“Squad, take down this door. DownToBuck is going down just like his little friend.”
The NBA enforcers are at my door, just as Dawk Ins had warned me. I look down at my cat. “Japurri, to your station,” I command. “If war is what they desire, war is what they shall receive.” I put on my WWII-era M1 helmet and grab my katana from its case on the wall. Japurri scurries out of my office and to his kitty condo.
I am caught by surprise when the intruders, frustrated by my impenetrable solid-steel door, instead burst through the weaker drywall to the side.
“DownToBuck, we know you’ve been uploading NBA content to your channel!” yells the squad leader, face obscured by a gas mask and body covered head-to-toe in some kind of all-metal body armor. “It ends now.”
“Japurri! Now!” I yell. From inside the kitty condo comes a lobbed grenade which detonates at the feet of one of the enforcers. His agonized death-screams fill the air as he sees that both of his legs have been blown to tatters. Then, the fight truly begins.
I am charged by two men wielding nunchuks. Parrying their swung attacks with my blade of pure Japanese craftsmanship, I eviscerate one of them cleanly. He falls to his knees as if worshiping me, but behind his eyes is not reverence, but instead, cold death. The other one resumes his efforts to reach me, but with his short-range weapon, my katana swings keep him away. Getting impatient, he attempts to duck under my weapon, only to have his head cleaved neatly across the center of his face. The pink mass of his brain splashes onto my carpet.
“You bitches! You bitches!” I spit out in anger. At the edge of my perception I can hear furious hisses as Japurri takes out several more copyright goons with his well-aimed grenades. The leader has retreated somewhere, probably to the kitchen, as his men, unequipped to deal with my well-planned resistance, continue to fall. I retrieve a large shuriken, or ninja star, from a hidden slot in my bookcase, and throw it like a frisbee straight into the exposed neck of a foe. Blood sprays like a firehose as his fingers feebly claw at the metal disc, but those fingers soon stop moving as he breathes his last breath.
There is only one person left: the lead enforcer. His words now are softer, pleading: “DownToBuck, you win. You can keep your channel. Just…just don’t hurt me!”
“You hurt my friend; you hurt Dawk Ins. After all he did for you! Mercy is the last thing you deserve, slimeball,” I snarl, advancing on his cowering form with the point of my blade pointed right at his heart. I can see that he has already been wounded by one of Japurri’s grenade strikes.
“He got what he had coming,” the leader says in one final act of defiance, knowing that the end is near for him. His breath comes in short pants. “A pity that I couldn’t take care of you myself. But there are more of us, DTB. Many more. Remember that.”
I do not react to his words. “Highlights will live forever,” I say simply, before impaling him cleanly with my sword.
The deed done, I have no time for celebration. I must find where Dawk Ins is being detained.