Blood and Tears

A new incident in which I didn't get involved! This starts on the night before Halloween, which is a massive party night in any location. Being located next to a college, this meant hilariously drunken people running around all night. My roommates, as they often do, got involved in the festivities and drank to excess. I had work, so I was late in getting home to join them in drinking. My arrival was timely, for the true amusement of the night had yet to begin.

Now, as a slight back track, we had been moved into our current house for about 3 months. Being lazy as shit, we still hadn't cleared everything out from the previous occupants. Said occupants has basically turned the house into a slum by the time we began looking for a new place. We happened to strike up a conversation with the owner, and he was fine with letting us inspect the house unannounced (we were able to because one of the people living there was vengeful, and gave permission to visit). This was a decently large house, but the interior was a shithole. There were 3 large dogs living in the house, which has no yard. The carpet was stained with dog piss on a majority of the coverage, and in one room a dog was in a cage filled with shit. In another room, another mongrel was locked inside with a half eaten mattress. Half the doors were broken down, and glass had been knocked out. Needless to say, the owner promptly evicted the renters, and gave us the house. This worked out because he completely redid the interior during the summer months, and with fresh new carpet and most other things, we moved in late august.

The key thing from this is that the previous occupants left a large media center with glass panels. We had not moved it, and it took up a ton of space in our entry hall. Not entirely ominous, but it was a distraction. Of course, upon passing it to go to the outer deck, I beheld one roommate in just a speedo with sunglasses on, and another using my sweet Kenny Powers hat. These two specimens of alcoholism were hollering at the women passing by who chose to be scantily clad. They also confided that they might have made comments to the mothers of children who were trick or treating earlier in the eve, being classy gents. I chose to spend some time relaxing with them, and then learned that the fat one had chugged the remaining 3/4s of a bottle of vodka. This is of course the point where one must go "whelp."

His good humor lessened, and slowly he became irate. He started calling the passing females skanks, whores, and other colorful terms. However, this did not lessen his fury. Luckily, the object of his anger was in fact inanimate. It so happened the poor item of his ire turned out to be the 100 pound media center. He swelled up and uttered "I'm gonna take that fucking shit out, its fucking been there since we got here." So over he went, with my less inebriated roommate and me grinning, and watched as he huffed in struggle to lift the monstrosity. To his credit he made progress, but alas the doorway proved to be a difficult proposition. He came upon brilliance and simply heaved it out the door, and it fell. As I said earlier, it had two very large glass panes, and these shattered. With the deck full of glass shards, and the piece of furniture being treacherous to grasp, one would think my roommate would be done. No, the shattering only fueled his rage and he began heaving it towards the steps off the porch. He had in his anger ignored the fact that glass remained attached, and that it was very jagged. He grabbed the portions with glass still attached, and blood spilled out from his hands.

Being bloodied did nothing to impede him, and he hurled the wooden abomination down the steps. And he began gleefully destroying it, exacting what I thought to be revenge for the offense of sitting and gathering dust. It was one sided, and wood littered the yard in a few short minutes. At this point, he noticed the blood streaming down, and simply ripped his shirt in half and tied off the damage. He was drunk, injured, but all together proud of his deed.

Unfortunately, the night was still young and he was still very drunk.

(will finish the rest in a bit)

Part 2: The funny thing with injured drunks is that their solution to injuries is to drink more booze. Falling in stride with those great inebriated idiots before him, my roommate drank more. And as he kept drinking, his rage started to simmer. There was only so much satisfaction he could gain from bashing the corpse of the entertainment stand. His anger drifted towards the two observers of his antics, speedo roommate and myself. Cursing, he started accusing us of backstabbing him, and causing his bleeding hands. Regrettably, he smeared his blood all over the interior of the house in his ramblings. He soon lost a direct focus for his anger, so we (the non drunks) retired upstairs to go to bed.

Wisely locking both our doors, it should have ended there. Of course it didn't end, and the bloody drunken idiot burst into action. Bellowing his grievances against my roommate, he began pounding his door to seek a confrontation. He slammed his fist into cheap wood for about a good 10 minutes, until it relented. The wood cracked, and my roommate's door now had a good foot wide hole in his door. The speedo roommate burst from his room and gave the argument the drunk was seeking. The actual contents of the argument are lost to my memory, but they weren't important. What was crucial was this argument found its way up stairs to my door. The curses escalated, and a punch was thrown by the anger fueled drunk. Now, my speedo wearing roommate is a bit of a gym rat and ripped as hell. His response was to forcibly pitch the fat drunk down the stairs into a wall at the bottom.

The tumble he took was pretty brutal, and he ended up with his back slumped against the wall. Instead of his deep pitched yell, the sound that left his mouth was a high pictched scream. As soon as he uttered this wail, the tears came. And after these tears came sobs, then he started bawling. I kid you not, I've never seen someone cry as pathetically and emphatically as this guy. In addition to the tears, he started screaming in between sobs how he couldn't feel his arm. He was convinced my roommate had paralyzed just his arm.

Both of us kinda freaked over the blubbering mess at the bottom of the stairs. There was a solid chance he was actually injured, and for all the faults of my roommates they do come through when it gets serious. Unfortunately, it was hard to take our overweight friend seriously because his shirt had slid up and his belly was hanging over his pants. And it was jiggling every time he uttered a desperate cry. The image was one of the more amusing things engraved in my brain. After taking the time to collect ourselves, we came down to figure out what to do. The apparently crippled mess wanted to call 911 and get taken to the damn ER. We mentioned calling up his mother to figure out what to do, and as soon as this happened he stopped crying. He got up, moved his arm, and in all seriousness said "Guys, don't call my mom." After uttering this, he promptly flopped back into position and resumed crying full blast.

What. The. Fuck. He was faking the entire damn thing, and at this point it was enough. We left him in that stairwell, and went to our respective rooms. For a solid hour, he screamed for help about his paralyzed arm. When he finally realized he wasn't getting attention, he stopped crying and walked right to his bed like nothing happened. It was strange in that his sobbing was full blown and very real.

The follow up is to this day we have glass shards in our grass. My roommate's door still has a hole in it. And finally, there is a video of some of this, and I will attempt to find it for your viewing pleasure.