A little over 8 years ago, a friend of mine, L (name redacted)
was hit by her scum-bucket boyfriend. It
wasn’t the first time he’d hit her, but it was the first time he’d hit her in
front of her best friend J. (name also redacted.) J objected to the abuse, you might say she
objected violently to the abuse (which is one of the reasons why the names are
redacted even if the statute of limitations should be up.)
After scum-bucket had fled the scene, J decided that L needed some more support, so she called every women she knew. Everyone available showed up to L’s apartment
with weapons and booze. Imagine if you will, around 30 women stuffed into a one-bedroom apartment comforting L and
passing around the drinks when someone spots scum-bucket’s car pulling into the
parking lot.
It was decided that a few ladies would stay in the apartment
with L while the rest of us when downstairs to confront scum-bucket and prevent
him from entering the building.
Now all of us ladies at that time happened to belong to the same theater group that
specialized in swashbuckling plays, lots of sword fights and the like. So, when I say we brought weapons, I mean we
brought things like broadswords, battleaxes, crossbows, rapiers and like.
So, scum-bucket gets out of his car and starts walking
across the parking lot only to spot 25 or so heavily armed women marching out
of the building, raising their weapons and charging at him while screeching
like furies.
Scum-bucket had a pretty good sense of self-preservation and
the sight of us was inspiring. He ran
back to the car and peeled out of the parking light like the hounds of hell
were at his heels and I suppose we were.
Anyhow, L never heard from him again. Eventually, she and J started dating and they’ll
have been married for 5 years next September.
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Where did the party go?
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Far Too Young To Die
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