There was a rowdy crowd, cheering and singing in time while drinking heavily. It was a group of half a dozen men, all ruffians, who got their living by working with the union. They were the tough sort who never let their guard down, save for these rare moments. Froth overflowed as they smashed cups together in joy.

Why were they joyous?

Not for good reasons.

The entire group was part of a racial supremacy group. These had started popping up now that the world was at peace. This gathering of seven brits were celebrating the fact that they had beaten up some midget irishman and stolen his italian girlfriend. They had been drinking before and happened across the couple while brawling in the back alleys. The leader of the group, Jack, threatened the tiny irishman while Brock, the second in command, smashed his head over with a bottle. The shock was too much for the woman, who the men grabbed and gagged before pulling down into their little pub. It was entirely for their club.

Their prize was lying on her back in the center of the room tied to a table, and the men were all dancing around her. Building up their libido.

Because they were gentlemen, they offered her a drink, which she accepted, even though they poured it upside-down onto her face. Everyone laughed. Italians were scum. They were part of the Axis, a screwed group of bastards that fucked the world up.

And the irish were even worse. Those people were the type to stab you in the back and laugh, making pacts with devils like nothing. Or, well, at least that was what people said. None of these men really cared. They just hated anyone not british.

The energy in the room kept building.

She was very pretty. Better looking than any of these men ever had the pleasure of spending time with, and fuses were starting to get short. As Jack started undoing his pants, another member grabbed him by the back of the head and tossed him to the ground. He spat on Jack and started removing his own trousers. Jack grabbed this man by the feet and pulled, hard enough to trip his friend. The man fell hard, his jaw slamming on the edge of the table and causing him to bite his tongue off. The two started grappling on the ground while the remainder of drunk men hollered.

Nobody paid attention to the tiny ‘irishman’ who entered through the back door with a knife. In a swift motion he stabbed through the closest man’s spine then leapt up high enough to slit another’s throat.

Before the two men hit the ground, he rammed the knife twice into Brock’s guts and tore so the intestines would spray on the ground. He threw out a kick to shatter a man’s knee backwards then brought the knife around in a spinning motion to slice out his eyes. The final standing man watched in horror, unable to say anything or defend himself when the little guy abruptly swiped the knife through his groin. The floor was a bloody mess and stabbing the two wrestling men to death wasn’t difficult at all.

“Took you long enough, asshole,” Honey said, yawning. “I was wondering whether you were going to come or not.”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Hanson said. He tossed his knife from hand to hand. “Now I’m wondering whether to cut you free or not. Decisions, decisions…”

“That’s fine, leave me. Surprisingly comfortable, lying like this. I have a new appreciation for tables.”

“Uh.”

“No really, you can leave me. I’ll just remember to tell the police everything about you when they come discover this place in five days. If they don’t figure out quicker than that.”

Hanson felt dismay.

“Come on, play into it a little! I’m the hero, so let me tease you just a bit!”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the hero, here,” Honey said. “I mean, I pretty much killed these men. Add five notches to my belt.” She was wearing a skirt without a belt, but she had one at home.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Hanson shook his blade in front of her face. “Do you not see this knife?”

“No, I don’t. Oh wait, is that a knife? It’s so small, I thought it was a toothpick. Fitting for such a little man.”

“I’m not even that short!”

“These guys kept calling you a ‘short irishman’, so it must be true!”

“Okay, now I think I’m really not going to cut you free. Do you know how much time it’s gonna take me to sharpen my shank before it’s back to perfect? A total waste of Stabby-Slicey using it here.”

“Should’ve used your hands then.”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of your bullying,” Hanson said, sheathing his blade. “I’m leaving.” Then without a word, he left through the door he had come in.

A minute passed.

“Wait, Hanson, did you really leave? I was joking...please cut me free. I don’t want to dislocate my hands. I’m serious, I’ll do it! Then you’ll need to cook for me, and feed me, and wipe my-”

The knife stabbed into the table almost close enough to cut Honey’s wrist. It didn’t, but it did shear through the rope enough for her to take it and free herself.

While she was doing so, Hanson re-entered the room.

“I’m not wiping anything, no matter what happens to you. Get a butler for that.”

“Ooh, maybe I should get a butler. Good thinking.”

“Wait, please don’t actually try and get a butler. We don’t get paid enough or have a nice enough house for that.”

“I’ll just buy a cheap one. And a handsome one.”

“The cheap ones won’t be handsome. They'll be ugly. Oh, wait, that’s perfect for you. Never mind, you’re good.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Honey finally cut herself free and she hopped off the table onto one of their assailants crotch. She felt something crumbling and saw the man groan in pain, so she kneaded her feet and watched him writhe. The knife was handed back to Hanson as the two left the small bar.

How rude to interrupt them on their walk?

Resuming their travel, the two of them hopped onto a nearby wall and grabbed an exterior building pipe to climb. Very quickly they scampered up it and passed to the streets on that level. Normally this would be a pretty busy road, but at two in the morning, the only people who could see them were beggars and layabouts. People who wouldn’t care to see the two. Their destination was home, which was quite a bit away, so they had time to chat on the way over.

“So, you said earlier you had dinner with Luise?” Hanson asked. His hands were atop his head and he was walking along the side of the bridge, balancing without difficult. The water below was pitch black. “How was that?”

“Not bad, duh,” Honey said. She, on the other hand, was more than comfortable just being on the sidewalk. In her hands was a bottle of wine stolen from the bar they were just in, which she was shaking around with great disdain. “How the fuck do you think it would go? She’s good.”

“Glad to hear it. She ask about me?”

“Of course she did. You’re just trying to boost your ego.”

“Am not.”

“Fuck off. But yeah, she wanted to make sure you were still single.”

“You told her I wasn’t interested, right?”

“I told her you recently lost your cock in an automobile accident and decided to become a woman.”

The scary part was that Hanson had no idea whether Honey actually said that or not. No, wait. It was scarier to think that Luise might believe something so bizarre. Or was it good?

“What did she say to that?”

Honey laughed.

“She asked if she could borrow it for a while.”

Hanson shuddered at the thought and double-checked to make sure his willy was still in place.

“Women are scary.”

“Yes, we are,” Honey said. “Aren’t all humans scary, though?”

“Babies are the worst. Horrifying.”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s why I kill ‘em on sight.”

“Anyway, what’s Luise up to these days? Still doing that maid job? For the rich family or whatever?”

Remembering the lunch they had today made Honey stop. Hanson raised an eyebrow as his sister dropped to her knees and started busting a gut in laughter. She was laughing so hard tears started forming in the corners of her eyes. Not knowing the joke just made Hanson feel uncomfortable.

“What’s so funny?”

“Holy shit! You’re not gonna believe it…”

“Just tell me already god damn it.”

“The craziest thing,” Honey said, doing her best to contain the laughter. “It’s like a freakin’ fantasy novel: Luise is dressing up as her boss so that she can run away from home to escape an arranged marriage. So fucking stupid ahahahahahaha.”

Hanson didn’t get the joke, but he couldn’t help giggle a bit at his friend losing her mind. Their walk home that night was mostly normal til they saw two people covered head to toe in blood.