Japanese Mike Tyson

I made a short story about Mike Tyson loving Japanese culture that is funny. I had a lot of fun writing this.

Title: "Iron Mike's Midnight Oshi Mayhem"

Mike Tyson stormed into his mansion, sweat dripping from his legendary jawline, a boxing bag slung over his shoulder like a defeated opponent. "Nobody mugs Mike!" he growled, kicking the door shut, although, honestly, the paparazzi had already retreated hours ago. He trudged past a hallway lined with taxidermied tigers and a life-sized bronze statue of himself mid-uppercut, grinning ("A classic" Mike thought), and then paused at a portrait of Winnie the Pooh. A strange thing that was merely a curiosity to the common guest. Just a painting, an eccentricity? Or? He poked its belly. A hidden door hissed open, revealing a secret elevator.

"Time to unwind," he muttered, descending into his kawaii sanctorum: a neon-lit bunker plastered with posters of wide-eyed anime girls, light-up anime swords crisscrossing the walls, and a shelf of limited-edition Nendoroids. The anime body pillow was stiff, Hatsune Miku looking the worse for wear. At the center sat his pride and joy: a custom-built laptop dubbed "The Knockout Notebook". it was going to be a knockout tonight online after this shameless robbery in real life. That's for sure. It's too bad the dude came up from behind, throwing a nasty typical punch and saying "I got the legend" before taking Mike's wallet.

Mike grumbled "If only I was younger. In my prime, one finger would've knocked that fool out. Well, at least I have... You."

He booted it up, the screen flashing "OSHI OVERLOAD" in a glittery ultra kawaii font, with two cats on the bottom left and right with a :3 face. A livestream blinked to life. "Yamero… I'm live!" yelped a pastel-haired idol named Pudding Senpai, bowing onscreen. Tyson's eyes softened. "My little caramel mochi," he whispered, facepalming in shy delight.

"SUGOI!" he suddenly roared, throwing a flurry of digital roses (cost was $199.99, each). The chat exploded: "WHO IS THIS VIP??" and "HE'S SPENT $50K IN 2 MINUTES." and other such comments.

"AH, IRON MIKE STRIKES AGAIN," Tyson bellowed, flexing at the screen. "YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME? THIS IS WAR. WEEB WAR!" In a low voice, which is hard for Tyson, "Omae wa mou shindeiru." He tossed a pixelated tank, then speed-dabbed when Pudding gasped, "T-thank you, Mr. Tyson-San!"

The door creaked open. His butler, Nigel, entered with a tray of finely cultivated tea. "Sir, your post-sparring Earl Grey and chamomile relaxation tea is-"

Tyson slammed the laptop shut. "NIGEL. YOU SEE NOTHING. Nothing, do you understand Nigel? I know where your kids are at all times... I don't like to talk like that..."

"Of course, sir," Nigel said diligently. Meanwhile, Nigel thought to himself: "How can I take this teddy bear Tyson seriously?" while side-eyeing a framed photo of Tyson grinning beside a cosplaying Pikachu at a special Comic-Con run by an anonymous donor. That was Tyson, of course, who he really was past the fighting, fame, and riches. "Would you like me to, uh, re-staple the 'Do Not Enter: Certain Death Zone' sign outside?"

"YEA. AND ADD A 'BEWARE OF BIG, REALLY BIG, TIGER' WARNING." He paused, then sighed. "Nigel… do you ever feel the urge to… collect things?"

"Such as, sir?"

"VHS tapes of 1990s OVAs. Or… signed swimsuit posters. Or a 100% completion Touhou arcade cabinet?"

"Can't say I do, sir."

"THEN YOU KNOW NOTHING OF TRUE TREASURE. YOU KNOW NOTHING OF MY REAL HEART AND GOD GIVEN SOUL!" He slammed the table, and the butler knew that Tyson needed nothing further. He just needed to be alone. Where he was at home. At peace. Free.

He reopened the laptop, where Pudding was now performing a sword dance. "BEHOLD!" He wiped a tear. "SUCH GRACE. SUCH POWER. IT'S LIKE WATCHING A FLAMINGO KICKBOX." He giggled to himself with child-like delight and happiness.

"Sir, if I may… why the secrecy?" said a low voice.

Tyson froze. Slowly, he turned, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper: "I thought you left, Nigel. Because the world fears what it doesn't understand, Nigel. They think Mike Tyson is ferocity and power and strength and all this fighting stuff. But I? I am a connoisseur. Yes, a true connoisseur of superior culture, of artifacts that will be worth entire planets some day due to their rarity... I mean, just look..."

He leaned in, clicking furiously. "SHE'S DOING A KAWAII UwU COMBO BREAKER! I MUST PRESERVE THIS FOR THE ANTHOLOGY OF SACRED JAPANESE HISTORY!"

Later, Nigel would recount the tale to the gardener: how the Champ spent nights yelling "I'LL PROTECT YOU FROM BORING STREAMS, PUDDING!" while having a video of every frame of her rainbow-themed fight sequence. And how, in the end, Mike Tyson slept peacefully, surrounded by plushies and anime lasses, a faint smile on his lips.

After all, even legends need a hobby that hits softer than a heavyweight title fight. It's not all about fighting, right? Sometimes, it's about Ievan Polkka and a girl dancing with a leek. Exactly.

God keep you all. - Jesus Christ of the Aquarian Gospel.

Link also at https://notd.io/n/MikeTyson enjoy!