Random Observation/Comment #36: Do I look like someone that can help you? I don’t even know what question you’re asking, let alone answer the question. I need much more help than you do, lady.
Who am I kidding? How do you get a town car in Japan, anyway?It doesn’t matter what I thought at the time because my impulsive thinking had brought me into an empty parking lot and where I faced my predators – all 3 of them.Their weapons were drawn, and I had nothing except this loaned bike from Osaka University.I remember the first (and last) thing I said to them “Where did you get that town car?”
I looked for the leader of this gang, so I could possibly reason with them.The person I wanted to find was someone short, less bulky, and well-dressed, protected at the center of the crowd.Unfortunately, they were all dressed in the same black suit, and they all wore sunglasses (even though it was already dark outside).No further words were exchanged.
My hands instinctively tried to touch the ceiling when they reached for their inner pocket.Before I could blink again, it was already over.I was on one knee, trying not to looking at the damage.As thoughts raced through my mind, the one that stuck was, “Why?”
The hissing sound of the deflating tire made me wrench in pain.It foreshadowed the sound of my deflating lungs gasping for a few more breaths of air.“Not like this,” I thought to myself. In all those action movies, the protagonist never gives up because there would always be a happy ending.I live to tell the story, so this wasn’t the conclusion.It’s actually more like the peak of the conflict.
Their laughs tormented me as I slowly rose to my feet.No more quick escape.Great plan, Clemens – “Let’s stop in a parking lot and face them because there’s a chance they could be friendly.”I cursed at my own stupidity, but decided to continue with the most illogical actions.
It might have been the adrenaline or maybe it was the anger, but I lifted that bike above my head and wielded it like a broad sword.A dark aura surrounded me, and their gasps gave me the impression that I was looking pretty damn badass.
I charged towards them blindly, swinging the bicycle like I would a younger cousin attempting to perform an outrageous wrestling move.They were so stunned at my boldness that they forgot to shoot me.Instead, they waited there like neatly arranged bowling pins lined up for my Strike.
After spinning twice, the bicycle wheel met the face of one of my oppressors.He flew into the air and knocked into his comrade (as planned, of course).Because of the impact, I was also recovering from the attack, but in less than a second, I was ready to face the remaining guy.I guess his eyes were wide open for a Japanese guy, and his jaw dropped a little more than usual.As he stood there in amazement, I jumped off of his car and kick him in the chest.I couldn’t help but scream “waaaaaaa!!!!” like Bruce Lee.
I grabbed the guy from his collar and asked the typical question – “Who do you work for? Who sent you?!?!”Before he could answer, he stopped breathing and died in my arms.I looked at the other two – lifeless, limp, and mangled by the bicycle.
My job had been complete (dun dun dun! Oh, you didn’t see that plot twist coming at all, especially from a blog!).From day 1, they hired me, not to program some robot, but to protect them from those who were after the secret.I failed to find the source of this attack, but now I know more of what to expect in this line of work.
I drenched the car and the bodies in gasoline, and walked away without looking back.I lit a cigarette and threw the match across my shoulder.The trail of gasoline caught fire and traced its way back to the car.In a burst of flames and a glorious special effects explosion, my victory was complete.
I had to walk that damn bike home with a flat tire.It took me 2 hours, and another nice shirt was stained (with the blood and sweat of my enemies)…
Well, at least this was the story I told my dorm so I didn’t have to pay for the damages.What really happened wasn’t as exciting, so let’s just stick with the first version =).
~See Lemons Love Writing