Just An Average Sunday Night: A Tale of Detroit
	Plip. Plip. Plip. The sounds of the leaking gas catch my attention. 
Aw hell, this can't be good. There's a wild hissing of steam escaping 
from a radiator. The car was smashed nose first into a tree. Nearby a 
police cruiser is jammed up against it too. The front windshield of the 
car is shattered, a groaning figure lay in a bloody heap on the ground. 
A back window had also been smashed, a man's head had been dragged 
through it, his throat ripped open by the jagged glass. The police car 
is missing a door, and a windshield. No sign o the cops. What happened? 
For the life of me I can't remember.
	I'm sitting on the side of the road and watching the entire 
display. I scratch a hand through my hair, the short stubble runs 
along, prickling my palm. It's then I feel the slight stab o pain. I 
look over, somebody's shot me. Twice. In the same arm. Wonder how that 
happened? I can't seem to remember, for the life of me I can't remember. 
I look back at the crawling figure, I pull out a lighter and a 
cigarette. All right, concentrate on this one. It's Sunday. That meant 
you must have started the night down at Gurdy's. I always start my 
Sunday's there.
	Yeah, I remember now. Just an average Sunday night sucking back 
the sauce with the other losers. I was trying to tell Sam about my 
angel. The big goof had ta go and start mouthing off about things. So I 
broke his arm in a few places. Hmmm....if it was Sunday that must have 
meant Harris came in too. Meant Nancy must have done her little song 
and dance thing. Harris seemed more bitter then usual about something. 
Of course that sourpuss is always moaning and groaning about some 
plight or other. I kinda like Nancy though, nice songs, kinda old style. 
None of this Dixie Chicks crap. Naw, good old fashioned country.
	Yeah, Harris came in, watched Nancy, and then left. Same ol 
same ol. I was feeling kinda bummed out and bored so I grabbed a bottle 
o Gurdy's special brew and slipped out back to finish it in peace and 
quiet. That's when I heard the shouting. Some stupid frat boys picking 
on a wino. As though he didn't have it bad enough. I walk over closer 
while finishing off the bottle. They're kicking the hell out of him and 
pouring gas all over him. One a the pukes pulls out a lighter. I smash 
the bottle against the alley wall, I hold up the jagged end and look at 
them meaningfully.
	Crawl back into your bottle Jack says one of the little dweebs 
as he pops out a gun and caps me in the shoulder. I glance over at the 
wound, I look back at them. I guess they kinda got worried at that one, 
ran for it like all the dickens. Why'd the hell he call me Jack? It's a 
mystery. Those sort of things can really honk me off. That and he went 
and put a damn hole in my jacket. I puff on the cigarette and stand up. 
The guy on the ground is moaning and trying to crawl away. I walk over 
and stomp on his neck, it snaps.
	So they shot me, that made it clear to me who the bad guys were. 
It's okay to kill the bad guys. Hell, it was practically my civic duty! 
So I did what any good citizen would.... Their car roared down the 
street. I hung on tight to the window and punched it out. I reach in and 
grab one of them. I pull his head out and jam it down on the broken 
window, blood sprays on me. The other guy, the one who called me Jack. 
He fires again. He hits me in the same damn shoulder! I pop off the car 
and end up slamming into the hood of an oncoming cop.
	That's when I got an idea....I leap forward, smashing through 
the windshield. They yell and scream in surprise as I kick and throw 
them out. If those kids get back to a nice fancy neighborhood it would 
make things difficult for me. So I come up on them, play bumper cars for 
a while. Knock them out away from the Heights, send them trailing down 
into Dearborn. They try to get away, end up hitting a tree. I'm running 
kinda close on them so I pound into them too. At least I'm smart enough 
to hop out before I go, smash the whole damn door apart, but at least I 
don't get pounded up.
	I look down at the guy I just killed, he shoulda worn his seat 
belt. Even I know that much. Well, looks like the last two ran off. 
Including the guy who called me Jack. I could just let it go, but...I 
hate mysteries. I toss the cigarette down into the pool of gas as I leap 
off the edge of the embankment and sprint down after them. Behind me the 
cars go up in a fireball of orange light, I laugh. It's good to be 
alive! I slow down then, can't let myself get too excited. You know what 
happens when you get too excited. Bad things, don't need to start doing 
bad things.
	I'm walking along slow like. I hear their whispers of fear. They 
know I'm coming. I reach down and pick up a broken piece of pavement. I 
keep walking. They pop out, looks like they both have guns. I hurl the 
rock, it drills into the second guy, smashes his face inta pulp. The 
other guy fires twice, but he's shaky, scared. He manages to hit a damn 
bird that was sitting on a telephone wire, but he sure as hell don't hit 
me. I grab his hand and crush it around the gun. I grab his neck and pick 
him up.
	Ya shot a damn bird, I sez. He nods and blubbers. I tell him it 
ain't nice ta shoot damn birds. He starts ta agree, I shake him. I look 
into his eyes. I ask him the question. Why the hell did you call me Jack? 
Huh? He says. He just shrugs, it's an expression he says. Like saying 
what's up Jack, that's all it was. I nod. I tell him thanks for clearing 
that up for me. I snap his neck. At least I didn't get any more holes in 
my coat, and one damn fine coat it is. Somebody musta paid a fortune for 
it. I wonder who? And while I'm at it, where'd I get that pack of smokes? 
For the life of me I can't remember.