An arm-wrestling contest between a father and son led to a shooting and an 8-hour police standoff Monday in Kentucky, according to the Boone County Sheriff’s Office.

Curtis Zimmerman was intoxicated when he challenged his son to an arm-wrestling competition, the sheriff’s office said. When the 55-year-old father lost to his juvenile son multiple times, he became “agitated” and the two got into a physical fight, according to the sheriff’s office.

The father grabbed a gun and fired two shots into the ceiling when his son was going upstairs, the sheriff said. 

Full Story here.

Right off the bat, arm-wrestling should be raising all of the red flags. Do people over the age of 21 arm wrestle? I figured that since we owe so much of that sport to hormones and horny aggression that we phased it out with our other teenage pastimes like sting-pong and putting peanut butter on our weiners.

The last time I saw arm-wrestling was in a Colorado mountain town’s local bar. Yes, the match was between grown men, but this establishment also closed two hours early every Saturday night because a giant brawl would break out so I’d say we’ve still got a case here. People, this is a terrible sport for people who are sore losers, of which there are many. It happens in every fucking movie scene out there! You arm-wrestle at a bar, you’re going to get in a fight. You arm-wrestle with your dad, he’s going to try to shoot you. 

Let’s also be clear- the fault here lies completely on dad. For one, you’ve got to know your limitations when competing with your young son. You don’t go from winning at arm-wrestling to getting skunked in one night. All it takes is a modicum of scouting, a little bit of reading the trends, and a well timed fake shoulder injury and you’ll be in the clear as the undisputed champion for the rest of your life.

Two, as a son living under your parents’ roof, your life’s goal, your whole purpose for existing, is to kick the shit out of your dad in whatever medium your chances are highest in. There’s no mercy; at least not at that age. I’m not saying you demolish your 85 year old dad in a game of one on one. But when you’re a kid, and he’s still the man- you unleash hell.

My dad handled this well. It became pretty apparent early on that he could throw harder than me, and had a higher penchant for cruelty than my young mind could comprehend. So I took my revenge in foosball. Not the most athletic of activities I know, and it took a couple years to develop a wrist shot- but once I took the throne I never relinquished it. Dad’s a good sport and still gets skunked every Christmas, and the swat team never shows up. 

The only part of this whole mess that falls on the son in this story is this. You’ve got to know if you’ve got the type of dad who’s to end up in an eight hour standoff with SWAT. Also don’t arm-wrestle your dad. Also don’t arm-wrestle. 

P.S. An important part of my take on this story that I’ve conveniently left until the end is that I don’t think I’ve ever beaten my mom at arm-wrestling. That never really surprised anyone. She is simultaneously a woman of exceptional strength and a mother of a young man of exceptional weakness.