Mugging

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.