Westport Road

James and Nolimpkey sit Indian style on the ground with a six dollar jug of Chianti they had purchased from Thrift-Way between them and glasses in their hands. Over the tops of the jug and glasses they talk about hard times past, great things to come, and women. Sufjan Steven expels from the CD player and the lights are dim. After a few glasses philosophical thoughts creep in and despite the cold, these two young men are eager to get outside. They're only three blocks from Westport Road which is lined on each side with bars and clubs and is a prime hot spot on a Saturday night in Kansas City. Quickly dressing, James and Nolimpkey are anxious to get out to the streets and see what kind of fun they can find. They chatter back and forth, mostly about the aspect of bringing a grown woman back to the place though deep down they both know that chances are slim. Glasses filled to the brim, they go to head out the door. As if reminded of something, James stops and grabs his pocketknife and a lighter. It's just past midnight and a decent enough time to catch some type of action coming out of the bars and into the streets. As the guys approach Westport Road, immediatly they are pleased with their decision to come out. Music blares from almost every building. Some people even have their cars sound systems up loud and keep the party outside. Nolimpkey nudges James and points across the street at a group of four girls dressed up up for the night and stumbling drunk. They never do make moves on those type of girls but had the woman approached them first it would've been different. Besides, cop cars were everywhere and two underage drinkers with open containers in public should be sure to lay semi-low. Instead of continuing east on the main road they decide to dip off left into an alley. Laughing and yelling in the secluded alleyway, the young man can just act like wild hellians. James steps off behind a dumpster to piss. Nolimpkey, singing some off-the-wall ballad the he had surely made up, notices someone walking toward him. Just as he goes to open his mouth for a friendly salutation, the shadowy man is upon him with fists and kicks. The man is all over Nolimpkey with obvious intent to mug him. James, really not know what to do, runs out from behind the dumpster, grabs the man by the back of his tattered shirt, and pulls him off of his brother. The mugger, being much bigger than either James or Nolimpkey, knocks James back with a single blow and begins scrounging through Nolimpkey's pockets once more. Realizing that this is a matter of protecting not only his friend but his sense of security in this world, James is quickly back on his feet, fumbling around in his pocket for the knife. He knew there was some reason he had brought it along. The silver blade out, James walks in a strangely calm manner towards the assailant still pummeling his friend from time to time and hungrily going through his wallet. As soon as the man's back is in reach, James thrusts the blade in up to the handle, pulling it out and shoving it back in repeatedly. Blood all over the both of them, James and Nolimpkey run as fast as they can away from the scene and back to their home.