Ludwig Beilschmidt

Today I ended up getting unexpectedly violent with a flaming douche up the street. A boy my age was bullying a kid in a wheelchair. So I stepped in for the boy and we exchanged some dialogue

Me: "How would you feel in you were in his situation? Trust me, being in a wheelchair isn't fun."

Him: "Hey, stop off, Mohawk. This ain't no one of your f@#kin' business."

Me: "Him being handicapped is none of your business. Now you step off and apologize, or we're gonna have a problem."

Him: "Nigga, you ain't gon' do a damn thing."

Me: "Care to test that theory?"

The dialogue ended there, and he threw a sloppy right cross. I caught it, spun him around and bent him over, then kneed him in the ribs, followed by a double-fist punch to the jaw. He got up rather slowly, worked some oxygen back into his lungs, and lunged at me again. I batted his fist away and caught him in a vicegrip sleeper hold. By this time, the boy I was defending got the hint to go home, and just before he disappeared around the corner, which was about 20 seconds, I let the bully go, and he dropped, gasping for breath. I thought about knocking him out, but decided to be merciful and leave him there since he wasn't my problem, so I went home. Thinking back on it, I'm glad my dad taught me CQC.