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Death by Piano

Arthur whistled, his joyful tune ringing like a Christmas jingle. He skipped like a child through the snowy streets, his black eyes filled with mirth as it roamed the colorful decorations now up for the jolliest of seasons. With both hands in his hoodie, he snuggles closer for it's warmth as he weaved through the crowd, intent on coming back to his home.

Though unfortunately for him, fate had other plans. A small sound wiggle itself into his ears.

"Help! Help!"

A shout, one hoarse and helpless. A seeming reminder of the life he left behind, stops him, and with that, his expression takes a turn for the worse, his mood now dampened.

"Dammit!" He murmured, his sense of justice pulling on him to help.

A struggle appears within himself, the wish to call a police and the urge to help, fought like beasts within him. Though in the end, justice prevailed and so, with great reluctance, he stepped forward and took a turn. His eyes now looking through a dark alley, one that reeked of garbage and piss.

"Goddammit." His face churning in disgust.

The sounds of struggle continued within the alley, his footsteps covered by the horns of cars and pedestrian talking to their phones. Though as he inches closer, four men looked back, each one more threatening than the last.

"Greetings to you, friends!" He waved his hand with an eerie smile. His white perfect teeth, helping in his eerie image.

Something that captures the attention of the four men as they stop their beating of what seemed to be an overworked middle-aged man, struggling to breathe.

One then walks up to him, dressed In clothing, unfamiliar to Arthur. Since he was an old fogey, unfamiliar with the latest trends.

"Look, you old fucker. Get away from here and don't act like a fucking hero." The man said, his eyes venomous as he jabbed on Arthur's chest.

An urge to kill washes over Arthur. His eerie smile now enraged, "Listen here you little shit." He grabs his finger and bends it to the side, eliciting a pained scream as he holds on to it, the other three leaving the man as they turn their attention to him.

Arthur, meanwhile, looked back, his expression angered as he unknowingly raged upon the men before him, "I'm just twenty-one! How the hell am I old!"

The one with a bent finger retreated, nursing his dislocated finger as he tried to put it back in futility, "Well, the beard makes you look like a fucking hobo!"

"Shut up! This makes me mature, you shitfuck!"

He realizes his inner thoughts coming out before he immediately reels it in, coughing into his hands as he says to the men, "Look, I'm in a jolly mood right now. So, I'll be giving you a time to run."

He then puts his hand in his pockets as his left foot takes a step back, his expression turning grim as he comb his hair back thinking he looked cool, "If not, you'll force me to use one of my most special moves."

Fortunately, it worked for the four men which looked at each other, reeling in shock. The confidence Arthur showed left the men hesitant, reminding them of kung fu films they've watched together.

Their eyes looked at each other in discussion, before three men simultaneously stepped back and the one left, looked around as he sighs in defeat before raising his fist, ready to fight.

"You can do this man," "Do the war face." "Ouch, it won't fit back in." His three friends whispered.

With the three friends behind him whispering their support. He takes a step forward, his expression turning vicious, "So, old fucker. Ready to die?"

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Arthur holds back the toxic vitriol bubbling inside of him, only giving a skewed smile, his irritation reaching levels where mercy stopped existing. "Ready when you are."

The man then charges, his fist raised, his eyes trained on Arthur's left feet. Years upon years of boxing and fighting showed him of the man's danger. He watches him with intent, his stance familiar, one that creates much power to his left leg. A single strike could take him down. With such realization, he lowers his stance, his focus concentrated on his left leg as he grew closer.

In a few moments, he reaches him within range of his punch, though before he could do anything, Arthur's left leg explode in strength. 'This was it' such was the man's first thought, his arms raised, ready to defend against his leg and end the battle with a single counter punch.

He did everything right, everything would have gone perfectly. His arm were raised, his legs were tensed, ready to defend everything on his right side.

Unfortunately, Arthur was a piece of shit. So he kicked him in the nuts.

And with that, a loud crunch erupted. Every man within a mile shuddered simultaneously, their legs weakening from a single despairing scream.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!"

His three friends winced, Arthur winced and even the beaten and bruised middle aged man winced.

"DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!" the three men shouted, their legs buckling as their friend laid prone, nursing whatever was left of his exploded nuts.

Arthur looked back with a somber expression, shaking his head as he chided the three men, "I have told you not to cross me. Now you have experienced my special move. The ball buster."

"Special move, my ass. You just kicked him in the nuts!"

"That's literally a low blow!"

"Yeah! What kind of asshole does that!?"

Arthur raises an eyebrow. "The kind of asshole that beats up an old man?"

"Touche."

Their supposed leader then took hold of his friends into a huddle, "So, what do we do?"

One of the thug looked back up before huddling back, "We can always just stab him."

"Good idea!" The leader nods in affirmation, the other two nodding back.

"Hey! I can hear you!" Shouted Arthur as he stood there, waiting.

The three thugs then stood back up, taking out their butterfly knives, doing some cool tricks that are way too cool for Arthur to copy.

With that done, they charge, their shouts resounding through the dirty alleyway as Arthur once more entered his stance, his hands behind his back as his black hair flew through from the chilly wind.

The three men notices his indifference as they roar in humiliation, their friend in imminent danger and in utter pain, something the three of them can never forgive, the humiliation they had to go through. Something fueling their thirst for revenge, pushing them as they charge on.

As they ran a plan forms, they now understood his tricks, something they can now exploit. Their leader charged head on while his two other friends ready to support him, their eyes concentrated on his legs.

They were about to tackle him to the ground and stab the man before them. And they were going to win and take their revenge for this humiliation, to once more regain what little honor they had.

Arthur then takes out two guns.

And they went in complete reverse.

They ran faster than they were charging, leaving their groaning friend reaching his hand to them as he held his exploded nuts.

"Wow, they actually ran faster." Arthur muttered as he softly kicked the guy in the nuts, eliciting another pained groan as he laid there in endless agony.

He disregarded the man as he walked to the middle-aged man. His eyes caring as he offered his hand, "You alright there? Can you walk?"

"Thank you, young man."

"It's fine, Just trying to help a man in need,"

He then points to the groaning man, "Is he going to be alright?"

Arthur waves his hand in dismissal. "He'll be fine. So let's get you to a hospital instead."

The two then turn their back at him as they walked through the alley, intent on getting the middle-aged man into a hospital to give him treatment.

Though as they do, the man with the exploded nuts looked back in anger. The pain in his groin nothing compared to the humiliation he suffered. Another wave of pain echoes from his exploded nuts and he groans.

Well, perhaps the pain is the main reason.

He stood up shakily, his knees shaking before he runs, with every fiber of his being, he runs. His feet ready to enact retribution on the man that has made him suffer, standing there waiting at the bus stop, as if everything he did against him meant nothing.

He then gives a vicious grin, aiming his kick to his groin as he winds up his leg for the strongest kick he could ever give. He roars at Arthur, who was not expecting the kick behind him.

"TAKE THIS!"

A loud crunch followed, then a scream.

The thug was screaming his head off as he held his foot, broken beyond repair. Arthur looks down at him in pity as he knocks on his groin, the sound of steel ringing.

"Don't do to others what you don't want others do unto you." He gives him a smirk, "That's why you buy a groin armor."

The man with exploded nuts and broken foot only groaned back in pain.

Arthur then pushes the middle-aged man away from the scene of sadness. Helping him into a taxi he paid for, to send him to a hospital. The middle-aged man waved back his goodbye from the taxi, leaving Arthur with a warm feeling as he waved back.

"Well, that good deed certainly helped my mood," He mutters to himself as he skipped back towards his home, unaware of the screams around him as he gets crushed by a falling piano.

The End?

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