Last night was a complete disaster. First off, my parents were out of town and my brother and I are house sitting. We decide to have some folks over to BBQ and swim and drink some beer and enjoy the sunshine. Some how a bunch of strange guys come over and start hanging out. They seem cool enough so we think nothing of it. As the day progresses these guys start wandering around the property and through out the house. There actions are starting to resemble that of insects, you know, scurrying about, changing direction randomly.
Anyway, a couple of them were inside the house alone for just a little too long so I decide to go and see what they are up to. As I am walking up stairs I see them going through my Mom's jewelry and my Dad's drawers. I charge at them, not knowing what else to do. One guy has bracelets and necklaces and all kinds of jewelry dangling from the whole length of his forearm. He drops his hands and everything comes sliding off in a big clatter. I grab him and pound him into the wall. His buddy pulls out a long knife, so I drop the guy I've been pounding through the wall and run back down stairs.
Everyone scatters and now it's just me and my brother. Then all of a sudden there are about a dozen of these guys coming up the driveway, over the fence, from the neighbors yards....we are surrounded.
Now this is a part of the story that might sound made up, but I assure you it's true.
Luckily my Brother is really into martial arts weaponry, and luckily our Mom was cool enough to buy him all kinds of stars, swards, knives, bo's, nunchucku, and a friend of his even gave him a grenade for his birthday once.
Anyway, we both seem to realize that there are drawers full of this stuff in his room upstairs and make a dash inside. We pull the drawers right out of his dresser so fast that knives and grenades come flying onto our laps. I grab the grenade and give him a look like, 'shit, this will get them all in one blow', but quickly realise that we would then have to explain to our parents why there is now a ditch where the kitchen once was.
Instead I grab a big machete, like the ones they carry in Fiji (this is my friend Bosilio's machete) and a short sward, my brother grabs a Katana sward.
Geared up and ready, we run back down stairs and meet these guys. I got one fat one in the ping pong room. I ducked under his swing and caught him in the gut with the machete and then in the back, six or seven times, with the short sward once he was slumped over. My brother and I hack our way through these guys leaving the hallway and kitchen splattered in blood. The whole time I felt like I was carving pork. I think I would have been sick had I not tricked myself into thinking this way.
Leaning against the hallway wall, exhausted, I slid down and sit on the floor. Legs extended in front of me. Blood starting to stiffen in the hairs. I must have fallen asleep.
Hours later. It's dark now. I remember that we have plans with our sister, Dempsey, and a gaggle of other folks. There is some show playing on a mountain somewhere. My brother and I rinse ourselves in the pool, turning it from a tranquil blue to a hazy, opaque pink/burgundy. There are so many of us that we have to pile into three cars, and even then it's cramped. Anyway, I drive my truck out to the mountains and along a dirt road for, what seemed to me about a four hour trip. To be honest, I don't even remember the show. The whole time I was thinking about what happened back home. I could tell my brother was the same. The show ended and we made our way back to the massive dirt parking lots. We decided to wait until the lines of cars to leave had shortened before we all crammed ourselves into my truck again. Along the way there was some miscommunication though, because my sister, who was supposed to ride with me, was missing. We searched and searched and searched. We looked until the last of the cars were long gone, and then we searched some more, all the while awful things were running through my head about what could have possibly happened to her. Eventually we find her and head home. My windshield is so dusty and my wipers aren't doing a thing. I can barely see the road ten feet in front of my truck and besides, I can barely keep my eyes from falling shut. I pull over to the side of the road and tell everyone that we are going to have to sleep in the truck. No one seems to inconvenienced by this and soon enough we are all huddled together for warmth and trying to speed the passing of the day.
Needless to say, I woke up in a less than ecstatic mood today.