Benevolent Christians Get Mugged
Confuzor
Join Date: 2002-11-01 Member: 2412Awaiting Authorization
Join Date: 2002-11-01 Member: 2412Awaiting Authorization
<div class="IPBDescription">That includes me!</div> <span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>True Story:</span>
At dusk of the last hour of nine, a worship service I had amongst commrades in an elementary school park. A group of nine were we, approximately, and we sat to engage to some chit-chat and snack. The lot of us, all pupils of university, made merry around a campfire of glowing cell phones, atop a kiddie fortress of wood.
All went well for a time, until our lively talk was barged by youthful hooligans, dressed in stereotypical urban hop-hop attire. They numbered greater than nine, I think, (regardless of number, outnumbered were we). For some time unbeknownst of our presence, the unruly bunch entertained themselves how unruly bunches usually do: aimless cussing, alcohol consumption, wanton destruction of beer bottles, and the gift of lethargy from their cannabis.
Unabashed, we continued our silent worship, but eventually, it was time to go. Our departure from the fortress was then noticed by the unruly bunch, who slowly made their way towards us, offering their merchandise of weed, even exhaling a puff for us to sample. We made friendly salutations, and declined their merchandise. They in turn requested for the junk food we carried, and we nervously obliged.
Following their fill of carbohydrates, the situation rapidly grew decadent, and pleasantries were ceased as they demanded of the monies from our purses. They blocked the path of our group, (save one girl, whose stealth provided for her escape and call for help), and began a series of shoving, but most dreadful of all was the fiend who flashed us his pocket blade.
Their lust for green was ravenous, so much so that in one case, THEY DEMANDED FOR THE WALLET OF MY FRIEND WHOSE WALLET THEY ALREADY TOOK. Not trusting us to actually give them the money, they shoved to actually take hold of our wallets. I was fortunate in not having had mine.
“Give me your ****ing wallet.”
“Good sir, a man’s purse I do not have. I have in my possession but my dwelling key. Shall such a trinket appease your thievish desires?”<span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>1</span>
“I don’t want your ****ing key, I want your ****ing wallet.”
A quick tap of my pocket confirmed that no lies poured from my mouth, and the brute set upon those whom he might have better luck upon… bastard.
I did my best to acquire the visage of the rapscallions before their escape, which was prompted by the sound of a siren. Like light to cockroaches, the rapscallions fled, and we were left, a few dollars poorer.
To the deputies we did ring, and our cell phones they did bring. By their aid, lost wallets were found, albeit less heavy and less pounds.<span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>2</span> Eyewitness accounts we put with the pen, when the men of blue left, we returned to our church again.
A prayer was said, thanksgiving of our safe return.
And to the criminals, we asked they be burned
through the fires of government sanctioned correction
for the sake of public protection
Nay, I jest! For though I would truly like to see them caught
It is for the purpose of reform
So to society they will conform
1 - Not be taken as the accurate response I provided.
2 - Actually, we live in Canada, but I needed a currency that rhymed, because I pretend to be cool, and fail miserably.
<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>Reflections:</span>
- I really take safety for granted, and even after tonight, I still am, which kind of disturbs me. While my best friend’s theory (who had it worst than most in my fellowship) seems to be true (that they just wanted money and avoided at all costs to do something ‘REAL’ stupid), the sense of confidence that still lingers in my mind with regards to how relatively well the situation turned out is unnerving.
- I really wish I could go back and recite some lines from Jules (Pulp Fiction); though I guess they wouldn’t carry much weight without a pistol. But really, these guys were pathetic.
- My friend thinks that one of the guys he saw was actually went to our former high school (probably just a grade below us). It would be awesome to look him up in the yearbook, get a hold of his phone number, then drop him some cryptic calls from a phone booth, possibly mind-**** him into turning himself to authorities.
- My visual observation & memory skills are atrocious, and I want to improve them. I had already realized this about a month or two ago, when I realized how dependent I was on using references to do any sort of half decent drawing. I asked one of the police officers afterwards whether he knew any exercises that could help improve this skill, to which he replied that there’s not really much one can do. He mentioned that in cases of extreme stress, such as this one, its hard to remember what’s going on. The thing is, however, I didn’t feel very stressed; I actually felt relatively calm, and into a minute of the hostilities, I told myself, “Okay, pay attention to how these thugs look, and remember them.” I only managed to poorly remember two of the thugs. Argh - can anyone think of how I can approve this attribute? (i.e., can I 'develop' a photographic memory, or is that just a gift that certain people are 'born' with?)
- On a more dark note, when the idea that one of my friends might actually get stabbed by the knife-welding goon occurred to me in those few tense minutes, I thought, “I’m going to pound that SOB.” Now I’m nowhere near being buff, I’m rather pretty scrawny, and the odds would be most dire on my behalf. Most likely situation: I’d be frozen from shock. But if I didn’t, I would of just leapt at the goon, maybe try biting his face. I can get pretty insane when I’m mad, evidence of this from dealings with my dad.
