It wasn't what I expected nor wanted, but what could I do?
I was given no choice. Really, I was minding my own business taking an evening walk when I was confronted by a young thug riding a skateboard. Something about his demeanor told me he was not there for conversation, and being older, I knew that my conditioning was not what it was twenty years ago. I had no time to waste, so I broke the most accessible bone within reach. The orbital. Distracted by the pain, the young thug reeled backward, and I took advantage of the next opening by kicking him in the groin. He dropped to the pavement in a heap. I retrieved his expensive-looking skateboard, obviously stolen, and beat him about his body with it. Once I was done, I continued on with my evening walk. I'm sure someone would find him, or he would just hurry home without saying anything. More than likely, he would lie to his friends and weave a yarn about how he fended off a bigger assailant or at least twenty punks like himself and that all he got was a broken orbital. I couldn't let that happen, so I went back and broke his ankle and forearm. Then, I used my karambit knife to cut out his tongue. Not all of it, but enough of it so that no one could understand what he was saying. I felt much better after, and I continued with my evening stroll.
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