Jeff and Randy Fought, the Raccoons Won

This isn't how I wanted it to go down and I tried to stop him, I really did. But the fact is that Jeff caught a beat down last night and Randy was the one who did it. Well, Randy and the Raccoons.
After posting about the Applebee's incident last night I thought I'd better check on Randy, as I read the story back to myself I realized that it had been a long time since we'd had a night like that and Randy might have been feeling a little...on edge. When I got to his house, Jeff had already commented on my post. See the comments on the post below to see what he wrote. Randy, to say the least, was not happy. When he answered the door, he didn't even say hello, he went right into it.
"What's with this motherfucker!?"
"Wha?"
"Jeff's comment on your post! Doesn't he know I ain't to be trifled with? Especially after last night?" He said as he pointed to the open laptop on his desk. Reading Jeff's comment, I could see why Randy was so pissed, but I tried to diffuse the situation.
"That's just his sense of humor..."
"Fuck that! Lets roll."
I shrugged, as I followed him out the door and out to his car I figured that was it. A few beers and a few laughs and everything would be back to normal. But in the back of my mind I could see that a switch had been thrown in Randy's brain. For me, looking back on Taken, I think it was the sheer banality of the movie that really got Randy's hackles up. A person can only take so much mediocrity before he decides he needs to become the shrieking banshee howling over the mind numbing din. As we got his car, I asked Randy where we were rolling to, he said, "we are going to settle the score."
"Not Dave and Buster's again," I said, "I beat you at Time Crisis 20 fucking times now and it ain't gonna change tonight."
I could barely see his eyes as he looked over at me in the dark car, but what was unmistakable was that knowing smirk as we pulled away into the night. When we started heading west instead of east, I knew we were in for a long night.
"where we goin' man?"
Randy changed the subject.
"I hope Watchmen is either really good or really bad, because if its just so so, I think I might lose really lose it." He was so matter of fact, as if he hadn't just really lost it last night, laying waste to the poor food service workers who didn't make it through the Chili's hiring process.
"You'd rather it was bad than just okay?" I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted the conversation to play itself out.
"of course. If it's terrible, we can just forget about it, move on, never watch it again and go back to reading the comic. But if its just okay, we'll watch it over and over again, wondering why it doesn't really work. Every time it comes on cable we'll sit there, turn our brains off and wonder what went wrong and the next time we read the comic, all we'll be able to concentrate on is how easy it would be to just watch the shitty movie and fast forward to the parts we want to see."
It was the same reason, I haven't read Lord of the Rings in 6 years. I'm still waiting for Viggo Mortensen to get out of my brain. By this time, the reality was starting to set in, Randy was clearly unstable and I had no idea where we were heading. We rode in silence as the 210 turned into the 134. From there we took a southerly course. It was then that the first real rumblings of dread started to bubble up in my stomach. He wasn't really gonna go see Jeff and "settle the score" was he? Had things gotten to this point? Its amazing when you think how fragile the mind can be when a small thing like an average movie on a Monday night can wreak so much havoc. It also occurred to me that Randy was thinking strategically, he was coming in from the Highland Park side instead of the South Pasadena side...the square community wouldn't even know we were coming. There would be NO warning. As we climbed the hill up to the condo, I was trying desperately to get Randy to call this off."C'mon dude, lets just get some Del and have the left over beer from the Super Bowl. You know how long its been since I had some macho nachos? This is trouble we don't need."
"Your Tombstone references aren't going to end this situation and neither is appealing to my fast food nostalgia."
Well that was it, the play had been called, time to protect the quarterback.
Randy seemed calm but confident as we walked up to the door. His knock was firm but not overwhelming. Jeff answered immediately, even before the third knock was finished. Did he know we were coming?
"what took you so long?" Jeff said as he turned his back to us and walked inside. We followed.
"it's time to settle up."
"if we're gonna do this, we have to be quiet, Amanda's asleep."
"Don't worry this won't take long..."
And with that they were at each other. The action was fast and close like the dust ball you see when cartoon characters fight. I was amazed at their ability to anticipate each others moves. Punch, block, kick, duck. It was as if they were the antithesis of one another. But they were learning each others styles and soon the blows started landing. Jeff seemed to have the advantage, he knew the terrain, but Randy held is own by sheer brutal force. He didn't have to maneuver around the lamp or the coffee table he simply punched right through it.
I stood back, I wanted no part of this. If I remember right, I kept saying something like"Alright, you've both made your point, let's just get some beers!" My pleas had no effect. They were in a grapple, a stalemate; and neither was backing down. When they finally broke apart it seemed like an explosion had gone off between them and they burst apart to opposite sides of the room. As Jeff paused for a millisecond to catch his breath, Randy made his move. I could see right away what his plan was. Jeff was standing in front of an open sliding glass door and outside...thar be monsters. Randy used one of those two legged kicks where his whole body is parallel to the ground and caught Jeff right in the sternum. It was enough to put him down...outside. Randy quickly slid the door shut and slammed down on the door lock. As Jeff began to get up, the first of them came. As Jeff realized what was happening the look on his face was something I won't soon forget. He made a move for the door but their numbers were too great and they were coming from the trees and down the hill like a flood. Raccoons. They were everywhere. On top of Jeff all you could see were those little raccoon hands, claws glistening in the moonlight, raining down scratching blows over and over again. The high pitched screaming came in short bursts at first as Jeff tried to roll and thrash around in an effort to shoe them off. It only made them madder. When they pinned his arms the screaming became constant. The last thing I saw was a mess of brown and black fur.
"I can't watch this...lets get out of here." I said.
"Now its over." Randy said as he walked out the door.
Randy, didn't talk the whole way home but that shit eating grin never left his face.
As for Jeff, I'm sure he made it out okay, nothing a few band aids and a little iodine won't take care of.