The Graduation Speech
Another month had passed.
Dave had learned everything he could from the yoga class—every bend, every breath, every humiliating stretch that nearly tore him in half. Today… was his last day.
He stood at the front of the studio, looking out at the familiar faces. Eason. Leaf Girl. All the weirdos, the perverts, the sweat-drenched warriors of flexibility.
For once, Dave looked… reluctant.
His throat tightened. He opened his mouth to speak—
But nothing came out.
His vision blurred. The words sat heavy in his chest.
He didn’t want to leave. Not really.
That’s when—
CLAP! CLAP!
Their instructor stepped forward in his crisp white shirt and slacks. His smile was easy, his tone smooth.
“Let’s welcome today’s star with a few words. Come on, Dave—graduation speech time.”
The timing was perfect. Somehow, even in awkward moments, Mr. Moonly could steer the vibe like a seasoned nightclub DJ.
The class chuckled. Even Dave laughed through the lump in his throat.
He sniffed, wiped his eye, and finally spoke.
“Thank you… everyone… for growing with me.”
“I’ve gotten a lot stronger here—and I don’t just mean the muscles. I’ll always remember you guys.”
“Even you, Eason. Leaf Girl… and of course, our teacher—Mr. Moonly.”
The moment he said that last name—Moonly—the room froze.
Eyes widened. People looked at each other.
“Wait… he has a name?”
“I thought he was just called Teacher…”
“No one told me this guy had an actual name??”
A wave of confused whispers swept across the room.
Dave scratched his head and laughed.
“Yeah… I didn’t know either. But I accidentally punched him too hard a while ago, remember?”
“Had to take him to the hospital. And when they asked for his ID, I saw it… Moonly.”
“I always thought his name was just ‘Teacher.’”
Everyone burst out laughing.
The mood lightened again—warm, goofy, ridiculous. Just like every session.
Then Dave turned toward Leaf Girl, suddenly a little more serious.
“By the way, your outfit… it’s bold, sure. But it’s basically just two leaves. You might wanna be careful walking home late at night. Keep an eye out for creeps.”
Leaf Girl gave a smug little grin.
“Please. Compared to you, I’m basically modest.”
She gestured at Dave’s lower half.
“You’re literally wearing pink laced panties. Female cut. Front triangle. I don’t think I’m the problem here.”
The class exploded with laughter.
Dave blushed. He adjusted his waistband and muttered something about laundry day.
And just like that—on that absurd, happy note—they shared their final moment together.
The last day.
The graduation speech.
No Goodbye Without Drama
Dave gave one last glance to the classroom.
Then, quietly, he reached down and adjusted his pink lace panties. Just a small tug. A soft gesture. One final embarrassment he had come to embrace.
He turned, ready to walk out.
But his steps were slow. Heavy. His eyes shimmered—not quite crying, but dangerously close. This place… these weirdos… this strange, sweaty yoga dungeon—it had become something he never expected.
Home.
And just as he was about to cross the threshold—
“Dave,” a voice called out.
It was Mr. Moonly.
The teacher stood casually in his white shirt and slacks, arms folded like nothing was wrong. He smiled—warm, genuine.
“I’ve got an event this Sunday. You wanna come support me?”
Dave paused.
“An event?” he asked, turning back. “What kind of event?”
Mr. Moonly scratched his head like he was about to talk about a family barbecue.
“Oh, nothing big. Just a world record attempt.”
“I’m going to jump from a very, very high place.”
Dave blinked.
“Like… how high?”
“Empire State Building.”
Dave’s brain froze. His lips parted.
“Wait—what?! That’s like… one hundred floors.”
Mr. Moonly stayed calm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“The current record is ten stories. Someone survived that fall.”
Dave’s jaw dropped.
“Then why not go for eleven floors? Or fifteen?”
Mr. Moonly looked him dead in the eye.
“Because I am awesome. And I know it.”
Dave stared, not sure if this was a suicide mission or the boldest flex ever spoken.
Then he nodded.
