East Coast Kid Is Trying To Kill Me

I don't know if any of you were following it, but East Coast Kid and I got into it on a thread in PTS yesterday. At one point, They See ALL said he loved East Coast Kid, who reacted very negatively to being loved by another man. Naturally, I called him a homophobe. He reacted and threatened me in a very vague sense, which doesn't fly with me at all. I posted, as a result, a secret he had confided in me a while back. East Coast Kid, much to the surprise to people who agree with him politically, supports harvesting organs from the poor to keep the rich folks like himself alive longer. East Coast Kid was furious, and sent members of his syndicate after me to collect my organs. He said he was going to be sending 3 guys last night as soon as I fell asleep. Well, folks, East Coast Kid lied...

He sent 5.

What follows is a retelling of the events that transpired the evening of June 13th, 2005, in Mundelein, Illinois. All the previous events can be viewed on the appropriate thread.

I finished typing a U2U to East Coast Kid letting him know his threats didn't bother me, and that I was going to bed. I walked down the hallway to my room, got into bed and turned on my PS2. After about a half hour of reckless killing, I shut it off and decided to turn in.

At 1:13 AM, my eyes snapped open. I had just heard something that wasn't a normal sound, but I couldn't place what it was. I didn't even know if the sound just came from my dream. Not thinking much of it, I turned over and closed my eyes, quickly starting to drift off again. There it came again. It almost sounded like, "stupid dog" being amusedly whispered. My watchdog had served his purpose again.

I have a shi tsu who is the most worthless watchdog ever created. He barks if he wants to go down the stairs, but if someone breaks in, he'll look up at the person, then go back to bed. The last time someone broke in (co-worker sent Hamas after me, people were blowing up all over the place!) the dog served its purpose because the terrorists couldn't help but laugh out loud at this pathetic excuse for a sack of flesh. It seemed East Coast Kid's crime buddies couldn't help but be amused by the dog, either.

I got out of bed as quietly as I could and threw on a black hoodie. In combination with my black sweatpants and all the lights being off in the house, I was effectively invisible. There was no way these guys were going to see me before I wanted them to.

I slowly tiptoed over to my bedroom's door and started to turn the handle. The bedroom opens into a library which then opens into the hallway. Unless someone was in the library, they wouldn't see me coming out of my room even if all the lights were on.

I quietly opened the door and slipped out, still not visible to anyone in the hallway.

"Hey, he's over here!"

So much for being invisible. I was annoyed that the only training tool I had in my room was my naginata, which was far too big for the closed quarters fighting that was about to take place. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see a baseball bat swinging for my head. I ducked and jumped to the side just in time to miss a scalpel stabbing at me with his other hand. Now I knew, East Coast Kid's 3 thugs with baseball bats and scalpels had shown up to harvest my organs. This was unacceptable -- I had just replaced the carpet and blood is murder to get out!

I land slightly off balance as the first person starts to come after me again. I land with one hand supporting me and hear behind me the thumps of people stomping up my stairs. The bat started coming down on me again, and I rolled out of the way, right into my paintball gun. Sweet!

I grab the paintball gun with a loud, "HA!" Jumping up, I put the gun up to my shoulder while at the same time turning off the safety. I pump that trigger about 5 times into the shocked face of my attacker. Looking at a clean, confused face, I realize something's wrong...Damn, CO2 tank! I start to bend down to find it on the extender and turn on the airflow. Too late, the bat swung and busted my A-5 in half. Now I was pissed, but his 4 friends showed up at the same time.

"What the...E-C-K said he was just going to send 3! I knew that punk couldn't be trusted!"

My library is about ten feet by ten feet with bookshelves lining all the walls, with the exception of a glass sliding door. The door opens to a balcony with about an 8 foot drop to the ground. The door to the hallway is kitty-corner to the sliding glass door. I had my back to the glass door, and the 5 thugs were fanned out in front of me. If I wanted to get to any of my weapons, I would have to break through them and run to the garage.

Thankfully, these truly were thugs, and they didn’t know how to work together. One came in with his bat raised, but made the mistake of looking to either side to make sure his buddies weren’t going to be in his way. As he was looking, I grabbed his wrist and spun him around. Placing my thumb on the back of his palm and keeping a firm grip on his wrist, I jolted his hand, breaking his wrist and forcing him to drop the bat. Letting my guard down slightly, I didn’t even notice the scalpel until it had buried its self into my thigh.

Bellowing more with anger than pain, I threw the guy towards the other four, picking up the bat. I flung the bat at the head of the guy blocking the doorway, who ducked. I watched as my bat shattered a vase my sister had made me, jumped over the guy ducking, tore down the stairs and ran to the garage. “Finally,” I thought to myself. “I get to use these things to [I]legally[/I] kill someone!”

I pick up a pair of sais and slip them into the waist of my sweatpants, and I take a katana/tanto set. I get up, turning to the garage door to face my attackers as my pants fall down. Ok, so the sais were too heavy. I take them out, pull my pants back up, and walk out of the garage into the craft room I had just run through. 4 of them are there, and I hear screaming coming from upstairs, along with crashes. I check out the 4 and realize the 5th was the person with the broken wrist, and he seemed to be having a temper tantrum. I unsheathe my katana by whipping the sword in their direction. They scatter as the sheath whirls through the air towards them. I take off the sheath to my tanto, too, and they give each other unsure looks.

I rush the 15 feet between us and all 4 of them raise their bats to attack. I dive into a roll between two of them, holding the katana and tanto out so as to cut both of their legs. The one on the left jumped out of the way, but the hot spray splashing against my back told me I hit the other one. At the same time, all of them swung down with their bats, all hitting the floor. One of the bats broke and the thug cursed.

I get up, using the katana as a support to help me rise by placing it on the throat of the thug whose leg had just been cut.

“You just killed Frankie, you son of a b…” is as far as one of them got before my sword came across his throat as I said, “no cursing in this house.”

The other two looked at each other, and ran out the door and out of my life, hopefully forever. There was still the matter of the jerk upstairs bustin’ up my library, though.

I hobbled up the stairs as quietly as I could. My thigh was really starting to hurt now that the threat was, for all intents and purposes, over and my adrenaline was starting to chill out. I started getting a little shaky, too.

When I saw the guy breaking vases, I remembered the two dead men downstairs. The pain disappeared as I realized those pieces of excrement got blood all over my new carpet. In a fury, I ran into the library and spun the guy around. He was facing me, and looked very shocked. He was even more shocked as my hand plunged into his ribcage and took a hold of his heart. His shock culminated as I tore out his heart, showed it to him, took a big bite out of it, and stuck it in his mouth as he tried to exhale his last breath.

Yeah, it was twisted, but I was pissed! So let that be a lesson to ya, East Coast Kid! You come after me, you’ll be leaving with only 20% of your resources! You homophobe!