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I saw the carjacker moving slyly – or what he thought was slyly, anway, – into what appeared to be a familiar position for him. Granted, I think any toddler who had developed the ability to focus on something for more than half a second at a time could’ve been able to tell that he was planning on stealing the very nice BMW parked in spot 243 of the garage. To be honest, if I was a criminal I totally would’ve stolen it too, but I was never really chosen by the thug life.
“I suppose gangs and criminal elements aren’t exactly interested in recruiting the 17-year-old reading Tolstoy on the subway,” I murmured as my continuous internal monologue decided to externalize itself while I was trying specifically to be sneaky.
The carjacker approached the window of the vehicle and glanced back and forth one last time to see if there was anyone watching him – obviously he was bad at this since I was staring directly at him – and produced a tool from inside his jacket to start working at popping the door open. It was at this moment that I decided to make my glorious entrance.
I dropped down from between the two support beams of the floor above where I had been suspending myself for the past half hour to land quietly just out of the range of sight of the carjacker. I walked towards him, stretching my arms and neck as I did so.
“You know, my dad once said that if something can’t be fixed with a wire coat hanger and some duct tape, it can’t be fixed at all,” I said loudly, startling the would-be thief. “That looks like a wire coat hanger you’re holding, but there are a few issues with that whole ‘fixing’ idea: you seem to be missing some duct tape, that car doesn’t look like it needs any fixing, and my dad sucked at engineering.”
“Who the **** do you think you are what the **** do you think you’re doing?”, the thug said in a deep voice as he pulled a handgun out of folds of his jacket.
“I’m a giant pink crayon, and I’m foiling your attempt at a robbery.”
“Like hell you are.”
“Hey man, I’m just like a cookie – I may be bad for your body but that doesn’t mean I’m not good for the soul! Both yours and the city’s of course – oh damn!”
I danced out of the way of a bullet as the thug pulled the trigger.
“Not fair! I didn’t even get a chance to start my music yet!”, I shouted at him as I pulled an earbud out of my pocket and hit play on my playlist, muttering the words to myself.
“Take it back now y’all,” I said, walking back to dodge another shot.
The thug’s expression seemed to darken with confusion and anger as I dodged his next two shots by doing a real smooth cha cha slide. He continued to shoot as I executed my marevelous dance moves, without a single bullet even grazing me, just as I expected.
While I quite enjoyed dodging bullets to DJ Casper’s smooth voice, the carjacker was out of bullets, and I knew that everybody was about to be told to clap their hands, so I ran towards him and, with a swift sidekick to the stomach, knocked him to the ground.
Keeping up with the rhythm, I timed my slaps to his face to the clapping of the song. I’d say it was one of my proudest moments in my entire crime-fighting career unto that point. Once I had thoroughly aggravated the thief, I aimed a punch to his throat that left him rasping for air.
Reaching into my own pockets to pull out a length of rope with which to tie his hands behind his back, I started talking to him.
“I know that one hurt man, but my buddy Bruce said I’d hurt my hand if I kept punching guys in the face, so I’ve been trying out some new techniques. If you could give me a 1 to 5 star rating on my punch location as soon as you’ve got your breath back pal, I’d really appreciate it pal. I don’t want to make my crime fighting any harder than it has to be for you guys. After all, you’re the ones keeping me in business!”, I said as I finished my double knot. I pulled out a second length of rope and tied his legs together as he responded.
“Improve my experience by shutting the hell up next time. I hate chatty people like you.”
I chuckled to myself. “Me, chatty? Oh boy, you really are clueless, man. Maybe if you focused less on trying to kill me you’d really appreciate my personality!”
It was at that moment that I realized it was currently one in the morning on a Thursday, I had school in 6 hours, and I was currently in a parking garage six blocks from home on an adrenaline high from being shot at a dozen times.
“Well, I just realized I gotta finish up here, so do you have anything else to say while I’m here?”
“**** you, **********
I pulled out a Sharpie and a sticky note – the last two things in my pockets. “Typical. I love you too, man. We had some good times tonight, like when you shot at me and I totally impressed you with my awesome dance moves. I’ll miss it. Not so much the getting shot at part but the dancing part. I don’t really do that a whole lot so it was fun to show off a bit, even though you couldn’t appreciate it.” I finished writing ‘BMW BANDIT’ on the sticky note and then solidly attached it to the guy’s forehead. He didn’t say anything else, as with gloved hands I gathered the gun and the tool and placed them in front of him.
“I’ll see you later I guess. Cops’ll be here in two or three minutes. Be safe in jail!” I turned around and started jogging out of the parking garage, going for a whole block before I took off my mask, just to be safe. It was an old mask that wouldn’t look out of place on a Mexican wrestler, but it did its job well for me, even if I had started to gain a reputation among some of the criminals as ‘the ***** with a pink face’. They’re incredibly creative, those criminal underworld types. Anyway, I had worked up a nice sweat by the time I got back home to my apartment. I crept quietly up the stairs to where my family lived and unlocked the door.
My dad was waiting for me in his bathrobe in the living room.
“Where’ve you been? You know its past midnight, right?”
“Yeah Dad, I know. I just was having trouble sleeping again. Nightmares about – well, you know.”
“I know. I just don’t like you sneaking out at night. Where were you?”
“Out for a jog. The night air is cool and the exercise helps me burn some of that nervous energy. I’m sorry I worried you.”
“I understand. Just try to let me know before you go out next time. I only want to know you’re safe.”
“I’ll try to at least leave a note in case you’re sleeping, like tonight.”
“That’s fine. Going to bed now?”
“Yeah. I’m tired and I’ve got a calculus test tomorrow.”
“Alright. I’m heading to bed too. Let me know if you need anything. I love you, good night.”
“Love you too. Good night.”
With that, we went into our separate rooms and I passed out on my bed before I could even wipe the sweat off my face.