This is a portion of some short stories I have been sharing with friends and clan mates. It was the third installment but has been edited to be the first since I cannot obtain the first few I wrote. It will offend some but idc. You might hate it, you might love it, either way if one person thinks it's funny that's enough for me. This world of ours is in a constant battle with the forces of darkness. Some people think terrorists or zombies or demons might be the most imminent threat to our well being, well those people are wrong. This threat is volatile, it seeps into the fabric of our society like a weed in a flower bed that can never be removed because it has laid roots deep down in our foundation. It grows every day and there are not enough soldiers to combats this evil. I am speaking of the most horrible of sins, the most disgusting of individuals.... Hipsters. I am one of few brave souls who combat this evil. It is well documented that my last encounter with these foul beings at wal-mart almost ended in my demise, but I rose victorious. Since then they have recessed into the depths of The local mall to regain their strength and bid their time until they decide to emerge again. Well today they struck, while picking up ink for the printer at work I encountered a fresh breed of this animal. While leaving staples I walk out of the doors and I encounter a foul stench, clove cigarettes. My heart races, my eyes widen and my nostrils flare. Sweat beads down my forehead. My palms clench into a tight fist that could squeeze water from a rock. They are upon us once again, this time closer to my door step. I will not tolerate this. I cut my eyes in the direction of the cinnamon cigarette scent. There they are, a whole pack of hipsters, the leader is clearly marked with hideous suspenders and worn converse shoes, an ironic pair of eye glasses with thick frames and no lenses. His back pack seems empty, with a Bernie sanders sticker on it... This one I must kill first, the weaker members of the pack draw courage and strength from him. If I down this beast the others will surely flee, it will not be an easy task, the others form a protective wall around him, a wall of sarcastic remarks and hypocritical thoughts. I must penetrate this wall, even if it kills me. This threat is too great to be ignored. I drop my office supplies and put in a dip of grizzly winter green, the smell weakens them like garlic to vampires. I yell "hey! Who's fvking Honda Pilot is this?!" They all turn and gaze at me with condescending eyes. They hiss and reel at the sight of my Work boots and camo hat. The first wave starts its charge, I dodge the first attacker and grab the man satchel of the next using it as a catapult to throw him to the ground, I spit the first dip on his technicolor bow tie, he vaporizes instantly, the first one comes back around, I open my truck door striking him in the forehead disabling him for now (he has never had a bloody nose and surely thinks he is dying). I look up, the leader parts the wall of hipsters that surrounds him, he has accepted my challenge. Surely a mistake on his part, he charges , I square and widen my stance, bracing for impact, he collides with me. I remember the training and knowledge my master bestowed upon me. I toss him aside easily, but this is no fair fight, In my exchange I become careless and I am ambushed from both sides, surely I didn't think this would be a fair fight, I was prepared, I activated the ringtone in my phone, "a country boy can survive" blasts through the speakers of my iPhone. My would be attackers fall to the ground grasping their ears in pain. The leader is back up, he reaches for his Bernie sanders book bag, he swings it once and I duck under but I am not so lucky the second time, he whiffs it back and then forward with momentum that could stop a pit bull in its tracks. His book bag lands, square on my chin. It felt like it was filled with bricks but I know it was filled with souls of hard working americans, nothing weighs heavier than pure souls. I must release those souls. He blows a puff of cinnamon clove smoke in my face. My eyes burn and my throat closes, I collapse. He stands over me relishing in his victory over the greatest adversary he will ever face. His cheap tricks have won, my thoughts turn to my wife and my friends and my TMW family... What will life be like for her and those I love if I am gone and not able to stand against this most unholy darkness? I cannot give up, there may come a day when the hipsters ride motor scooters through my neighborhood... But it is not this day!!!! He raises his Bernie sanders bag above his head ready to deal the final blow. My opportunity is upon me, I must be swift, I must be strong, I must be unforgiving!!!!! I launch upwards, my right fist at the head of my charge! I connect! My fist collides with his throat, his bag falls to the ground. His eyes widen with disbelief, he coughs and falls to his knees. Now his eyes are looking UP to me! I stare down at him, with hatred in my eyes, I let out a battle cry "make America great again!" As my right fist comes down with force equal with the meteor that ended the dinosaurs. This time his temple is my target, it lands with precision I could never have dreamed of. His eyes fade and he falls to the ground, I toss a Ben Carson campaign sticker on him, he evaporates in a cloud of cheap smoke that smells like cinnamon. His minions flee, I have won. My eyes turn to the Bernie sanders book bag. I reach down and grab it, the heaviest victory ever, these souls need to go home. I open the book bag and a beam of light shoots out! It's colors are red white and blue! The souls are free! I let out a sigh of relief. It will be years before they recover from this defeat, until then I will be waiting, building an army of my own, because next time. We end this war.... Once and for all!!!!