“Alright. I’ll be there.”
The other students, still lounging on their mats, raised their hands one by one—
“We’ll all be there, Teacher.”
“Yeah, we’ll support you.”
It felt… weirdly good. Like a cult. But no one questioned it.
Dave lingered a bit longer. His eyes still watery. He wanted to say something else. Anything. Just to stay a few more seconds.
But Mr. Moonly moved first.
THUMP.
He stretched one leg out—casually, almost lazily—and kicked Dave square in the torso.
Not gently.
Dave’s body lifted off the ground and flew clean out of the studio, crashing into the hallway like a human cannonball.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Mr. Moonly calmly walked over and shut the door behind him with a quiet click.
“Go,” he said. “Don’t loiter.”
“It’s not like we’re never gonna see each other again.”
Dave gave one last look. And walked away.
Back inside—
Mr. Moonly stood still for a beat.
Then he dropped to his knees and clutched his head, wailing:
“Oh no… I’m gonna miss that boy so much…”
“One of my finest students! My legacy! My everything!”
The girls gasped. Some covered their mouths, trying not to cry. Even the guys shifted uncomfortably.
A beat of raw emotion—
Then suddenly—
CLAP. CLAP.
Mr. Moonly stood up, wiped nothing from his face, and smiled like nothing happened.
“Just kidding.”
“Alright. Back to class. Today’s pose—Downward Dog Style.”
The class exploded with laughter.
Because really…
There was no goodbye in that room without a little drama.
Show Me Your Progress
Dave wandered the street like a guy who had nowhere to be.
Graduation had ended. His pink panties itched a little, but that wasn’t the reason he felt off. Something was missing. He didn’t know what. Just… off.
Then, up ahead, he saw it.
A dog. Crawling along the sidewalk on all fours.
Dave squinted. The way it moved was weird. A little too human.
And then it stood up.
“Hey, what’s up, dude?”
It was Norman.
In a pink Hello Kitty t-shirt. Dirt on his knees. Just standing there like it was normal to be crawling through a city sidewalk pretending to be a dog.
Dave blinked. “Bro, I thought you were a real dog just now.”
Norman grinned. “You serious? Damn—I’ve been working on that. Nailed it.”
He jogged up and slapped Dave on the back.
“Anyway, how’s the yoga thing? You done with that?”
Dave nodded, smiling. “Yeah. I graduated. Got the mat, the weird little ceremony, the whole thing.”
He paused.
“Honestly? It changed me, man. I’m way stronger now. My flexibility’s off the charts. I can absorb impact like a sponge. I think if I jumped off the fifth floor, I’d walk it off.”
Norman raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Dave shrugged. “We had a teacher who said he’s gonna jump off the Empire State Building this weekend. Compared to him? I’m just a baby.”
Norman gave a long, slow blink. “Damn. Alright.”
A quiet beat.
Then Dave added softly—
“Hey… we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
Norman squinted. “We literally went shoplifting together yesterday.”
Dave blinked. “Oh. Right. Yeah.” He scratched his head. “Still feels like a long time.”
Norman rolled his eyes and pointed down the block. “You feel strong now? That kid’s walking like three meters ahead. Show me.”
Dave looked. A teenager was strolling down the sidewalk, unaware.
Dave didn’t even hesitate. He stretched his leg out—longer than normal, almost like rubber—and fired a side kick.
CRACK.
The heel smacked the back of the kid’s head. His eyes rolled up. He dropped like a sack of bricks.
Dave pulled his leg back. Casual.
“See? That’s progress.”
Norman nodded. “Not bad.”
He yawned.
“Still pretty normal though.”
Dave frowned. “What? That was a full knockout!”
Norman ignored him. “Hey, you ever try that pose where you bend yourself into a knot? Like wrap your body through your own leg?”
Dave shuddered. “Bro, that’s a forbidden pose. I tried it once, almost died. Had to get picked up by ambulance.”
Norman tilted his head. “Damn. Sounds boring.”
