Tuesday February 19, 2019

3:50 pm

Ida, it turns out, is an acronym for Idiot Deserves Asskicking. At least, that’s what the Rage said after spending some quality time with the jaywalking jackass. I will give him this, the little fucker didn’t go down easy. Not that it helped him any in the punishment phase, it just isn’t a good idea to strike out at the Rage, he strikes back. Violently.

I got carried away in my last post talking about my mom and didn’t give you the Ragesearch results that brought the Rage and I to his doorstep in the first place. His behavior could have been enough, but you know we are thorough and wouldn’t waste the Rage’s talents on someone undeserving. No, Ida deserved all he got…. and then some. Do you know why he was walking in the first place? Several of you naturally went to drunk driving. Why wouldn’t you, that would have been my first guess, but we would have been wrong. Ida stepped it up a notch and went with vehicular assault. Second guess would be that he is a road rager himself, right? 0 for 2! He went after his ex-wife and her new boyfriend. With a vengeance. Both ended up in the hospital, the boyfriend for 6 weeks. Ida was granted a free stay on the state’s dime for 6 years for that little bit of work and had his driver’s license permanently revoked. Finally, the government did something right.

I’m pretty sure that he learned to be an even bigger dick while on the inside because after he got out, he dabbled in drugs, theft, and more assault. He spent a few more years as a guest of the state before walking into our life. He hasn’t had a legitimate job in over 10 years and the only ones that will miss him are his bartender, the strippers and I am sure, his parole officer. It’s a good thing because there isn’t much of him left to find.

Ida is a good 5 inches shorter than I am and maybe I got a little complacent due to his size, he isn’t physically imposing. I figured with his rap sheet, he wouldn’t miss an easy opportunity, so the Rage and I set one up for him. When Ida was leaving his favorite watering hole, we were waiting about 2 blocks from his house. When we saw him approaching, we went into stumbling drunk mode, making an easy mugging opportunity. You may cry entrapment, but if he wouldn’t have come after us, he would have been just fine. You know that’s not the truth, but there is some logic in the statement. Anyway, it was too much temptation for Ida and he slithered up behind us as we were approaching the entrance to an alley on our right, just as we expected he would. What we didn’t expect is that the little fuck weed was carrying a sap with him. That’s a piece of metal usually wrapped in some leather, its sole purpose to whack someone in the head with it. Check out Amazon if you need further description, we found some there.

We were waiting for him to lay hands on us and then we would have turned the tables, but instead, sap to the side of the head. Down we went, noticing some really interesting constellations we didn’t know existed until right then. He followed it up with a swift kick to the stomach and that turned out to be the exact wrong move….for him. When his foot contacted my stomach, I grabbed it with both hands and rolled as hard as I could right at him. His knee bent a good 120 degrees in the exact wrong direction and a very loud popping sound could be heard right before the high pitched wailing. I think that’s what I heard, my left ear is still ringing from the whack to the head. Don’t worry, the sap later ended up somewhere Ida really didn’t want it to. I quickly knocked the little shit out and once I regained my composure, and balance, I hefted him up and half dragged him to the transport that was parked further down the alley. He woke up once while I was trussing him up for his last ride to the Farm so I returned the favor and turned his little weapon back on him. The rest of the ride was very peaceful, only the sounds of “Nobody Gets Out Alive” by Kevin Rudolf and the Rage’s rendition of that song could be heard.

By the time we got back to the Farm, my head was pounding and the Rage was in no mood for any long drawn out punishment. He went for the surgical strike and placed the sap securely in a place that would give Ida the best posture for his obituary photo and then stuck him straight into the incinerator. We left him for about an hour to figure out where he was and then we turned it on….low… and went to bed. By the morning, there was a pile of ash no bigger than a hockey puck.

My lady pointed out the obvious to me the other day that no matter how hard we try, we aren’t going to make a dent on the dickhole driving population with our mission and, after last night, I can see her wisdom. I just don’t know if it’s worth it anymore….

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