[ WP ] you are a retired special ops soldier bored with civilian life , you decide to hire hitmen off of the dark web to kill you as a form of entertainment .

I finished the last of my basic stretches with a hand on a nearby park bench for balance. Still feeling a little stiff, I took a deep breath and began a slow jog down the concrete path. Nothing feels quite as good as an early morning run to get loose in the morning. Takes a bit longer to loosen up nowadays, but that's life. It's not like this park is ever crowded, so I can always take as long as I need. Calling it a park is a bit generous... it's one of those wetlands conservation locations that the city does to show they care. Just a small wooded area with a pond in the middle full of fetid water. But I do n't mind the smell and the moist air is much better than the middle east. 
 
 Seems like the guy today is a cut above the rest. No idea where he is, but I know he's watching. Or maybe she. That would be a nice change of pace. The temperature noticeably drops a few degrees as I entered the wooded part of the path. I slowed my breathing and made sure that I fully emptied my lungs with each breath. I noticed that I was clenching my jaw a little in anticipation. I let it slacken so it did n't disrupt my hearing. 
 
 As I came around a bend in the path I saw three geese standing on the path. Fucking geese. The one thing I hate about this park is the geese. Shitting all over the path and almost exclusively on the path. One of the geese, getting agitated at my approach, opened his wings and began hissing. I thought about just running straight through it, but like every time before I moved to the side of the path and went around. 
 
 The hairs on my neck prickled and I dove back toward the path. Something painfully grazed the side of my running shoe, but I break my fall with a quick roll and assess the situation. The guy was about 6 foot tall and wiry. Slightly smaller than me, but at least 10 years younger and dressed in a skin-tight black tee shirt and bicycle tights. Without a word, he closed the distance and brought his baton down in a slashing backhand. An ASP tactical baton. Would have broken my kneecap if I had n't dodged earlier. I was right. This guy was a step above. No shitty Louisville Slugger bat for this guy. 
 
 I shot forward rather than dancing back. Staying low, I deflected the baton wide with one arm while scooping up one of his legs with my other. I made eye contact before putting my head into his side and noticed there was no alarm on his face, just concentration. Good. Very good. 
 
 I threw all of my weight forward into him as I pulled his legs from underneath him to take him down. I felt him pull his legs up and his shins push against my thighs while he snaked a hand behind my neck and pulled. Ha! He's using my momentum against me. He might actually know how to fight. I let go of his leg and used an arm to push off the ground and regain control of my momentum. As I tried to somersault, I was pulled back when he trapped my other arm and ended up only landing on my back. 
 
 He gave me no space and was against me immediately while trapping an arm against the side of my head. I bucked hard against the ground and rolled to get my legs under me and was rewarded with the baton digging across my windpipe as he secured a headlock on me. I could feel my face getting hotter as the blood rushed to it... But I could also feel the heat building in my chest as the rage spread. This is it. The feeling you ca n't get anywhere else. 
 
 My smile was a grimace as I felt him jump and wrap his legs around me. We fell to the ground and I drove forward into him to maximize the impact. My head was awkwardly crammed into his chest, but I felt his legs were n't crossed yet and scrambled free of them. The pressure eased on my neck since it only had arm strength behind it, but he was stubborn and held on. I heard him breathing raggedly and slapped him open-handed across the face. His head bounced on the pavement and I heard a funny sound escape from his lips. I crammed my fingers and hand into his mouth as far as it would fit and wrapped my thumb underneath his chin. His bottom teeth dug into the palm of my hand and it felt great. I tightened my shoulder and wrenched my hand downward. 
 
 A sickly popping sound mixed with gagging greeted my ears and his grip immediately released. I took in glorious gulps of air and watched as my assailant writhed on the ground. His hands went to his face and then fell away with a groan as they found his dislocated jaw that was loosely hanging by skin. Blood was leaking from one side of his mouth and he choked. 
 
 `` Very good,'' I said between breaths,'' but this is hardly the UFC.'' 
 
 A hissing goose ran forward and bit at the man's neck. It repeatedly hassled him as he screamed and tried to roll away. A second later the goose ran away and shit all over the path as it did. I laughed hysterically. I will never get enough of this! 