Dave huffed. “It’s not! It’s actually insanely powerful. You just don’t get it.”
Norman smirked and pointed at a nearby five-story apartment building.
“Then prove it. Let’s go up there. You jump.”
Dave froze. “Are you serious?”
Norman was already heading for the stairs.
Dave swallowed and followed.
“Oh shit…”
Jump Test
They made it to the fifth-floor balcony.
Dave climbed up onto the edge like it was nothing. One leg swung over the railing, the other balanced awkwardly. He stood tall, arms out, like some kind of yoga messiah about to perform a miracle.
“Should be easy,” he muttered. “Just five floors. No big deal…”
He looked down.
Cars. Sidewalk. A random grandma crossing the street with a grocery bag full of tofu and soy milk.
His confidence cracked a little.
“I mean… I probably won’t die.”
Norman leaned against the wall, sipping a juice box he brought from god knows where.
“Come on, man. Hurry up. Don’t waste time.”
Dave turned. “I’m just—”
SHOVE.
Norman ran up and pushed him clean off the balcony.
“OH SHIT—!”
Dave went flying.
Not diving, not flipping like an athlete. Just flailing. Arms and legs spinning in random directions like a puppet having a seizure midair.
Down below, the grandma looked up and screamed—
“Another one?!”
She ducked, dropping her soy milk. It exploded all over a guy in a business suit, who froze in place like someone just handed him a divorce.
Meanwhile, a delivery guy on a scooter swerved to avoid the chaos and flew straight into a garbage bin. A banana peel shot out and smacked him across the face mid-scream.
BOOM!
Dave slammed into the pavement.
Not on his feet. Not on his back. He hit sideways—hands first, then chest, then knees, like someone trying to slide into home base with zero athletic experience.
CRACK.
But somehow… he stood up.
Groaning. Spitting a little blood. Shaking his head like it was nothing.
“I think… I just landed wrong. My legs were supposed to hit first.”
He wiped his mouth, straightened up, and cracked his neck.
“But yeah. My flexibility’s like rubber now. It absorbed most of the impact. Probably.”
A few meters away, Norman ran down the side of the building like he had anti-gravity sneakers. Less than a second later, he was next to Dave.
“Damn, man. You actually didn’t break anything. That’s wild.”
Dave nodded, breathing heavy.
“Yeah. Felt pretty easy.”
Norman pointed across the street—at a ten-story apartment.
“Wanna try that one next?”
Dave glanced at the building. Then back at the pavement. Then down at the faint red stain he just left behind.
He smiled.
“Maybe next time. Didn’t we say we’d hit that Korean BBQ spot today? Eat and run?”
Norman’s face lit up.
“Oh yeah! Good idea. Let’s go!”
And just like that, the two walked off like nothing happened.
The Leaf Man
Sunday came faster than expected.
By noon, the sidewalk outside the Empire State Building was packed. A full crowd had gathered for one reason: to watch people jump.
Not just any people—wannabe legends. Daredevils. Idiots. And among them, one very specific idiot: Moonly, their yoga teacher.
Dave and Eason stood side by side near the front, squinting up at the skyscraper’s needle-like tip. But so far, no sign of him.
Before Moonly’s grand finale, a few warm-up jumpers had already gone for it. None of them made it.
Not even close.
They hit the pavement like bags of soup.
City workers, unfazed, hosed the red smears into the gutters.
“Meat sludge,” Dave muttered. “All of them.”
“I think that last guy twitched,” Eason replied.
“No he didn’t.”
They stared for a moment longer, the building stretching endlessly into the clouds.
Then, someone tapped Dave’s shoulder.
He turned.
It was a girl.
Long black hair. White blouse, black skirt, kitten heels. Elegant, poised, face like a K-drama lead.
“Who the fuck are you?” Dave blinked. “Do I know you?”
The girl smiled.
“Hey! I’m Leaf Girl, you jerk! I changed clothes. Don’t you recognize me?”
Dave took a long second.
Then another.
“Wait—what happened to your leaves? And your boobs? You look like… a normal person now.”