- Praise be to God.
At dusk of the last hour of nine, a worship service I had amongst commrades in an elementary school park. A group of nine were we, approximately, and we sat to engage to some chit-chat and snack. The lot of us, all pupils of university, made merry around a campfire of glowing cell phones, atop a kiddie fortress of wood.
All went well for a time, until our lively talk was barged by youthful hooligans, dressed in stereotypical urban hop-hop attire. They numbered greater than nine, I think, (regardless of number, outnumbered were we). For some time unbeknownst of our presence, the unruly bunch entertained themselves how unruly bunches usually do: aimless cussing, alcohol consumption, wanton destruction of beer bottles, and the gift of lethargy from their cannabis.
Unabashed, we continued our silent worship, but eventually, it was time to go. Our departure from the fortress was then noticed by the unruly bunch, who slowly made their way towards us, offering their merchandise of weed, even exhaling a puff for us to sample. We made friendly salutations, and declined their merchandise. They in turn requested for the junk food we carried, and we nervously obliged.
Following their fill of carbohydrates, the situation rapidly grew decadent, and pleasantries were ceased as they demanded of the monies from our purses. They blocked the path of our group, (save one girl, whose stealth provided for her escape and call for help), and began a series of shoving, but most dreadful of all was the fiend who flashed us his pocket blade.
Their lust for green was ravenous, so much so that in one case, THEY DEMANDED FOR THE WALLET OF MY FRIEND WHOSE WALLET THEY ALREADY TOOK. Not trusting us to actually give them the money, they shoved to actually take hold of our wallets. I was fortunate in not having had mine.
“Give me your ****ing wallet.”
“Good sir, a man’s purse I do not have. I have in my possession but my dwelling key. Shall such a trinket appease your thievish desires?”<span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>1</span>
“I don’t want your ****ing key, I want your ****ing wallet.”
A quick tap of my pocket confirmed that no lies poured from my mouth, and the brute set upon those whom he might have better luck upon… bastard.
I did my best to acquire the visage of the rapscallions before their escape, which was prompted by the sound of a siren. Like light to cockroaches, the rapscallions fled, and we were left, a few dollars poorer.
To the deputies we did ring, and our cell phones they did bring. By their aid, lost wallets were found, albeit less heavy and less pounds.<span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>2</span> Eyewitness accounts we put with the pen, when the men of blue left, we returned to our church again.
A prayer was said, thanksgiving of our safe return.
And to the criminals, we asked they be burned
through the fires of government sanctioned correction
for the sake of public protection
Nay, I jest! For though I would truly like to see them caught
It is for the purpose of reform
So to society they will conform
1 - Not be taken as the accurate response I provided.
2 - Actually, we live in Canada, but I needed a currency that rhymed, because I pretend to be cool, and fail miserably.
<span style='font-size:14pt;line-height:100%'>Reflections:</span>
- I really take safety for granted, and even after tonight, I still am, which kind of disturbs me. While my best friend’s theory (who had it worst than most in my fellowship) seems to be true (that they just wanted money and avoided at all costs to do something ‘REAL’ stupid), the sense of confidence that still lingers in my mind with regards to how relatively well the situation turned out is unnerving.
- I really wish I could go back and recite some lines from Jules (Pulp Fiction); though I guess they wouldn’t carry much weight without a pistol. But really, these guys were pathetic.
- My friend thinks that one of the guys he saw was actually went to our former high school (probably just a grade below us). It would be awesome to look him up in the yearbook, get a hold of his phone number, then drop him some cryptic calls from a phone booth, possibly mind-**** him into turning himself to authorities.
- My visual observation & memory skills are atrocious, and I want to improve them. I had already realized this about a month or two ago, when I realized how dependent I was on using references to do any sort of half decent drawing. I asked one of the police officers afterwards whether he knew any exercises that could help improve this skill, to which he replied that there’s not really much one can do. He mentioned that in cases of extreme stress, such as this one, its hard to remember what’s going on. The thing is, however, I didn’t feel very stressed; I actually felt relatively calm, and into a minute of the hostilities, I told myself, “Okay, pay attention to how these thugs look, and remember them.” I only managed to poorly remember two of the thugs. Argh - can anyone think of how I can approve this attribute? (i.e., can I 'develop' a photographic memory, or is that just a gift that certain people are 'born' with?)
- On a more dark note, when the idea that one of my friends might actually get stabbed by the knife-welding goon occurred to me in those few tense minutes, I thought, “I’m going to pound that SOB.” Now I’m nowhere near being buff, I’m rather pretty scrawny, and the odds would be most dire on my behalf. Most likely situation: I’d be frozen from shock. But if I didn’t, I would of just leapt at the goon, maybe try biting his face. I can get pretty insane when I’m mad, evidence of this from dealings with my dad.
- Praise be to God.
