It feels good to kick ass

It’s 3:00AM Christmas night. The festivities were good and my boyfriend and I laid in bed trying to get to sleep. Suddenly a crashing sound … like a derailing freight train filled my ears. I got up and walked towards the kitchen only to see a hammer smash through the window … then an axe handle rolled around the edges of the window frame. “What?” I asked myself … “We are being robbed!”

“Eddie wake up!” I yelled. My boyfriend jumped to his feet switching on the lights. A lone figure, wearing a ski mask and carrying a hammer and axe handle, leaped in through our kitchen window. Immediately he threw the hammer at me. I ducked as the hammer crashed in to the wall … then he began to swing the axe handle. He caught me in the arm and Eddie in the shoulder. I tried to grab the handle from him, but he was too fast. I noticed two more figures standing just outside the window. I didn’t know what the plans were for us, but suddenly I felt fear flush over me like a cold washcloth.

I must have struck him with that hammer twenty times, using all of my might.

Eddie ran to the living room and grabbed the phone to call 911 … I yelled to him to grab the hammer laying on the ground but he did not hear me. I don’t know what happened to me. The rush of adrenaline, the sweat on my forehead, the absolute fear that we may be killed gripped me like a claw. Did the guys outside the window have guns? Were they coming in next? Everything slowed … my senses, my vision – the room started looking like a black and white dime cinema. I don’t know what came over me … I grabbed the hammer, turned to the intruder and charged him. He went to swing at me with the axe handle but I was too fast. I swung the hammer at his face with all my force, but he ducked and crouched into a ball. Eddie saw my attack and followed grabbing a steel barstool we had just received for Christmas. I pounded him in the back of the neck with the hammer, and every time I reached up collecting my strength, Eddie struck him on the head with the barstool. After Eddies first blow the ski mask pulled down over his eyes. Now our assailant could not see. Like a beggar on his knees he tried swinging the axe handle from his position on the ground, but without any leverage or strength, I easily disarmed him. I must have struck him with that hammer twenty times, using all of my might. Eddie’s blows met him also and soon the ski mask lay on the floor. The intruder tried to crawl up under the dining room table, but Eddie grabbed his leg and pulled him out. I was so frantic I began to yell “Tonight you’re gonna die mother fucker!” his eyes widened. The new barstool was now bent into a piece of nouveau art, and my hands were bruised and sore from the shock of the hammer. Every time the intruder tried to get up I lunged him against the wall where Eddie’s barstool met with his head. The entire process seemed like an eternity but I know lasted only a few moments.

The intruder used what must have been his last reserve of strength to run to the window from which he came, diving through it like Pete Rose for Home base. Beaten, he couldn’t make it out on his own. His two companions tried to pull him out, but Eddie and I each had one of his legs. “Oh no …. motherfucker … you broke into the wrong Goddamned house tonight!” I yelled like a mad woman. The rage I felt was enormous, and I spat with each word. One of the other intruders lunged a metal poker through the window at me , but I grabbed it and yanked on it hard, disarming him. With that move, our burglar managed to escape – his friends pulling him through the broken window frame over the broken shards of glass. They fled down the street like insolent children being called home for dinner. Breathing heavily and shaking with anger, I surveyed the room.

There was broken glass, a smashed barstool, a ski mask, a hammer, an axe handle and a metal poker scattered about our living room and kitchen. The intruder who attempted to steal, rape, kill whatever, had been disarmed, beaten, and defeated. His companions shocked. Eddie said that I looked like a crazed psychopath during the entire event. I picked up his ski mask and clutched it in my hand as the sound of sirens and flashes of blue light filtered in through the broken window. I couldn’t believe what we had done. Looking back now it must have seemed like some kind of Cohen Brothers’ comedy, but that night was scary as hell. And I sure wasn’t going to meet my demise without a fight. However after all is said and done, and we are both safe and uninjured, I can truly say that it feels good to kick ass!

Tiffany Trout See all posts by Tiffany
is a BADASSCHICK Magazine™ contributor and definitely an ass-kicker
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