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“This is it. Time to find out what I’m made of,” you thought to yourself. Just after realizing that you may indeed see what you’re actually made of. You put one foot forward, your arms up and fists locked and positioned yourself into the only fighting stance you know of. You think back to every Bruce Lee movie you’ve seen and hope to god that you can channel him in your last stand moment. With a war cry that would make a Viking Berserker proud, you cried out and began to charge the clown with the twisted teeth. As you rushed him, a big grin came over his face as he lifted the ax over his head. Then suddenly, that smile disappeared, his eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. Behind them, was your date, panting hard, looking down at the piece of glass that was just shoved into the back of the clown’s neck. Your date came back for you, and with a weapon! “I didn’t like how he called us chickies.” Your date told you with a blank stare. But he wasn’t gone yet. He twitched as he tried to get back up. But you and your date began to curb stomp him repeatedly until he no longer moved. Then, exhausted, out of breath, and in shock, you both walk out of the barn as the new day began to rise and into safety.

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