Comments
Our church smallgroup had fellowship at a park this night. Teenage goons mugged us, one had a knife.
The End.
and gleefully their hands did rubbe,
in expectation of revelries,
for t'was the hour known as "happy."
Sorry to hear about the story, but it couldn't help but remind me of the style of Bill Bailey's Chaucer Pubbe Gagge. <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html//emoticons/smile-fix.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile-fix.gif' /><!--endemo-->
Out in the open like that you're just inviting
unjust morons like these to come at you.
Really, just giving them the snack was your first mistake.
And then not running away as quickly as you could?
Nice as you may have been by giving them the snacks...
I think you learnt a valuable lesson here.
Don't give ANYTHING to a druggie.
It's an open invitiation...
Only thing it serves is letting them get a foot in 'the door'
Try to think a little more carefully next time
, but I know you had little choice in the matter.
Just out of curiositys sake...
Everyone lost something only to have it returned, right?
So have they all decided to travel a little lighter now? Like you?
Using their shoes as their new wallets?
Seems like a slightly better idea than loosing your wallet everytime you go out...
Looking back...
Out of all the things you could have done.
Letting them have your wallets was the best thing.
Just imagine what that idiot could have done with that knife...
Keep that thought close to you <!--emo&;)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html//emoticons/wink-fix.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='wink-fix.gif' /><!--endemo-->
--Scythe--
P.S. Not yours inf. Yours sucks.
Okay, uh. Congrats. Perhaps next time you should tell them about jebus.
No, jk.
Okay have fun.
Seconded,
at least you got your stuff back, minus the money.
Seconded,
at least you got your stuff back, minus the money. <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
HUNT 'EM DOWN, HUNT 'EM DOWN!
Slit their throats, maim their shoes
For when your done, they'll lose 'em too
For you'll cut it off, one by one
Make each man, into a woo-mon
Slice their eyes
clean right out
Make their wangs
short and stout
Make 'em so they never touch you again
Just so you'll laugh at them
Hidie ho, hidie ho
Its off to slaughter we go!
Hidie ho, hidie ho
They'll hope to die(damn couldn't get that to rhyme).
Theese guys were punks, worthless scum of the world, and they have bad karma so they'll get what's coming to them.
Hope you can get theese guys prosecuted though.
That said, good story of you getting your arse kicked and the like. ^_^
Seconded <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
Thirded.
Don't let the macho internet thug mentality run over into real life. Statistics will show there is a minimal chance that you are Charles Bronson, so giving them your wallets was indeed the best course of action.
For when your done, they'll lose 'em too
For you'll cut it off, one by one
Make each man, into a woo-mon
Slice their eyes
clean right out
Make their wangs
short and stout
Make 'em so they never touch you again
Just so you'll laugh at them
Hidie ho, hidie ho
Its off to slaughter we go!
Hidie ho, hidie ho
They'll hope to die(damn couldn't get that to rhyme). <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
That isn't very Christian, is it?
But this is!
<img src='http://sportsmedia.ign.com/sports/image/christian_090803_160.jpg' border='0' alt='user posted image' />
Woooo!
If they do catch them, I hope they have the sense to plead guilty and not waste our time and money on a court case.
Our church smallgroup had fellowship at a park this night. Teenage goons mugged us, one had a knife.
The End. <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
Mmmm thats the delicious american version. Me likey likey
Seconded <!--QuoteEnd--></td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'><!--QuoteEEnd-->
Thirded.
Don't let the macho internet thug mentality run over into real life. Statistics will show there is a minimal chance that you are Charles Bronson, so giving them your wallets was indeed the best course of action. <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><div class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
UNLESS YOURE AWESOME LIKE ME I WOULDVE AWPD THEM TOTALLY FOR SURE D00D OMG LOL
I don't want to steal your thunder, but I had a similar experience on Friday (so possibly the same day) that I was thinking about posting about.
Luckily for me the guy (there were three of them but only one actually approached me) just seemed to be drunk (the half-empty beer in one hand was a bit of a giveaway) and was more interested in a fight than actually taking anything. I made it clear I was not so inclined.
I'm also amazed he didn't try to chase me when my feet actually responded to my brain's order to run, i'm not the fastest in the world and was a little over the limit myself, plus he had several inches of height and probably at about 5 years of age on me.
Still makes me go all wibbly to try and type about it; I keep asking myself how I got away without so much as a bruise or a single penny missing.
Meh. Once I pass my driving test things like this won't happen. I'll just be the designated driver and won't be able to drink at all <!--emo&::nerdy::--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html//emoticons/nerd-fix.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='nerd-fix.gif' /><!--endemo-->
I guess the dude had a chain or something I dunno.
Since I would assume that they aren't the brightest bulbs of society, I guess it can't hurt to label said bag of chips with bright flashly warning signs.
Heck, they might even mistake it for a new experimental drug, what with all the coloured, skull-faced stickers.