It figured. It was just the kind of day I was having.
I felt his foot on the back of my neck. Felt him lift the baseball bat. And then it came whistling down toward my skull with a mighty crack of impact.
Except that it missed my motionless head, and whacked into the concrete next to my face, right by my eyes, instead.
"Listen up, Banks," my attacker said.
His voice was rough, low, purposefully hoarse.
"You got a big nose. Stop sticking it where it doesn't belong. You got a big mouth. Stop talking to people you don't need to talk to. Or we're going to shut that mouth of yours."
He waited a melodramatically appropriate moment, and then added, "Permanently."
His footsteps retreated up the stairs and vanished.
I just lay there watching the stars in front of my eyes for a while. Mister appeared from somewhere, probably drawn by the groaning noises, and started licking at my nose.
