The Real Story
I am writing today to clarify a rumour spread to females by certain friends regarding me beating up construction workers. People ask me about it all the time, and I can assure you, the wild stories are complete hyperbole. I'm not proud of what I did, but it is time I put this nonsense to rest for good. Here is how it actually went:
One summer I was working construction on a new Chuck E. Cheese, and there was this crazy skinhead with a nailgun doing the sheetrock. I was feeling good about the project nearing completion, and wanted to share my happy mood with co-workers. So I walked up to the skinhead, patted him on the ass and said, "good job." I mean, I thought that's what guys do to each other on football teams and such after winning a game, right? He grew angry, called me a " fucking faggot" and said he wasn't down with that. And that's when it all happened. It was like a blur. I defended myself in the only way I knew how...by breaking off his legs and beating him to death with them. Applying my vast knowledge of physics, I used my knee as a fulcrum and the weight of his steel-toed Doc Martens as a torque generator to snap his legs clean in half at the knee joint. Having now gained a clear advantage over my opponent, I used the broken limbs as bloody war clubs to finish the job. The Brazilian migrant workers clapped in appreciation.
Then I sexually fondled his wife.
So there you have it. I hope you didn't nod off to sleep at the sheer boringness of that account. Like I said before, I am not proud of what I did, but the record needed to be set straight for the sake of maintaining my good standing within the community.
One summer I was working construction on a new Chuck E. Cheese, and there was this crazy skinhead with a nailgun doing the sheetrock. I was feeling good about the project nearing completion, and wanted to share my happy mood with co-workers. So I walked up to the skinhead, patted him on the ass and said, "good job." I mean, I thought that's what guys do to each other on football teams and such after winning a game, right? He grew angry, called me a " fucking faggot" and said he wasn't down with that. And that's when it all happened. It was like a blur. I defended myself in the only way I knew how...by breaking off his legs and beating him to death with them. Applying my vast knowledge of physics, I used my knee as a fulcrum and the weight of his steel-toed Doc Martens as a torque generator to snap his legs clean in half at the knee joint. Having now gained a clear advantage over my opponent, I used the broken limbs as bloody war clubs to finish the job. The Brazilian migrant workers clapped in appreciation.
Then I sexually fondled his wife.
So there you have it. I hope you didn't nod off to sleep at the sheer boringness of that account. Like I said before, I am not proud of what I did, but the record needed to be set straight for the sake of maintaining my good standing within the community.