"Your Mom" and Other Things You Shouldn't Tell Strange Angry Giants

There had been a number of split-second decisions that Alex had made over the years. Some of them had even turned out well for him. But as a whole he'd come to the conclusion that he needed to stop making them because he usually regretted it.

"Stupid," he huffed, pumping his legs harder as he heard an echo of his own feet pounding at unforgiving pavement. The sound was getting louder and louder the more he ran, his tail gaining on him in a way he hadn't expected.

His lungs were beginning to burn and his heart hammered against his chest. It wasn't all exertion either. He'd never been in a foot chase before, and while he'd always been a bit of a thrill seeker, he found himself hoping fervently that it never happened again.

If he managed to live through the experience, that is.

"I'm gonna kill you, shithead!" a deep voice snarled breathlessly from way too close and Alex let out a terrible little wheezing sound in response and put on another burst of speed.

He swerved clumsily around a young couple that looked like they'd been out on the town. They gave a frightened shout as soon as they saw his pursuer, and Alex certainly didn't blame them.

He still wasn't sure how a spilled drink had led to a huge angry man chasing him down a poorly lit street at half past one in the morning.

A few cars passed, and the pair flew by a handful of 2nd shift workers and drunks that hollered at them, though Alex barely paid them any attention. There would be no help from that quarter. He didn't blame them either.

He really shouldn't have insulted the man's parentage or called him a clumsy oaf. But in his defense, what kind of psycho reacted that way to a terrible "your mom" joke and some school yard bullying?

This one giant psycho, apparently.

He glanced back over his shoulder for a split second, taking in the man's flushed complexion, heavy, furrowed brow and wide, snarling mouth. His pursuer's face brought to mind names like Ivan or Bosco, but Alex thought his buddies at the club might have called him Lennie.

He blew out a strained breath, wishing that he hadn't come out alone that night, hadn't drank enough to lose that one moment of common sense, hadn't pushed Emma so hard and instigated a fight he had to walk away from. He wished he had just gone to his brother's house to cool down, instead of going to the club to blow off steam.

"Jesus-fuck!" He gasped as his toe caught on a break in pavement and he stumbled, barely catching himself from a nasty fall. It cost him a precious half second and several feet of distance between them.

God, Emma was going to be so much angrier at him. Instead of just being angry at him for being an asshole, she was going to be furious that he was reckless and stupid too.

"Hey man! Can't we talk about this?!" he choked, hoping the big bastard with his huge ears could hear him over the thundering in his ribcage.

"Gonna fuck you up!"

The voice was closer, too close and panic rose in him as he felt a tug on the back of his shirt. He let out a disgusting little "hurgk!" as the collar of his shirt jerked backward, abruptly halting his momentum and leaving a pain in his throat that he'd definitely feel later. He pulled frantically against the hold, turning and wriggling as hard as he could to get away. It felt useless, struggling against someone who was so much bigger than him.

He made eye contact with rage filled blue eyes for a split second, and wished he hadn't.

He was going to die that night at the hands of a giant lunatic for a bad joke and harsh words over a spilled drink. He'd never been more afraid in his life, nor felt more ridiculous.

He reared back harder, eyes wide as a big fist swung up at his face, but the brute's grip slipped from his shirt and Alex fell backward as the huge scarred knuckles passed over his head. A split second later, Alex's over worked body hit the pavement hard, but he ignored the flair of pain and rolled away just as a size 16 boot stomped down where he'd hit the ground.

He felt the drop that signaled he'd rolled right off the sidewalk and into the street, but kept going until he was far enough away to attempt to stand, and to run if he could.

He looked up as he clambered to his feet, swaying with exhaustion though the adrenaline of the chase seemed to have pushed the alcohol from his system.

"Jesus, man! You can't kill me over a "Your Mom" joke. That's nuts!" he shouted, scrambling back and turning to run again as Ivan/Bosco/Lennie lumbered toward him.

He looked around for some sign of help, a police station or a hospital would do. He hated the idea of either, and if he ended up in some kind of police report, Emma would kill him herself, but being beaten to death by a giant lunatic with no sense of humor wasn't an option either.

"So my mamma's a whore, I'm a clumsy asshole and now I'm crazy too?" said lunatic called and it took a moment of panicked thought for Alex to recognize that no, Ivan/Bosco/Lennie was not in fact psychic, just responding to the plea that Alex had already forgotten.

He was beyond words though, pushing past the terrible ache in his legs, the brutal burning in his lungs and the weighty fatigue that said he couldn't go much longer.

It took him more time than he cared to admit to realize that he was being chased down the middle of the street, that cars we're passing him and honking, and that he needed to steer them towards help. He'd been running blindly with no thought to where he was going, but now he swerved toward the right side of the road, turning right at the next intersection, and then again at the next one. There would be a police station in the next few blocks, and that would have to do.

He wondered if Ivan/Bosco/Lennie knew where they were headed and he listened to the big man's heavy footfall behind him. His pursuer was getting tired, slowing down maybe a bit faster than Alex was. That was a better sign than he'd heard all night. Maybe he had a chance, after all.

There was a sudden bleat of piercing, familiar sound and the quick strobe flash of red and blue lights to his left. He jumped and snapped his head towards the black and white squad car as it screeched into a hasty park job, but he didn't dare stop.

"Stop where you are!" a voice called as the police car opened and a short officer in blue stepped out. Alex wavered, coming to a slow stop at the commanding voice, hoping that the giant wouldn't take one look at her and dismiss her out of turn. Her hand was on her weapon, so he wasn't sure it would matter for anyone but him if he did.

He put his hands up, because he was pretty sure she was going to demand that next, and he was so intent on the officer that the massive fist came out of nowhere, throwing him to the ground. Pain roared in his face and a moment later his head split with agony and his vision began to swim. He barely notice the kick to his belly, though it made him vomit, and the pain in his head swelled until it felt like it couldn't possibly get any worse. His ears rang and he knew he'd lost time because when he came back into awareness the sound of entirely different sirens wailed distantly, slowly getting louder, and a big presence knelt near his head, making him flinch back. He squinted up at the man through one eye, the other swollen shut already, and readied himself to roll away again, but it wasn't Ivan/Bosco/Lennie. This man was black, wearing a blue uniform and frowning down at him in wary concern.

"Man, that guy clocked you good."

Alex wanted to make a sarcastic remark but as nothing in his brain seemed to be working properly and the whole left side of his face throbbed, it didn't take much effort to refrain.

"Hey Pettit, I think he's commin' around! Can you hear me, man?"

"Yeah," Alex croaked after a long moment to work out the answer that made sense. "S'Ivan?" he asked.

The officer frowned, or at least Alex thought he did, but it was hard to tell. "The angry giant's in the car. Ivan his name?" He asked. Or maybe Pettit did, but Alex couldn't be sure.

"Might be Lennie," he said in response, turning his head and searching for the other officer through his lone good eye. She was over by the car, radio in hand, watching them through narrow, suspicious eyes.

"Uh-huh. And do you know your name?" He looked back up at the officer who had a sceptical look on his face.

"Alex. My name's Alex."

"Alright Alex," here the officer sounded relieved. "The EMTs on its way to help you out, but in the meantime, you wanna tell me why you were being chased by an angry giant?"

Alex opened his mouth to answer and the only thing he could think to say at the moment was "Told him a really bad "Your Mom" joke."