EXT. SECLUDED POND - DAY A glorious sun shines down on a hidden gem of nature -- a serene pond, tucked away in the bosom of suburbia. The camera pans across to find ROBBY KEENE (18, martial arts enthusiast, and troubled soul) on his latest escapade -- trying to find peace of mind. He stands at the water's edge, hands on hips, a devilish grin growing on his face. ROBBY (to himself) Time to commune with nature... Cobra Kai style. With gusto, he peels off his shirt, revealing a chiseled torso -- the result of countless karate push-ups and the occasional bout of teenage angst. Next, he uncaringly unbuttons his jeans. The camera tastefully shifts to a rear view, just as he slides them down, revealing... a pair of Cobra Kai branded boxer briefs. Robby pauses, revels in a moment of faux modesty, then kicks off his boxers with a martial arts flare. We're left with a glimpse of a butt that's clearly done its fair share of dojo squats -- toned, tight, and surprisingly pale in contrast to his tan lines. ROBBY Who needs swim trunks, right? Robby sprints, takes a flying leap, and cannonballs into the pond, whooping with a very un-ninja-like lack of stealth. CUT TO: EXT. POND - CONTINUOUS Underwater, bubbles cascade around him. Robby surfaces, hair slicked back, looking every bit the rebel prince of the pond. He floats on his back, stretching out as if the water has washed away every dojo drama. ROBBY (sighs contentedly) Ah, serenity now... The camera pans down into the water -- to witness Robby's moment of gastrointestinal emancipation. A sequence of fart bubbles frolic to the surface as Robby winces with relief and a kiddish grin. ROBBY (whispering to himself) Strike first, strike hard, no mercy. The bubbles explode on the surface with a silent but deadly dignity. Some poor, unsuspecting FISH nearby catch a whiff and float belly-up, stunned by the potent expulsion. ROBBY (confused) Dojo never prepared me for this... Robby spies the fallen fish, strokes over, and plucks them from the water with a warrior's precision. Suddenly, survival instincts kick in -- this is not just farting in a pond; this is fishing with an edge. ROBBY Well, fresh sushi coming right up. Thanks, nature. CUT TO: EXT. POND SHORE - LATER Robby, his modesty preserved by a strategically placed bush in the foreground, sits by a crackling CAMPFIRE. A makeshift spit grills the fish -- slightly overdone but seasoned by the pride of an oddball victory. ROBBY (chomping on fish) Karate, nature, a bare butt, and some fish -- life's pretty good. He takes in the solitude, the breeze mildly wafting the once noxious air. A beat of silence as he savors the oddly acquired meal, punctuated by a self-satisfied chuckle. ROBBY (winking at the camera) Guess I just put the 'art' in 'fart'. He laughs to himself, wolfing down his catch with as much enthusiasm as he'd throw a roundhouse kick. The campfire crackles in agreement -- this was a moment of pure, unadulterated Cobra Kai absurdity. FADE OUT.