California Dreamin'

Who the hell are you? he said.
Your baby's daddy, bro. I said.
Get the hell out of that bed.
Hey, su casa mi casa, am I right?

He rips the blanket off of me and jumps on the bed. He proceeds to mount me and deliver punches to my face. Stacy, his girlfriend who he walked in on us, is slowly watching her boyfriend mounting a man and delivering blows to his face. Call that a relationship.

I swear to god, he said, I'll rip your head off!

He continues to punch me in the face, blood flowing everywhere. I barely managed to get my hand covered in the blood. Three punches, more blood. Four more punches, more blood. After the next seven hits, I roll to the ground, my face in a puddle of blood. He jumps down and kicks me in the stomach.

When tries for the second time, I hook his leg and trip him. The guy flops on me like he's part of the Miami Heat. A few punches to my stomach followed, then a knee to my groin. He sat on top of me and laughed. I wipe my hand on my face, and it is covered with blood. I send my palm up to his face, rubbing of his mouth and getting under his eyelids.

His body slams to the side, hands over his face. He starts flopping around like a fish, and it makes me burst out into laughter.The scared cheater naked in the bed, a guy rolling around screaming, and a bloody psychopath laughing crazily. This sounds about normal.

I'm going to kill you! He screamed.
Not today, I laughed.

I walk over to the flounder and punt him in the gut, causing him to release another scream. It goes like this for three minutes.Once my shoe gets covered in blood, I stop and take it off. I toss it to the side and continued to kick some more. For some odd reason, he still is attempting to fight back. I roll him so he lies on his stomach. I take a deep breath, a roll of the wrist, and jump.

When I land on him, there is a brief second where I'm balanced on him.The next, he decides to roll over. It sends me mid-air, and ends with my head slamming into the ground. I fall onto a blood soaked carpet, ruining my, I meant his, white shirt.

We both lay on the ground, my legs being supported by his body. This happens for three minutes, until I get up. She stares at my blood covered body.

What are you doing later tomorrow? She asked.
Going to snort coke and watch Jerry Springer.
So, 3 would be a good time to come over?
Yep.

I limp to the bathroom and washed myself up. My nose appears to be broken, but I can fix that up later. There is spots of blood on my forehead, going up to my hairline. I dump my face into the water filled sink, washing my face. While underwater,"September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire starts playing. I take my head out to see I just received a text.

From: Nathaniel
Yo bro u need 2 get 2 d justice hall rite now! srs shit gon down rite now!

After finishing the crudely written text, I rush and put on my clothes. Since my shirt is soaking up the blood, I will take one of the guy's shirts. I walk over to his dresser and look at his shirts. I pick out a Grateful Dead shirt, put it on, and rush out.

The sun has yet to shine. I walk down the sidewalk, cars passing by staring at me. It is about a 16 minute walk until I get to the bus stop. To my surprise, there are two people sitting there for the 5:00 bus. A poorly dressed bum and a business woman sit there, looking blankly across the street. I sit awkwardly next to the bum. He turns,

My name is Joseph Ventura, he said, and I'm a soap salesman. You are?
Abcd Fastabend, I say, Governor of California.