Speaking of him, when I was going through my Instructor certification for the ASP baton, I had been beating on the dude hard (!) for several rounds. To say I was gassed out would be an understatement. I had nothing left in the tank when time came to start the next round. The referee blew the whistle and I just stood there, drew my imaginary pistol, and shot my opponent. My instructor asked, “What the hell was that?” I said, “Indiana Jones… bitch!” 
