My First Mugging

Last Wednesday saw me being chosen for that rite of passage known as “The First Mugging”, an occassion which in todays society is now a certainty with the only variables being when, where and how much they take! On this occassion it was the park with the end result being that I was down €70 and had a phone that smelt of diseased scumbag crotch.

The trouble all the started when a foursome of inbred cocks decided to join in on our game of soccer with two of them opting to sit on the sideline, or this in case right beside the goal post where our bags and stuff were. Having just got back from the shop a few minutes earlier, my wallet and phone were just thrown on the ground which put me at an immediate disadvantage. As much as I thought I was keeping an eye on them as the goalkeeper, they still managed to slip €20 out of it, but at that moment in time I wasn’t aware of it.

It was only when one “Martin” was knocked out that things started heating up because suddenly I noticed that my phone was gone. I rang it, but to no avail. As expected, everyone denied having it until one of them said that Martin had it. He denied it until finally reaching into his pants and producing a phone which had an uncanny resemblence to my own. It was then that he told me that one of the girls by the goalpost had taken the €20 from my wallet. I went to check, but my wallet was then taken from me and €50 was swiftly swiped from it by none other than Martin!

I spent the next 15 minutes trying to guage the situtation. We outnumbered them, but who would get involved if it did come to blows? I was also thinking down the road and whether or not there’d be a fair chance of them getting their extended family after me. I was also aware that we had a number of friends scattered around the park, but calling upon them for assistance would have required shouting which would have sent the scumbags running - with my money. Martin also had my money sitting beside his balls and no sane person would want to put their hands down there so Martin would have had to hand it over himself and he came across as the guy who wouldn’t give in, even if I knocked him straight to the ground with one rage enfuelled blow which on a few occassions looked like what was going to happen as I threatened to snap at any moment! I didn’t snap though and the deformed foursome escaped with my money after it eventually became clear that I wasn’t going to get them to hand over the money voluntarily and the general concensus within our group was that I had no option other than walk away and leave it be…