Omi was greatly surprised. The man who was Jack Spicer's grandfather had gotten to the Wu, the <a href='http://xiaolinshowdown.wikia.com/wiki/Imo_Gazer' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Imo Gazer</a>, and challenged him.
"'Ere's how it is, Chavvy, we take turns askin' the other three questions, first to answer wrong, loses. Got it? My monkey staff, against your, well," He looked to his grandson.
"Go for the Eye o' Dashi, gran'da."
"Alright, against your Eye of Dashi, you ready Chavvy?"
"My Name is not Chavvy, it is Omi," The mini-monk almost screamed, "But I accept your challange, Mad Mod. Let's go, Gong Yi Tanpai!"
The world around them shifted, oddly leaving the pair standing on an old rope bridge, with Mod leaning on the Monkey staff like a Cane.
"No need to shout, ducky."
"I am no duck!"
"Now, if Jackie explained things right, I think I'll go first." Then Mod stood silent for several minutes, looking around. After about ten minutes, he looked at Omi, "First question, Chavvy, what is your name?"
"What, that is what you were waiting to ask?"
"Ah, ah, you're not asking the questions yet."
"My name is Omi."
"I think this guy's senile," Raimundo muttered from the viewing group.
"Right, second question, why are your after these toys?" He asked, holding up the monkey staff
Omi quirked his head, "To keep the Shen Gong Wu out of the hands of evil doers."
Mod smiled, spinning the staff, "Alright then, ducky, what," he began, slamming the end of the staff into the bridge, "is the the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"
Omi may not know about a lot of things, he may know nothing about slang or technology or subtlety or women, but he knew about animals, mostly because of the Tongue of Saiping.
"Which type of Swallow to you mean? African? European?"
"What?" Mod had, honestly, from Jack's descriptions of the boy, expected him to be clueless, "I don't know any of thaAAAAHHH!" and by some invisible force, Mod was flung off the bridge, leaving the Monkey Staff behind.
88888888
Hours Later...
Jack and Mod returned to their base. Jack was upset at the loss of his only Wu, but Mod hadn't stopped laughing.
"What are you laughing abou', Gran'da? We lost the only Wu I had!"
"Aye, Jackie, we did, but that was the most fun I've had in years. Not since those Yank tikes busted up me smugglin' racket."
Jack rolled his eyes. He liked his grandpa, at least more than most of his family, but he hated when the old man started rambling about 'the good old days'.
"Alright, Jackie-boy!" Mod said loudly, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, "Get your tools and brew some Coffee, we're gonna make sure that, next time, our Union-Jack-bots will be ready to teach those duckies a lesson."
Jack smiled as he grabbed a toolbox, his gran'da may ramble, but between tech and evil, he felt closer to him than anyone else in the family, "On it, gran'da."
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I don't know much Python, sorry.