The Terrifying Mugger Incident

I was in the food court of the mall when it all went down.

There I was, eating a bean burrito from Taco Bell. There are so many reasons to enjoy eating this kind of burrito, by the way; they are among the larger items on Taco Bell’s menu, they are among the cheapest, and I really enjoy the warm, beany taste of them. A nice helping of cheese…yes, it’s fair to say I was relishing my bean burrito at my table. The sun slanted through the skylights, illuminating the heads of my friends Hank and Bo. Those guys, they think bean burritos suck, and were eating more expensive combos instead.

Bo: Christ, you got burrito jizz on your chin again. You want a bib?
Me: Shut the fuck up, Bo. I like to eat like Friar Tuck, you know that.
Hank: My stomach hurts. I’d better not get diarrhea like last time. Did anybody notice the way the cashier kind of smirked at me? I think he was gay.
Bo: Yah, I did. Hmm, I notice you have sour cream on your tacos, Hank.
Hank: So?
Bo: Oh nothing. I’m just sayin’.
Hank: You sick fuck.

It was right around that moment when we all heard a desperate wail from a table about ten feet away. We looked over and saw a helpless older lady being tugged from her chair, as some creepy mugger guy yanked her purse from her arm. Her husband was just sitting there – I don’t blame him though. Sometimes these things happen so fast that you can’t react. And besides, he must have been pushing ninety and was kind of desiccated. What could he do, really? In the split-second that I took in what was going on, my heart went out to him. And we all make jokes and wonder why our senior citizens are afraid to go anyplace – it’s because shit like this happens. It’s like jackals thinning out the herd. They go for the weak ones first.

After a couple of healthy tugs, the mugger managed to pull the purse from the arm of the old lady, who was howling like a dying antelope. He was wearing typical gang-attire, and surrounded by other food-court patrons who were doing nothing. What a society we live in.

It’s a good thing we were there.

“LET’S ROLL!” I shouted. I whipped my burrito to my tray (well, I tried to – I actually kind of threw it to the side. It flipped end over end to detonate on the forehead of this poor schmuck who was sitting at the table next to us. I hope I didn’t take his eye out or anything…I never found out either way).

“FUCKING-A!” Bo screamed. We all leaped to our feet to pursue the disappearing mugger, who was dodging through mall traffic like a running back.

The mugger picked the wrong place to ply his trade. The three of us are gym regulars; powerlifters, actually. Bo has the “worst” squat among us, and he can push 605 off the rack. All this to say, our legs are trained to move a huge weight as fast as possible in the shortest time. And that we are matchless head-to-head in a sprint situation. Combine this with the startled parting of the crowd who saw us coming, and the mugger didn’t have a chance in hell of getting away.

We closed the distance faster than a starving cheetah.

It was Hank who got to him first. The mugger slipped trying to negotiate a corner, and Hank saw his chance. He launched himself in the air, an angry human missile, at the mugger’s pumping legs. Hank barreled into him with a tackle that would have made the defensive line of the Patriots proud. They hit the granite floor with a gasping, “HOOOF!!”

The mugger though, bless his little heart, wasn’t finished yet. He squirmed around on the floor and managed to donkey-kick Hank on the cheek. “AHH! FUCK! YOU STINKING CUNT!” Hank roared. He clapped his hands to his spurting face, shaking his head blindly back and forth. My turn – I was right behind.

I flew, knees-first, into the chest of the mugger. He was driven backward again into the pavement – but unbelievably, was still clutching the purse, attempting to make his escape. It wasn’t going to happen. I grabbed his filthy jacket and cocked my fist behind my ear, like I was preparing to launch a Hail Mary to a wide receiver. The mugger kicked beneath me. “Get offa me, you cocksucka!” he screeched.

“I don’t think so,” I seethed. My fist impacted his nose with a dead meat splat, spraying blood and mucus across the granite tile in a gruesome fountain.

“OH, YEAH!! DO IT, MAN! WASTE HIS ASS!” yelled a passerby.

The mugger was still writhing with insectile vitality, refusing to submit. “Fuck you...Fuck you…” he grunted. He was punching my shoulder with his free arm, still stubbornly desiring release. I have to give him top marks for that, actually. But still…it was time to put the baby to bed.

“You’re going down,” I hissed through gritted teeth. I struck him again, this time crushing his jaw. A handful of teeth rattled on the ground like spilled tic-tacs as his head hammered off the floor. It was over.

I rose above the slumped body of the mugger, taking the purse from his relaxing fingers. Not a mark on it – I was pleased. I looked around to see Bo and Hank grinning at me, and behind them, the shocked elderly woman and her husband, who was holding his wife with worried, rootlike fingers. I walked over to them. “I believe this is yours,” I said.

"Thank you, young man...thank you very much," the woman said, her lips trembling with emotion. She took her purse back with quivering hands as her husband stared at me with huge eyes, hanging onto his wife like a life-preserver. I paused for a moment, and reached out to tenderly touch a tear that was creeping down her cheek, cutting a path through the rosy makeup she had innocently applied that morning. I was suffused with a burning, furious hatred for all people who would scare and threaten the safety of a helpless old lady like her.

"It's all right, ma'am...it's all right. He's never going to hurt you again. I promise you," I murmured. Somewhere in the crowd, a man whooped.

The whole thing was written up in the city newspaper, and Hank, Bo, and I got our pictures taken for the front page. The CBC account of the incident isn’t as detailed as what I just laid out, so I wanted to be sure to put in writing Wednesday’s events as they occurred.

As a warning. Because me and my friends, we’re always around.

The opening chords of AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" began to play through the mall's sound-system.

“Rock and roll,” Bo said. “Anybody up for some beers?”