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Only a three for degree of difficulty, but a solid nine point nine for effectiveness It all happened so fast that the rebar was still clanging on the floor by the time I went over and stood on his head. That is, I put my foot on his ear and ground his head against the old linoleum floor, threatening to put my whole weight on it. “Aggggh!” he said. He said it with conviction. I’m afraid my response was nothing to be proud of either, but then I was still full of adrenaline. I said something like “How do you like this, asshole?” My next line wasn’t much better: “Now what the fuck is going on here?” I received no answer. But that’s okay. It was pretty much a rhetorical question anyhow. “You’re in some deep fucking shit, both of you!” I snarled, stomping down on the obscenity pedal. “You,” I said, trying to lift hot asian cartoon school girl Bodine off the floor by his lapels, “had better get your sorry fucking ass out of here before the cops come, because they’re hot asian cartoon school girl on their way.” It was a lie, but he didn’t know that. Once again the movies let me down, though, and as I tried to jerk him to his feet like Bruce Willis always seemed to manage to do I broke a fingernail and ripped his shirt. He must have weighed two hundred pounds and my kick had turned him into dead weight. I couldn’t have moved him with a forklift. I stood up and wiped the hot asian cartoon school girl sweat from my head. I was full of adrenaline and my legs were shaking from fear. Bodine managed to pull himself up to his knees, holding his belly as if he’d been gut shot hot asian cartoon school girl, his face a funny purple hot asian cartoon school girl color. He gasped a few times, but no words came out. I’d really nailed him. He used a desk to get to his feet, but he still couldn’t talk, but now that he was kind of ambulatory I picked up my rebar and kind of pushed and shoved him across the office and out the door, all the while making noise about the cops and his ass in a sling and federal crimes and all that. By the time we got outside he was able to break into a shambling knock-kneed trot to his Corvette. He fumbled to get his keys from his pocket, then he leaned against the hood, bent double and puked in the weeds.