Smack Down

As I innocently strolled out of a bustling shopping mall where I helped surprise a friend for her birthday, I saw the man. I saw the man in the printed shirt that looked as if a child had taken paint and just went to town on it. My thought was (you guessed it), “What are this?” I probably wouldn’t have remembered the man if that shirt were not freshly imprinted on my mind.

My friends and I walked to our vehicles and as we had journeyed about a hundred feet from the mall door, we heard the commotion. Loud yelling. A wide array of cuss words. “F” bombs being dropped like flies.

As we turned to see what all the hubbub was about, we noticed that a car had pulled up to the man in the funky shirt… and the man in the funky shirt was getting the be-jesus beaten out of him by a much larger man. The big guy just kept throwin’ punches and droppin’ bombs. Eventually a woman – whom I perceive was having a relationship with both Funky Shirt and Big Guy – tried to get between them and alleviate the ruckus but was not having success. Finally, Big Guy decided to pick up Funky Shirt and sling him onto the pavement.

At that point, I was in such a state of shock that I really don’t remember what happened. What I do know is that one of my friends kept saying, “Look away! Look away!” Well I just couldn’t. It was like watching train wreck. Meanwhile a mall cop drove by at the other end of the parking lot, completely oblivious to the whole situation. The fight ended soon after the smack down and I truly hope no one was badly injured. Although I will say that was better than watching professional wrestling and far-more believable.

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