Cuchulainn found himself in a small studio.
“Where is the yogi master?” he asked.
“Here for the beginners’ course?” said a man on the floor. Everyone was on the floor.
“Yes, I am but a seeker,” said Cuchulainn. “I was told there are answers here.”
“Yeah,” said the man, “this is it.”
“This is the school?!” Cuchulainn looked around, disappointed. “There is no password or challenge to enter?”
“Hi everyone!” the teacher stepped up behind him.
“Your form is impeccable!” he said to her.
“Thanks?”
“Do you know combat?” he asked. “I am always looking for soldiers.”
“If you'll have a seat,” she said.
Cuchulainn sat down, curiously. “If you wish to wrestle me,” he went on, “I will not hold back.”
The teacher seemed to miss this, and demonstrated a simple standing pose. Cuchulainn and the others followed suit. He whispered to the man on his right.
“This is how we greet the guru?”
“This is the lesson,” said the man.
“She is our master?!” Cuchulainn broke formation. “But she is scarcely twenty-five!”
“So?”
Cuchulainn looked upon the teacher, now with disdain. “Look at this pyjama’d fly-by-night!”
“What?”
“I expected an ascetic of a hundred and one! Nude but for the four feet of his beard!”
“That is insane!”
“This is the warrior pose,” the teacher was saying.
“So she is a soldier.” Cuchulainn turned to the other student on his left.
“What do you know of her abilities?”
They ignored him, but Cuchulainn was too excited to shut up.
“Mayhaps I play her game here today. I prove my loyalty. Then! She reveals the secrets I cannot simply buy. I meet the true master.”
“Will you be quiet?” said the girl behind him.
“I become the true master,” said Cuchulainn.
Now everyone was bending down to touch the floor. Cuchulainn spoke from beneath his backside.
“I uncover the ancient techniques and match the dark arts of Aleister Crowley.”
“Sir,” said the teacher. “We can all hear you.”
“Then hear this,” said Cuchulainn, still a downward dog, “for the spirit realms listen, too -”
“Sir -”
“I accept the dangers of your teachings! Strike while I am vulnerable and witness my adept reflexes.”
The teacher went back to ignoring him. “This is the child’s pose.”
“If you do not strike while I am vulnerable,” said Cuchulainn, “you will regret it.”