Week 23: Assaulted

Guess what...It's Karl again! I know you're as excited about reading this as I am to write it. To change things up a bit, I'm going to start with the word/words of the week.

Word of the Week

This is a two word Word of the Week.

Winge and Sook

These words are interchangeable, and they are often used together...often times they are.
Winge is used to describe people who whine and complain a whole lot. Winging is the verb form of the word winge. Someone could also be described as wingey. So, to review (and clarify), you can be a winge, you can be wingey, or you might start winging. Got it? Good.

Sook rhymes with cook. Sook is also used to describe someone who complains alot. It just doesn't have as many forms as winge. Sook is the only form that the word comes in...Kinda like the word deer. haha.

So, now that you know the defintions of these words, you are probably dying to figure out how they go together. Well, it's easy. If anyone has spent more than 2 hours with Brittney, you know that she can be a wingey sook. But no one could ever say that about me.

On with the show...

OK, OK...I know I'm supposed to write something crazy since I haven't written you guys in a while, but I don't have anything except the truth. So...not much has happened since our return from Sydney. We've had friends from home get married, others get engaged, and one unexpected friend even has a girl friend...from the sounds of it, she's the girl of his dreams. But since I don't want to jinx him, I'm not going to mention his name. Besides that Brittney is STILL bruised from paintballing, and I'm still pushing trolleys. As far as football goes, our team played really well this weekend...we tied the undefeated Warriors of Nunawading 6-6. Good luck pronouncing it because I'm not sure I even have it right yet. I have a little story to tell you guys, but I have two rules that you must follow while you're reading this: disregard grammar and believe everything that you read.

So........

Moments before I finished my shift pushing trolleys, an elderly woman with an arm full of groceries proceeds to walk down the sidewalk at a slow pace, to say the least. As she moves towards her destination, this little old lady of about 85 years begins to drop her groceries unknowingly.

Since all of the trolleys are put inside, for the most part, and I have some time to kill, I decided that I could be of help. I'm a young, strong, American male, of course I can be of help. I figure this way I can make myself feel good, help a little old lady with her groceries, and at the same time give the United States a good name (even though she'll probably think I'm Canadian).

So I approach the old lady, picking up her groceries as I go, and I say to her, "Can I help you with these ma'am?" She turns to me with a smile and keeps walking without saying a word. I kept following her picking up her groceries along the way. Eventually, I was carrying all but one bag. We finally reached her car. She must have parked in the farthest spot from the entrance of the store, but at least she wasn't parked next to anyone. As we reached her car, she unlocked it, opened the door, and she proceeded to put her one bag in her car. She must have forgotten that I was helping her because she closed the door before I could even attempt to put my bags in. When she turned around, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Scared the shit out of me.

Like I said, she must have forgotten that I was helping her. She slapped me once across the face and kicked me in the shin. I was surprised that she could even pick her foot up, let alone kick me. The woman shuffled the entire way to her car for crying out loud. Anyways, I finally calmed her down and reminded her that I was trying to help her. She held her hand over her chest and began to laugh hysterically. So I'm standing there with a couple handfuls of groceries and an old woman laughing at me.

As I stood there with my mouth hanging open, I felt something poke me in the back. Before I could turn around, I was yanked into the back of a van by two mammoth sized men. As they proceeded to throw me into the van my head not only hit off the top of the van, but it hit the hard metal floor as my head snapped back upon landing. As the van drives off, I'm dazed and confused. A sliding window from the front opens up, and I can't make out what the men are screaming at me because of all the commotion. Besides that they were speaking Australian. With feces running down my leg, I begin to scream at the top of my lungs "I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE SAYING! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING!? STOP YELLING!"

At that moment, all of the noise ceased and a shotgun reared its head through the sliding window. I heard a voice from the front seat very calmly say, "Tell us what you reckon you saw, mate." As the urine stained my pants, I began to tremble (it was just too warm). I said, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Watch your language," the man with the shotgun said. "WHAT DID YOU SEE!?"

I had a hiccup in my voice now, trying to hold back my tears and I said, "I didn't see anything, sir. I promise. Please spare me, I just got married, and I'm here in Australia with my wife, and she's pregnant." I don't know what the heck made me say it, but it must have worked. The shotgun backed out of the sliding window and the window closed.

With laughter coming from the front seat, the van proceeded to move along its path. We drove for about 15 minutes before the ride got bumpy. I had calmed down until this point. The driver slammed on the breaks, and suddenly the front doors slammed. Not long after, the back doors opened up. There were three of them, but I couldn't make out their faces since it was dark. All I could see is that all of them were much bigger than me. Two of them grabbed me, pulled me out of the van, and slammed me into a tree. No, they did not ask me to squeal like a pig...they told me to. Just kidding. So, I'm standing there face to face with the masked men. Two of them were holding me against the tree and the third approached slowly with his head lowered. As he got about an inch or two from my face, he slowly raised his head and said, "I'm going to ask you one more tiome noicely, mate. What did you see?"

With tears filling my eyes and the lights of the van shining brightly on my face, I very calmly took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. I said to him, "I don't know what you're talking about, mate." I don't know what made the word "mate" come out of my mouth, but it did. He hit me once in the face, and the other two each took a shot to my stomach. They held me up one last time. The third one got in my face and whispered, "No worries, mate." And they ran off.

I was dazed and confused, and I didn't get a license plate. I began walking back towards the city lights. It just so happened that I was about a 20 minutes walk from our dorm. I walked in unscathed besides the fact that I literally smelled like piss and shit (excuse my language). One of the guys in the dorm walked past but didn't seem to notice that my manhood had just been taken. I walked into the room, and, as usual, Brittney was sitting on the bed crying. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, "My period is on time."

Thanks for reading,

Karl