During my second stint at MuscleMag, a bozo blonde employee (advertising?) was engaged to the then up-and-coming competitor Fouad.
After a couple communications with him, we both came to realize we hated one another. He then took some passive-aggressive shots at me via email, etc.
Months later I was backstage at some competition and stumbled upon him (he wasn’t competing). Nudged him with my elbow and peered at him and he pretended not to have a clue who I was. Wouldn’t even acknowledge me while I hilariously leaned into him and stared into his soul.
Anyway, I am no fan, as you might guess.
Despite this, I don’t fault him for emerging from the house with a bat. Wasn’t exactly wielding it with any sort of proficiency, but whatever. A large man with another, and who knows who else in the truck, shows up outside his home after dark.
A bat is a good choice.
But further still, all the players in this scene are lame. The entire fiasco embarrasses each and every one of them.
Be best if each one commits suicide.
