There is no way you are going to let this little punk take your stuff. You get in a punch or two until you wrestle him to the ground. You sit on top of him so he can't move and wrap your hands around his neck, pushing in on his throat. His eyes bulge and after what seems like forever, he stops struggling and the light goes out of his eyes. Triumphant, you stand up and into the arms of a waiting career. He drags a knife across your throat, cutting you open.

 

You are dead.

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