Friday, September 9, 2011

Ham Battle OR What I Did On My Summer Vacation

It was a rainy morning at the Spitfleksville Bob Evans as I sat there with my family, considering the menu. I settled on orange juice, eggs, toast and finally, ham. As soon as I spoke the word to the waitress, there was a vague overlap in the sounds. The word ham was spoken in stereo. 2 tables over, a thin piece of beef jerky wearing an ill fitting and filthy t-shirt ordered the same thing. In a flash, the whole place knew it was on. Ham fight.

Before I could get my hands on a proper weapon, he was on me, clawing at my shirt and gnashing his few remaining teeth in a blind rage. I flipped him over my shoulder and he came down with a crash through a nearby table. I leapt to my feet and caught the fork and pepper shaker thrown to me by my step brother. I dashed at the thin wisp of a man, throwing a cloud of pepper in his eyes as I brought fork down hard into his collarbone. He howled, but I pressed the attack, raining down blows onto his small frame. It culminated in a kick that I put my full force behind, which sent him flying through a nearby wall and out into the rain soaked parking lot.

I thought it was over, but then I felt a sharp pain in my side. I failed to notice his portly companion, who had decided to join the fray by slipping a butter knife between 2 ribs. I spun quickly, tearing the knife from my side and using it to pin her hand to a painting of some ducks floating down a nice stream. I had no time to savor my victory, however, because the thin man returned, leaping through the hole in the wall and onto my back. He grunted and howled at me, spraying the side of my face with flecks of spit and blood. As he attempted to choke the life out of me, I was able to flip him over my shoulder again and onto a waiting knee. I heard his bones crack and felt his spine contort around my knee. He still flailed his arms at me, trying to scratch and claw at my throat and eyes. I locked my arms on him, one pinning down an arm, and one around his throat. I squeezed and held, until he went slack in my arms. When he dropped to the floor in a heap, a cheer went up from the Restaurant.

I took my place at the table with my family as the staff busily put the man on a stretcher. As they were putting up plastic over the hole I had created the waitress approached and said "I'm real sorry y'all, but we're all out of ham." I had the bacon. It was delicious.

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