Free How To Avoid Death On A Daily Basis: Book One by V. Moody Page A

can crush your skull with his bare hands, you don’t really have time to consider all the politically correct ramifications.
     
    “Guys, come on, calm down.” Golden Boy had decided to take charge of the situation. “We only took a little extra because there’s more of us.”
 
    “There’s six of you, and five of us. That’s one more person, out of twenty. Does it look like you took an extra one-twentieth?” I pointed at the bonfire of the vanities raging behind him.
     
    “Okay,” said Golden Boy, “maybe we overdid it, but we didn’t mean any harm. We aren’t trying to deprive you guys. You’re all welcome to come over here and share the fire with us. How about it?”
     
    He looked past me at the rest of my group over by our area. His smile was big and magnanimous and it made me want to puke. I could sense the others walking over towards us. I’d look pretty silly if they all agreed to share the fire and only I held out. A compromise would probably be the best thing. If you think that’s what I went with, you obviously don’t know me at all.
     
    “How about it? How about fuck you? You did a shitty thing and now you’ve been called on it, instead of giving back what you stole, you’re trying to wheedle out a way so you keep what you took.”
     
    “Jesus,” said the black guy, sounding like he was right on the edge. “We invited you to join us, what more do you want?”
     
    “Yeah, an invitation to join a bunch of thieving arseholes. No thanks.” The others were now standing behind me. I was just waiting for one of them to suggest we agree to share, so I could tell them they could go fuck themselves too. But they didn’t say anything. Whether because they were backing me up, or just too nervous to speak, it’s hard to say.
     
    “You know,” said the black guy, “I’ve had just about enough of you.” He moved his hand along his waist.
     
    I noticed their weapons for the first time. The black guy had an axe. Only a small one, a hatchet I guess, but it looked like it could do some serious damage. Golden Boy had a sword. Yes, a real sword. I don’t think he got it from the handouts earlier, so he must have found it or bought it.
     
    “Easy, Dag,” said Golden Boy. “No need for that.”
     
    “Come on, Tin, he’s asking for it.”
     
    “Dag and Tin?” said Maurice. “What are you two supposed to be, Teletubbies?”
     
    *crickets*
     
    I started sniggering. I couldn’t help it. Not at Maurice’s terrible attempt at a cutting slam, but at the way it totally killed the conversation. Everyone just stared at him.
     
    I patted him on the shoulder. “Nice try, man.”
     
    He shook his head, looking more upset about the premature death of his stand-up comedy career than the life-threatening beating we were on the verge of receiving.
     
    “Tough crowd,” he muttered under his breath.
     
    Maurice’s intervention did have one good side-effect. It lifted the red mist and made me realise you don’t beat arseholes by acting like one.
     
    “Look,” I said, “once we get out of this place, you can do what you want. Kill us all in a fair fight if you want. You with your swords and axes, us with our sticks and stones. I’m sure the girls will all be very impressed.”
     
    The three girls in their party, including Jenny, had been watching silently. I decided to include them because a guy will act differently when he’s in front of girls. He wants them to believe he’s cool and brave and whatever other bullshit he thinks will get him laid.
     
    “But while we’re in here,” I continued, “it would be nice if you let us do what we want instead of stealing our options. We want to build our own fire, our own way. Do you think you could stop cockblocking us?”
     
    “Fine,” said Golden Boy, whose name was Tin (short for Justin?). “Help yourself.” He stepped aside.
     
    The heat from the fire made your face melt if you looked at it too long. The flames crackled and