will still be able to kick kids in the teeth.
• The characters involved will be the nine main characters, Carol, Mike, the kids, and Alice. As tempting as it may be, we can’t add Sam the butcher because he’s got meat cleavers and a way of disposing of meat. He, quite simply, would swing things too far in the favor of the Brady Bunch.
• The five year olds in question are a mixture of boys and girls and are five year olds in every way. They are not blood-thirsty maniacs any more than five year olds already are, they have feelings, feel pain, occasionally wet themselves, etc.
• The steel cage is assumed to be large enough to contain all of the combatants comfortably, and is situated in an environment that favors neither side.
• Just because I think it’s funny, the audience will consist entirely of women named Eunice.

What you get when you Google Image Search "Eunice". Honestly, the all-Eunice audience is not as funny as I had thought it would be.

Without bragging, I can honestly say that I would win a cage match against 100 five year olds by myself. Kids that age are afraid of everything: thunder, ghosts, broccoli, everything. And so I would start the contest by screaming at the top of my lungs, grabbing the nearest five year old, and punching him in the face 20 or 30 times. Put down the phone, stop calling Child Protective Services, this is only a hypothetical situation. It’s very rare when I actually do this.

But think about it, if a grown man were to do that, the only danger he’d be in would be drowning in the piss the other 99 kids would be producing in copious quantities. But due to a liberal, left-leaning Hollywood, the members of the Brady Bunch are very unlikely to do this. Mike Brady would launch into a homily about reasoning and talking things out, the rest of the family would stop what they were doing to heed his words, and before you know it the five years olds would be fighting over who got to keep Marcia’s nipples as a trophy.

The correct five year old strategy, on the other hand, is to immediately rush the largest members of the Brady Bunch and disable them first. One you took out Mike, Greg, Alice, and Carol the rest of the family could be dealt with easily, especially if their blubbering pleas for help provoked contempt in the souls of the little tykes. But I’ve got a five year old in the house and let me tell you, their planning skills are for shit. “Hey daddy! Let’s put on these parkas and go for a hike in the mountains!” “But it’s a 116 outside, we’d die in hours.” “Well.. Maybe someone will bring us water out there!” Unbelievable. I knew painting the kids’ bedrooms with lead-based paint was a bad idea.

Lead paint can affect more than just your children. The More You Know!

So we’ve got a deadlock: The Brady Bunch can seize an easy victory, but won’t because they’re a bunch of mamby pamby wusses who wouldn’t know how to beat their own meat without detailed instructions. And the five year olds can win with even the most rudimentary plan, but lack the skills to conceive such a plan in the first place.

Once again, the key here is Alice. I envision the cage match unfolding like this: Mike Brady launches into his homily, “You know, it was a wiser man than me who once said…” and as the five year olds sensed their opening and began to approach, Alice would realize the peril they were all in. Initially defending the Brady children without resorting to violence, she finds that she must go on the offensive once Bobby and Cindy are snatched and violently torn to pieces. (Cue this sound.)

In the end, Cindy, Bobby, and Jan are dead, Peter has been paralyzed from the waist down, and Marcia sinks into a catatonic state from which she never recovers. The remainder of the Brady’s rally around Alice and kill 62 kindergarteners and permanently disable another 24 before taking pity on the remaining 14 and inviting them over to the Brady household for cookies and milk, served by Alice drenched in the blood of their fallen comrades.

Alice, at the post-fight press conference

So there you have it. Really, it’s just common sense. And in no way is this answer (or the subject itself) to be seen as the byproduct of drug use. (Cue this sound.)

Got any hypothetical questions on any subject? Either email me or post them as a comment below. I’ve got my spray paint and huffin’-bag handy.