“Listen sucker! You don’t intrude my personal time and space and not feel the pain!” He shouted as hate filled his voice, his gold shock with fear, making him look even more menacing.

“You waltz in here, I love to hate you punk, I love it sucker!” He turned his back, the muscle, the stature of this mean meat machine was evident, but he couldn’t walk away; he had to teach this one a real lesson in pain. He turned back to his enemy, the intruder; who was frozen still on the spot.

“It’s time sucker, I’m gonna love this, and you sucker, you’re gonna feel the pain.”  In one almighty swing, his fist slammed through his enemy sending him flying through the air and crashing into the wall, he hit the floor like a dropped sack of potatoes, broken in the middle.

“That’s what you get sucker, this is my space, that’s what intruders get sucker.” With out even batting an eye lid the man straightened his Mohawk up and sat back in the small flowery chair on the other side of the room, poured himself a glass of milk and went back to watching his favourite show, The A Team. 

After a few hours of back to back episodes the man heard a key in the door, he jumped towards his enemy to dispose of the body but it was too late. He’d been caught. The eyes of the woman standing before him filled with hate, how could he explain; he stared at her blankly.  Slowly she spoke.

“Norman, that vacuum cleaner was the only thing my mother left me, all I wanted was a clean lounge.”