The Hun and the Vandals

“Stop kicking that sculpture. It’s a piece of art that someone obviously spent a lot of time on and what did it ever do to you?”

“Fuck man, c’mon let’s break some more shit!”

Serge wondered how he had ever gotten dragged into the whole affair by his friend Mickey, who was recklessly pulverizing a bronze colored porcelain statue of a wild stallion. They were standing in the foyer of some strange guy’s house. A guy Serge never knew or cared anything about either way. Yet for some reason Mickey convinced Serge that this was the home of the guy who picked on Mickey in high school. Some big jock type named Ted.

Apparently Mickey had seen Ted one day recently and followed him back to his house. A sense of rage overtook Mickey as he recounted the taunts and abuse he’d received from Ted during his miserable days of high school as more or less a dork.

“The douchebag gave me a wedgie every day for two years.”

Sitting at a bar offering a cheap happy hour earlier in the evening, Mickey persuaded a rather buzzed Serge to come along and assist in exacting revenge. A much more sober Serge now assessed the situation.

Broken objects of various shapes and forms were strewn all over the white shag carpet in the living room where they stood. Serge looked down and noticed that they had tracked mud all over the carpet. You could see the paces they took and close stutter steps made to pummel or shatter a tough object, such as the glass coffee table and the vases on the brick mantel above the faux fireplace.

Serge felt as though he had contributed little to the havoc wrought all over the house, but still he would be indicted just the same if caught. What were they thinking, Serge wondered. They were professionals in their mid-thirties not stupid punk kids out for jollies and destruction, or were they?

Serge began to regret being there. He wondered if he had stayed with Brenda, instead of dumping her over some bullshit commitment issue then perhaps he would be married and home with his wife, dinner waiting, and queue the happy Golden Retriever named Sparky and the cutesy three-year-old toddler named Todd running to greet him. No, instead, he stood in the middle of anything but domestic bliss.

“Mickey, we should get out of here, I think we’ve done enough.”

“Don’t be such a pussy, Serge. You barely broke anything besides the lock. Plus I saw there’s a   in the bedroom upstairs. I want to rip that up before we go. And did you see that aquarium Ted’s got? I think I should dump the fish out on the floor with the water and Ted can watch them gasp for air when he’s all freaked out by his wrecked house. God I haven’t felt so alive in years. Do you feel that adrenaline man?”

“No can’t say I do anymore. Don’t be a sicko Mickey. You should leave the fish alone. Look, anyway I want to go. The longer we’re here the better chance we have of getting caught for this stupid prank. I can’t believe you convinced me to come down here.”

“Not my fault if you’re too weak-minded bro,” Mickey said before pulling down a bookshelf. “Screw reading, right?”

“Says the web editor.”

Frustrated with the whole thing and feeling like a complete idiot Serge was about to tell Mickey he was leaving when he heard keys turning the front doorknob. Crap, Serge thought and alerted Mickey to the situation silently by crouching down and motioning towards the door. Mickey gulped and with careful pantomiming motions suggested that they sneak upstairs.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Ted screamed upon entering his house. A big sports fan, Ted was already irritated at having seen his football team lose by six touchdowns earlier and now this. Ted stomped around with his hulking body. His skin tone turned bright red offsetting his spiky blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. His breathing accelerated to an animalistic pace of rage. Ted stalked the lower level of his home kicking the various items already destroyed along the way.

Serge and Mickey managed to make their way upstairs without Ted hearing. In a bedroom, they found a window with a tree near it. Mickey softly suggested they open the window and jump to the tree and then work their way down to freedom. Carefully Mickey unlocked the window and slid it open. A detachable reinforced storm screen impeded their progress and Mickey reached at the different corners to remove it. Mickey unfastened the last part the wrong way and lost hold of the heavy screen as it crashed down to the ground. Mickey and Serge paused for a moment and thought Ted didn’t hear the sound. But then suddenly they heard Ted charging up the stairs yelling various obscenities and threatening death.

“Go, go, jump,” Mickey yelled to Serge. “He’s coming for us, go, Jesus!”

Serge’s heart began to pulse as he rose up and then put half of his body out the window. He tried to reach the tree, but it was just too far and he fell hard to the ground. Serge’s knee hurt severely because that’s what took the initial impact of the fall. He lay on his back grasping his knee. He saw Mickey above climbing out of the window and worried Mickey might land on top of him.

Mickey jumped out the window and Serge expected to be crushed. But in a quick jerking motion Mickey stopped before he even started.

“Come here, Motherfucker!” Ted yelled as he grabbed at Mickey’s hoody top upon jumping out the window. Ted held Mickey in midair with his pulsing beefy forearms trembling to pull Mickey back up into the house. Mickey screamed in horror. Serge continued to wreath in pain and watch. Ted pulled Mickey up slightly and then began to choke him. Mickey’s spindly legs flailed about wishing they were on ground. It felt like an eternity as Ted refused to cease choking Mickey.

Serge was convinced Mickey might die as he saw Mickey grow weaker and a stronger gasp for breath develop. Mickey’s legs slowed down considerably. Serge knew he had to do something to save Mickey.

Hobbling away Serge went as fast he could to the front of the house. He opened the door and quickly made his way upstairs. He went into the bedroom and saw Ted leaning out the window still choking out Mickey. Serge had no other recourse he decided than to go for the legs. With superhero-like might Serge grabbed Ted’s ankles. Ted realized what was happening and tried to kick, but in vain. In a quick motion, Serge forced Ted out the window.

Serge couldn’t see what happened, but somehow all of the momentum out the window must have caused Mickey and Ted to flip in the air because when Serge looked down on the ground Mickey lay atop Ted. It looked as though Mickey had pinned Ted like a wrestler.

Serge rushed downstairs and outside. Mickey was in pain and screaming. Ted appeared unconscious. Serge checked his vitals. Ted appeared to have a pulse and a deep steady breath. The impact may have been hard on Ted, but he was like an ox and would survive, Serge decided. Serge picked up Mickey and struggled to carry him back to the car. As they drove away Mickey began to recover.

“Wow what a rush, that was crazy. That big motherfucker nearly made me shit my pants,” Mickey exclaimed.

“So do you think you got your revenge?”

“No actually, you know I realized that wasn’t Ted at all.”

“Are you shitting me? Christ I’m worried we might get caught.”

“How? Man, don’t worry,” Mickey said and laughed. “Let’s got get a beer, I’m buying. You deserve it for coming back. I thought you might run off.”

“No matter what, I got your back dude,” Serge said pulling out of Not Ted’s neighborhood and speeding onto a highway headed for a watering hole wondering if he would ever grow up.

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