She laughed.
“That outfit was just for yoga. I’m actually really traditional. Normally I dress modestly.”
“Oh,” Dave said. “Cool. So the leaves were just… for flexibility?”
“Exactly.”
Next to them, Eason was tearing up.
He clutched his head.
“Then how am I supposed to call you Leaf Girl now?! You don’t have leaves anymore!”
The girl raised a calm eyebrow.
She just smiled.
“I have a name, you know…”
She tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a casual smirk.
“It’s Cecilia.”
Dave and Eason both tilted their heads and muttered softly:
“OIC…”
Before they could say anything else, the loudspeakers crackled overhead.
“Ladies and gentlemen… our final challenger has arrived!”
All eyes turned upward.
And there he was.
A lone figure stepped onto the ledge of the Empire State Building’s peak.
Familiar.
Terrifyingly familiar.
He wore nothing but a pair of green boxers… and two oversized leaves.
One taped to each nipple.
His arms stretched wide like a messiah about to fly.
“Moonly,” Dave whispered.
“That son of a bitch stole your look,” Eason said, pointing at Cecilia.
She said nothing.
Just watched in silence as their yoga teacher, The Leaf Man himself, prepared for the final plunge.
Moonly’s Leap Will Go On
Somewhere in the background, a lone violin began to play.
It was faint at first. But unmistakable.
“My Heart Will Go On.”
The Titanic theme.
Up on the Empire State Building, the final moment had come.
A breeze swept through the clouds.
Moonly stood tall at the ledge—arms wide open, hair flailing like a shredded mop in the wind. The green boxer shorts. The two leaves. The messiah pose. It was all real.
And then he jumped.
No, not jumped.
He flew.
At least, that’s what it looked like. His arms outstretched, his body steady like a glider, descending from the heavens with the grace of a divine idiot.
From the ground, Dave, Eason, and Cecilia watched in awe.
“That’s our teacher…” Eason whispered.
“So cool…” Cecilia added.
“Like a flying watermelon,” Dave nodded.
Moonly’s descent was majestic. Controlled. Perfect.
Until the end.
A thunderous CRACK tore through the street.
Moonly hit the ground chest-first. Full force. His body bounced like a basketball, flipping backward through the air, legs flailing, leaves fluttering.
When he landed again, it wasn’t gentle.
He skidded like roadkill. A twisted smear of man, leaf, and boxer elastic. The pavement cracked in a spiderweb pattern beneath him.
Cecilia instinctively stepped forward.
“We should check—” she started.
Dave casually placed a hand on her shoulder.
“No need. Our teacher’s tough.”
A cluster of medics and staff rushed to Moonly’s crumpled form.
One guy kneeled beside him, put two fingers under his nose.
“Oh my god… he’s dead.”
They froze. Stunned.
But before they could process it—
Moonly shot upright.
“HAH! Just kidding, man!” he yelled, clapping his hands like a circus clown.
“I’m still alive, bitches!”
The crowd roared. People screamed. Applause erupted like a rock concert.
Moonly had done it. He had survived the leap.
Cameras flashed. Hands waved.
He had—
SPLURT.
Moonly suddenly coughed up a geyser of blood.
Then collapsed again. This time, flat.
One medic leaned over and sighed.
“Okay. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice… shame on me.”
“Let’s go, guys.”
They walked away.
That night, Moonly was rushed to the ICU. Unconscious. Possibly brain-dead.
The news hit fast.
“Today’s record-breaking leap is under review,” a stiff anchor announced on live TV.
“Because Moonly is currently in a vegetative state, officials are waiting to see if he wakes up before confirming the result.”
Outraged viewers threw their rice bowls at the TV.
“DECIDED OR NOT? YES OR NO? SAY IT!” one man screamed.
But the broadcast continued:
“Only if Moonly regains consciousness will the jump be officially recognized. Until then, we wait.”
And just like that, the yoga studio closed its doors.
Not because Dave graduated.
Because every student was forced to graduate.