I was sitting there on the ground spacing out when two thugs jumped me from behind. I was taken completely off-guard and it took me a few seconds to comprehend what was happening. In that time, I suffered multiple blows to my ribs and was caught in a headlock. I was knocked over to the side with the bigger thug’s arm around my neck and the smaller thug punching me in the solar plexus. I managed to knee the smaller guy off of me while I rolled onto the bigger guy so that my back was now on top of him.
The little guy recovered and charged at me like Dick Butkus. I shook off the headlock and sat up to try to fend off the wild rhino attack. The bigger thug took this opportunity to squirm out from under me and I lost track of him as the little guy soared through the air with a psychotic smile on his face of terror.
His momentum took me back down and he was on top of me. My hockey instincts took over which is weird since I don’t play hockey and I pulled the mugger’s shirt from his back up and over his head making him blind and limiting his arm movements. This gave me the chance I needed to push him off me and take an offensive position. However, as I tried to stand up, the little fucker backed up and I ended up holding his inside out shirt while the big fucker jumped on my back again.
I did another roll on the floor to lose him and finally came up in a squatting fight position ready to take on my aggressors. I tied the little fuck’s shirt around my head like a banshee and said, “Bring it, punks.”
They both screamed, “Attack,” and charged at me. The big one swatted at my headband shirt but ended up getting only a little slice of my face from under my eye instead. Apparently these hooligans haven’t heard of nail clippers. I ignored the blood and body slammed the little one to the ground. Then as the big one came in for second swipe, I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the ground on top of his partner in crime.
Then I jumped on top of both monsters and tickled them to no end. They were crying with laughter and began to not be able to breathe. They both finally yelled, “I’m a monkey’s bottom,” and it was over.
I rose up a champion and I celebrated with a victory dance of epic proportions. There was hip swaying, woot wooting, in your facing and quite a bit of fancy footwork. The boys were so impressed that they joined me and suddenly a street brawl turned into a dance fest.
We finally collapsed in exhaustion, I put a towel on my bleeding face and we watched Good Luck Charlie together.