Discombobulated

Tired, I get home, unlock the door. Turn on the lights. A murderous row of five freaks await me ready to rumble. Turn off the lights knowing I have a split second to hit the goon on the right with a left jab, flip round to kick the bits of the center bat-bearing oaf. Skull punch the far right freak and gouge the eyes of his neighbor center right, then back over to the left kick, punch, uppercut… he’s out and back to the beginning reach for that ear. Pull. Smack nose up into brain. Back to center. Smash, kick and twist the neck until dead. Three left. Back to right roundhouse to the conservative side, and clutch and yank the neighbor’s throat out. Two left. Pull their heads together: smack. Discombobulated. Again for two more rings. Now turn on the lights see what’s left. They hobble. No mercy. Glance the temple right hard and round over to trip, then bang the neck on the floor crushed. One more. Weave and wobble. Motherfuckers can’t touch me in my house. Grab the leg animal wrench the ankle, feel it crack left. Broken. Stomp twice. Double check. No breath in them but I am steaming and heaving deep. Reset and stretch. Turn of the light. Now what?

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