Friday, 9 November 2012

Fight night

I was in a tiny pub that was the size of normal living room and was packed full of drinkers.
It was in this cozy environment that two of the patrons decided to settle their argument about whether or not leather dungarees on men were fashionable by having a fist fight.

I decided to leave just as the one in the brown leather dungarees was knocked out by the winner of the argument.

I was then walking along a road in the Essex town of Dagenham and noticed all the footpaths had huge holes in them. A family of four were franticly attempting to fill the holes with concrete.
Across the road I saw two lads having a fight. I ran over to intervene at the same time that Siobhan and Emily arrived to do the same.
Every time we pulled them apart, they attempted to punch one and other again. Eventually we sent them their separate ways.

Lastly I had infiltrated a drug den in the hope to bust a trafficking ring.
I sat nervously waiting for the police to raid the house as two men with guns sat watching me.

I woke this morning still waiting, unaware if I was saved or shot.

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