This is a story from my uncle. He lives in South Africa and is therefore subjected to unfortunate events more often than I am here in sunny England.
When you are sat in your room watching TV, you wouldn’t typically expect to hear scraping noises coming from the front door, peer out the window, and see a burglar attempting to force entry. Similarly, you wouldn’t expect your brain to then tell you that the best way to tackle this problem is to sneak up behind said burglar and try to knock him out. But luckily planet Earth is covered in plenty brains that work in rather unorthodox ways. Makes for good stories like this one.
So my uncle, having decided that this stealth-attack approach is the most appropriate, quietly opens the back door and emerges into the warm evening air. He walks barefoot so as to not make a sound and carries no weapon but his naked fists. Quickly ducking under the fence, creeping along its length to the road in front of the house, and stepping onto the front lawn puts him directly behind the poor, unsuspecting thief.
He moves silently.
As precise as a leopard.
Lethal as a lion.
He comes within striking distance.
The burglar remains blissfully unaware of the looming danger as my uncle slowly rises from his crouch and prepares to rain down all hell. He clenches his iron fist and pulls his arm back for the first blow, and does so with such vigour that he tears a muscle in his back.
Uncle collapses on the floor howling in pain. Burglar spins around to see what all the fuss is about. Burglar is so terrified of this man that appeared out of nowhere and now is now screaming on the floor, probably possessed, that he drops everything and flees the scene, never to be seen again.
Some would call this a success. Some would say failure. I simply believe that it shows you just how wonderfully insane some people can be.