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he opened the shitty door of his shitty apartment and got in looking like shit The jacket was torn at the sleeves and the shirt underneath was torn at the chest Wet mud adorned his knees and ankles and his cheap shoes were about to fall off There was blood stuck into his thick beard and mustache and a bit around the knuckles "Happy new year!" he said as he closed the door behind him and paced from hallway to bathroom Yes, another New Year's Eve spent alone He was 46 But the punks he beat in the streets couldn't have been older than 16 The fuckers were doing what today's kids called 'pranks' and threw firecrackers at him "It's just a prank, bro!" they cried over and over again as he charged them and started swinging wildly At some point the punks had to fight back or die but…
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