It all started last night, when a friend and I were walking back to my place after a night on the town. Being hardy, brave souls, we thought nothing of turning down that darkened alley, a shortcut home.
The walls muffled all sound but soon I detected the merest hint of movement. I could not discern a source or direction. My friend and I barely had time to exchange apprehensive looks before they dropped into sight. There must have been twenty of them, the stealthy bastards. Ninjas to our left, to our right, before and behind us.
In a split second I recalled my year of tae kwon do training, the carefully studied fight scenes on Buffy... I sprang into action! My friend went down at the first punch and cowered by the wall, paralysed by pain and fear. It was up to me to get us out of this!
Suddenly, I became as though possessed. Punches and kicks flying, I made my way through the black-clad pack. The few who were left standing, ran.
I shook off the rage which had possessed me, grabbed my buddy and we ran all the way to my apartment. It wasn't until the adrenaline wore off that I felt the pain in my foot.
And that, my friends, is how I ended up in the E.R. today. I am now hobbling around on crutches with a sprained ankle. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.