brad yader

A long, long time ago, in a far, far away land, there was a couple. A very muscular couple, a pair of butchers of unmatched skill and precision. The woman in the couple was completely unable to conceive a child, the doctors repeatedly stated, but the couple wouldn’t give up hope just yet- After all, they needed an heir to their meaty throne. They prayed and prayed to the gods for a child, and after many months of steamy, passionate love-making, their requests were granted, and a healthy, blond-haired baby boy was born. His name was Bradley.
To put it very shortly, Brad wasn’t an optimal child- At least, not in the way that his parents wanted him to be. He never really cared about studying the ways of the pork, or the mysteries of the ribs, or the secrets of the seasoning. What Brad cared about was fighting. His only wish was to be a champion when he grew up- Maybe a gladiator of sorts, or a jouster, or even a brawler, anything to test his skills, really. He didn’t want to tenderize meat, he wanted to tenderize meat.
And so, the little butcher boy fought. He boxed bulls to death in the fields, fought feral wolves in the forest, broke bird bones with his bare mitts, until it the day finally came when he could join ‘junior’s first underground murder-fight club.’