Poetic license in full effect:
(I do this at least 3 times a week, and eventually will snap and actively eradicate these fuckers)
Rain ran down my face.
Like tears, for all those that fell before me, torn asunder, cast aside by the unholy hordes that beset them.
They were coming, I was sure of that.
I held my post.
My job, if you want to call it that, I call it my duty, is to guard those that haven’t eaten, those that have food stolen from their mouth, those that have been driven away by these burglars, these robbers, these fanatics.
I held my post.
The needy were eating frantically, they needed food, they were driven by what they knew was coming, entire meals vanished in an instant.
The first of them came, I saw it coming, it squared off, stood up on its hind legs like the abomination against nature that it was.
I squared off with it.
I will defend my charges, damn you all to hell.
We stared, it had no idea what I was, I knew exactly what it was. we circled, it climbed for higher ground to intimidate me, I rushed it, scared it off.
It was just a scout. The others would come soon.
And they came.
My charges still ate, gulping down sustenance, hoping I would protect them long enough that they would live another day.
Protect them I did.
The first two came from the trees, trying to go for a blind spot, I drove them back with suppressing fire, the next two tried to flank me on the stairs, I emptied my magazine and kicked the other one away, using gravity as my wingman.
I reloaded, oh how I reloaded, a steady litany of curses and lost ammunition as I knew they were regrouping, and would be coming in force.
I slapped the magazine in and prepared for the onslaught, at that moment, my charges finished. Looked up at me in thanks, and ran off to their safe places.
I stood there with rain running down my face, like tears of joy.
They were safe for another night, well fed, and well hidden.
Then I went inside and took my slippers off, turned on the playstation, and said "Fuck those raccoons"
(I do this at least 3 times a week, and eventually will snap and actively eradicate these fuckers)
Rain ran down my face.
Like tears, for all those that fell before me, torn asunder, cast aside by the unholy hordes that beset them.
They were coming, I was sure of that.
I held my post.
My job, if you want to call it that, I call it my duty, is to guard those that haven’t eaten, those that have food stolen from their mouth, those that have been driven away by these burglars, these robbers, these fanatics.
I held my post.
The needy were eating frantically, they needed food, they were driven by what they knew was coming, entire meals vanished in an instant.
The first of them came, I saw it coming, it squared off, stood up on its hind legs like the abomination against nature that it was.
I squared off with it.
I will defend my charges, damn you all to hell.
We stared, it had no idea what I was, I knew exactly what it was. we circled, it climbed for higher ground to intimidate me, I rushed it, scared it off.
It was just a scout. The others would come soon.
And they came.
My charges still ate, gulping down sustenance, hoping I would protect them long enough that they would live another day.
Protect them I did.
The first two came from the trees, trying to go for a blind spot, I drove them back with suppressing fire, the next two tried to flank me on the stairs, I emptied my magazine and kicked the other one away, using gravity as my wingman.
I reloaded, oh how I reloaded, a steady litany of curses and lost ammunition as I knew they were regrouping, and would be coming in force.
I slapped the magazine in and prepared for the onslaught, at that moment, my charges finished. Looked up at me in thanks, and ran off to their safe places.
I stood there with rain running down my face, like tears of joy.
They were safe for another night, well fed, and well hidden.
Then I went inside and took my slippers off, turned on the playstation, and said "Fuck those raccoons"
