Watching TV

"The trip turned out, well, not as smoothly as it should have. It's a damn miracle no one died, considering that the two veterans were capable of crushing any of the employees with their thumbs. But let me not get ahead of myself too much, I'm Bob Allen, and welcome to Teufort Times, the news station that brings the news right into your homes-"

"The hell you turn it off for?"

An old man put down the remote and turned to face the smooth-talking middle-aged man, who adjusted his comfy position on the couch, pushed his specs up and lifted his other hand at the television, expressing his desire to keep watching the news. He was once a great runner, a charming fellow and a womanizer at heart. He was, indeed, the former Scout. On the floor, next to him, was sitting the grey-haired Heavy with more wrinkles than his old uniform.

"C'mon, turn it back on!"

The Heavy crossed his arms, hiding the remote underneath his fat arms, and gave the Scout a stern look.

"Net, dis is bad. Very bad!"

"I – want – to – see – the – news. Now."

The Heavy shook his head like a stubborn kid and looked away, refusing to both pass over the remote and to turn on the television. Having no choice but to do this hard way, the Scout stood up and cracked his fingers over the seated Heavy, who still had his head turned and eyes shut. The Scout never wanted to do this, but this time he simply had to. Grunting, he hobbled over the TV set and clicked on the power button. With a buzz and flash, the screen returned back to the Teufort Times. They were now interviewing a woman in a shop.

"-Could you tell us more what happened? Who were these men?"

"I… I don't know. One of them was fat and old and the other was… Well, pretty damn handsome. As soon as they came in, the fat one went to the glass shelves we had and started obsessing over the deli we had inside. When the customers were getting concerned with him drooling over the sandwiches, we asked him to leave – he… He…"

"It's okay darling. The men have not been caught and the footage of them has been determined too blurry to make out their identities. If you have any knowledge of the criminals, please contact your local police station immediately. I'm David Waters – back to you Bob"

With a moronic grin, the Scout slowly shifted his look at the Heavy, who was desperately clicking buttons on the remote. The frustration and anger were clearly reflected on the Heavy's face with his teeth gritted together, his tiny eyes glaring at the remote, and his bull-like huffing.

"Yo, calm down! The batteries are dead, just like your brain cells are."

"Scout! Dis is not funny! Turn it off!"

The Scout chuckled and focused back into the television to recap on what happened some two hours ago.

"-is indeed unfortunate. The description of the two men are the following: old, round-faced, fat around five-foot seven and with a heavy Russian accent. The other had a Boston accent, thin, attractive, clean cut, blond with hints of grey hair, and glasses. Again, if you know anything about these two men, please immediately call your local police station. Next for-"

The television violently exploded, sparks and a heavy smoke coming from a shatter in the screen. Terrified, the Scout jumped onto his couch and stared at the Heavy, who sat there plainly with his arm extended ahead of him. He had thrown the damn remote at the television.

"I swear you cheeky cunt…"

"What? Did little baby-man get scared of a small boom?"

The Scout snapped his knuckles once more and tossed his glasses aside on to a cabinet. Now things were going to get hot.

"You blew up our fucking TV!"

"You did not turn off TV! I do it manually."

"I'll knock that last tooth you got right outta your mouth!"

"Cry some moar, baby man!"

Unable to hold his anger any longer, the Scout regained his long-lost desire for fighting and leaped on to the Heavy, who shakily went into a battle pose and roared with fury. In the chaos of uneducated men and blown-up TVs, a fight ensued. As the fists flew, the smoke choked the entire room in its black haziness, but the two men didn't seem to mind the lack of oxygen. They were to concerned with ripping each other's heads off.

In about five minutes, a loud knock sounded from the front door.

"Police! Open up! We received word of domestic violence in this residence!"

With the Scout sitting on the Heavy's belly and swinging his wiener arms at the Heavy, the Scout managed to burble out some coherent words.

"No! Get dargh fuurck out of here!"

"If you do not comply in ten seconds, we will enter with force!"

Of course, neither of the imbeciles complied. The door smashed open and two burly police men entered in blue uniforms and pistols pointed at the two old men fighting each other on the floor next to a burning TV with smoke literally everywhere. The began coughing, but they kept their guns raised.

"Hands in the air! Now!"

The fighting ceased with the Scout rolling off the Heavy, who still laying on the floor pushed both hands above his body. The Scout scrambled up and got both hands as well. The two policemen squinted their eyes at the exhausted and oxygen-deprived Scout.

"Roger, are they-"

"They are…"

"You're the two assholes that broke into that bakery!"

At this point, the Heavy managed to cough out some words, hands still above him.

"Net,we were watching TV."

"You two are under arrest! Stand up with your hands raised!"

As "Roger" holstered his gun and whipped out his handcuffs, the Heavy slowly rose, eyes red from the smoke and sniffling. The other police officer continued to point his gun at the two criminals. In the cloud of smoke, the Scout hung his head in shame.

"We were watching TV…"