Pond James Pond
New member
This morning I helped a neighbour move some furniture in my van. It was a bright, warm, pleasant spring morning.
The birds were singing, the breeze was whistling and the drunk man staggering down the street wielding a 8" knife, was bellowing.
It was at this time I intimated to the female neighbour that boarding my van might be a good idea.
50 yards down the road were the targets of Mr Vodka's ire: 4 youths.
They saw him coming and moved to intercept. At this point, Mr Vodka had a moment of clarity and decided to go home. Not fast enough, though.
I started moving closer to the fray, asking for calm and suggesting the lads relax a bit as clearly Mr Vodka had seen the error of his ways. They didn't listen, initially.
Take a moment to picture the scene if you will... One decrepit drunk bloke trying to run away, with a bread knife (yes, bread knife) in hand. Meanwhile, he gets lamped around the back of the head by a 20 year old with a... wait for it, windshield sponge: the kind used for truck windshields. Yes, that's right: a 2-foot aluminium rod topped with a big sponge. No better brawling weapon could have been asked for.
He managed to remove the wino's cap. At this point, I was stepping in from one side to tell them to cool it.
They did, but not before another one, on the other side of the van, out of my line of sight kicked the drunk quite hard, according to my neighbour.
I was in no real danger during this altercation, which sort of gracefully glided past me across our front lawn, but I'm glad it was short lived.
The drunk was an idiot, but the lads no better, as the threat had ended the moment they'd sized up to him: they should have let it go, but testosterone will be testosterone.
Any way, after that I made a mental note to go to the range for a spot of practice that very afternoon....
The birds were singing, the breeze was whistling and the drunk man staggering down the street wielding a 8" knife, was bellowing.
It was at this time I intimated to the female neighbour that boarding my van might be a good idea.
50 yards down the road were the targets of Mr Vodka's ire: 4 youths.
They saw him coming and moved to intercept. At this point, Mr Vodka had a moment of clarity and decided to go home. Not fast enough, though.
I started moving closer to the fray, asking for calm and suggesting the lads relax a bit as clearly Mr Vodka had seen the error of his ways. They didn't listen, initially.
Take a moment to picture the scene if you will... One decrepit drunk bloke trying to run away, with a bread knife (yes, bread knife) in hand. Meanwhile, he gets lamped around the back of the head by a 20 year old with a... wait for it, windshield sponge: the kind used for truck windshields. Yes, that's right: a 2-foot aluminium rod topped with a big sponge. No better brawling weapon could have been asked for.
He managed to remove the wino's cap. At this point, I was stepping in from one side to tell them to cool it.
They did, but not before another one, on the other side of the van, out of my line of sight kicked the drunk quite hard, according to my neighbour.
I was in no real danger during this altercation, which sort of gracefully glided past me across our front lawn, but I'm glad it was short lived.
The drunk was an idiot, but the lads no better, as the threat had ended the moment they'd sized up to him: they should have let it go, but testosterone will be testosterone.
Any way, after that I made a mental note to go to the range for a spot of practice that very afternoon....
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