I'm a faggot

Today I was standing on the corner of the sidewalk waiting for the light to change so I could cross an intersection. I see a raggedy, Mick Foley-looking homeless walking towards me, but he's walking in the street, against traffic.

He's wearing a navy blue jacket, and his arms aren't in the sleeves, and it's zipped up completely. Well, I assume he had arms. It looked like there were arms in his jacket. He gets up to me, turns and faces me. There isn't anyone else near me.

He tilts his head, and I try not to make eye contact, because he looks homeless and therefore I'm better than him. I don't make eye contact with anyone I'm better than. The light still hasn't turned, and he's just looking at me, head still tilted. He's about eight feet in front of me, at most.

Then he says something in a really soft-spoken voice. It was either "Hi" or "Huh?" I don't answer, the light changes and I walk across the street. As I get up to him he looks at me and says "Faggot," but in that really soft-spoken voice. I didn't know what to do, so I beat him. I took off my belt and went to town on him. People rushed over to see what was going on, but once they saw me wailing on Dude Love they were like "Keep it going man!" One guy tossed me a steel chair, so I tossed it to the homeless guy, who idiotically caught it up against his face, perfect positioning for my drop kick. Then I lifted up a manhole cover and took out a baseball bat wrapped with barbwire. I hit him a few times with it, drawing blood. It would've felt great, except the whole time the Cactus Jack was smiling. It was odd.

Then I saw some guy in a name tag who was named Devon, so I yelled "Devon, get the table!" He ran into the diner and dragged out a table that was clearly in use. I took a bite of a burger, then I swiped everything off the table and placed the homeless guy on. Ride Aid was luckily on fire, so a firetruck was there with it's ladder fully extended. I climbed up the ladder, onto the Rite Aid and gave him the Swanton Bomb. Unfortunately the table was from a dinner, and had only one huge leg in the center of the table, thus is didn't break. That part hurt.

A guy ran up from behind me and tapped on my shoulder. "Dude," he yelled frantically, "what the hell? What's wrong with you? Have you just been watching wrestling videos on Youtube all day?" I told him to fuck off. He punched me. He punched me again. And a third time. I bent over, and things started getting a little blurry. He punched me a fourth time, but I shook it off. He punched me again and I didn't even flinch. Another time I shook my head back and forth and pointed at him. He took a few steps back, and the crowd watching us went crazy. I threw him to my right, and a few people caught him and threw him back at me. I lifted up my right leg and connected. Hit him right in the nose. Just as I was telling the audience I couldn't hear them by putting my hand up to my ear, the homeless guy hit my kidneys with a sledgehammer.

I fell to the ground. He ran into a stationary store and came back out with a pack of thumbtacks. He poured them on the ground and lifted me up. He then hoisted me up and turned my upside, prepping for a body slam, but I shimmied up and over him and gave him a reverse DDT. That's right, face first into the tacks. He screamed and blood started squirting out of him. Not pouring, but squirting. The people up front loved it and started chanting "Gall-a-gher! Gall-a-gher! Gall-a-gher!"

I took it as an insult. I charged the crowd, armed with nothing but a sledgehammer and the head of a mannequin. I started wailing on people. I dropped the head for a second, and took a two-handed swing of the sledgehammer, knocking out about five people at once. Some people charged from behind, so I turned around and did the same. I kept spinning and swinging, and for reason, people kept charging at me. Soon enough, I was the only one standing, surrounded by a sea of bodies and blood. It smelled really bad.

I started to walk away, then from behind me I heard someone say in a what can best be described as their inside voice, "Faggot." I turned and there was the homeless guy, still looking at me with his head tilted. He held his stare, I started one and we locked eyes, motionless. It felt like we were there hours, when it was probably just closer to 30 minutes.

Then we walked towards one another. He once again called me a "faggot." I told him it was an inappropriate thing to call someone, and quite frankly, pretty rude. He said it again. I took a step back, bringing my right arm with me and then shot it forward.

Right before contact, I stuck out my right index finger, tapping him on the chest. I covered him up, a guy working at Foot Locker ran outside and counted.

1...

2...

3!

He lifted my arm. Just as I was about to grab the mic and talk shit to the champion, as I was now the number-one contender for his belt, a cop came. He arrested me for holding up traffic. I opted to use one one phone call on a blog post instead, because cops are really tech-friendly. I'm hoping they let me out in time to hit up Raw on Monday.