Robbery Scare In My House By Joseph Edgar

Early yesterday morning against my usual grain of thought, I decided to attend the area meeting. The ones communities hold during the environmental sanitation exercises. I had stopped attending mine, because of the usual lame discussions and banal attempt at showing off by people who used to have money, but are now struggling and at the same time refusing to eat the humble pie that comes with apparent poverty.

Well this time, the discussion was the rash of robberies and vandalisation that has been going on in the 'close'. I had been a major victim and indeed the most tormented in the whole area. I happen to rather unfortunately have five cars parked in my compound, so the label of 'rich' man follows me. Nobody seems to notice that three of the cars have seen better days and that the other two are official cars. All I get is different stares when I walk pass, appreciation in prices and being a soft target for burglary and vandalisation.

As usual, discussions went in circles and as always is the case, ethnicity came into play, religion also became a major topic and finally no concrete decision was reached as to how to curb these robberies. I left the place with the same impression I have always had, that it's their children and wards that carry out these nefarious activities, or how do you explain how my apartment which is just one out of six is the only one that gets burgled monthly. How do you explain the fact that during the burglaries only my bedroom is ransacked and broken into and also in my bedroom, only my wardrobe is picked out for special attention. Also, of all the ten cars parked in my house, only my five get vandalized and the others never get touched.

Well, with that mindset I go about my activities during the day and get home late as usual. As I enter the house, I bolt the doors and switch off the lights and begin scanning the net in preparation for my journey into solo seeking pleasures, when I hear the softest of knocks on my door. As I ignore it, it comes back ever so persistently, irritating me and disturbing my sweet journey into melancholy. So I stand up dropping the IPad and walking to the door, peep at the pigeon hole and see nobody.

I hissed and went back to my pursuit, only for the door to keep rudely interrupting me. This time with anger I open the first door but just as I was about to open the second, I decided to be careful, so I peeped again and still saw nobody. All of a sudden I saw a shadow and I bent down. Low and behold, an urchin was crouched by the door. He was the one doing the knocking and each time he knocked, he crouched so I could not see his face, but I saw his dirty long nails peep out of a weather beaten slippers.

I said, ok. Today is today and quickly went into my Swarzeneger mode. I jammed the door again, woke everybody up and moved them into the store, pushed them into the overhead cupboards displaying pots and pans. This was war and I did not want the kids seeing their father engage the enemy so the sight of the robbers blood will not scar them for life. Once I had secured them, I asked them all to pray for the lives of these robbers, that God should accept their soul as I was dispatching them to him.

Went into my room, started gathering my weapons. By this time, the knock was getting more aggressive and impatient. I brought out all the weapons I had kept for a day like this, my belts- the Gucci one with the huge big buckles, my Versace belt with the mighty medusa head, my suede shoe polish for blinding eyes and my hard heeled boots from Primark. Arranged them properly in order of usage and began reciting the strategy. This was for the first engagement, assuming they were teenagers and unarmed. For the second engagement, which would involve medium use of force, I brought out my second degree of weaponry. Out came my mortar and pestle. The pestle for hitting the groin and mortar for covering the head while the pestle was working the groin area completely turning the dick and testicles into mashed potato and finally where they were a team of robbers fully armed, my final weapon was ready, my phone. The phone was to call for help even as I jump out of the third floor balcony, landing on the roof of my Honda Pilot and rolling on to the roof of the BMW and landing on the bonnet of the Kia Sportage and running as fast as I can to my mother in Fola Agoro.

Now the weapons were ready, i had to dress the part. I brought out my pink echo pants, this was to send a wrong signal of weakness, making them feel I was effeminate and as such I would be easy target thereby taking them by surprise, next came out my Michael Kors wristwatch, recently bought in the UK. This was to time my engagement with the Robbers, reminding me that this battle must end in exactly 10minutes. After that, my Tommy Hilfiger polo top came out, complete with its huge badge by the left hand side of my chest. This was to stop bullets finally, my Brooks Brothers ankle length boots came out. This was obviously meant for that decisive kick to the mouth, removing all teeth of the five robbers at the same time while blinding them with an accurate and lethargic spray from my brown suede shoe polish and finally tying them up with my over 21 different designer belts leaving them in piles of sorrowful regrets.

After all these preparation, I went back to the room, making sure my family were ok and asking them to pray one last time for the souls of the sons of dogs I was about to despatch to Hell. I apologized to them, for allowing them at such a young age to witness the carnage that was about to unfold but still reminded them that these are the things a man must do not only to protect his family, but also send a very strong signal that I will not continue to tolerate this kind of intrusion and violation. My kids begged me to show the robbers mercy, that I should not kill them but just incapacitate them and hand them over to the police. I told them that enough is enough and that this time they must die.

So I came out of the room, stood at the beginning of the corridor leading to the godam door where the perfidious, slimy hyenas where still crouching oblivious of what was about to happen to them. I started my walk, a walk of confidence, a walk I had seen many action heroes walk, the kind of walk Sylvester Stallone walked as he approached the enemy, just before he killed one hundred with one blast of his sawed off shotgun. As I reached the middle of the corridor, I remembered that I had not put on my headband. Kai, the headband that will complete my look, so I ran back and could not find it. Where is this Godforsaken headband when I need it most. No time to look for it, there are people that need to die, so I made do with madams scarf. The same scarf she used to to tie my legs for two days when she saw a n......e pic on my phone. So I tied the scarf on my head and brought out my HTC phone and took a selfie. This was for CNN so that they can get the story right when they are reporting. I started my work again, to the sound of Michael Jacksons ' Beat It' ringing in my head.

When I got to the door, I heaved a huge sigh and told myself, This is it. The beginning of the apocalypse, the rapture was about to begin, I was about to unleash the kind of violence that has not been seen since the atomic bomb was dropped in Hiroshima and Nagasaki during the Second World War. As I stood there, I pitied the mothers of these bastards, for their skin was going to be shredded and turned to suya for the vultures already circling the roof of my house sensing a feast.

I stood there arms akimbo, hands firmly stuck to the suede polish, boots hitching to kick somebody and bloody mouths and a strong resolve not only to kill but to savage turning myself to a blood thirst Hutu tribesman. The moment has come, it's time and in one shriek, almost faint whisper I asked very calmly in a strong effort not to annoy and further aggravate for keeping my guests waiting for so long, 'sir, who is there?

No answer came. And the silence was defeaning, I asked again, Sir, who is there but this time, explaining why I had not come to the door earlier because I was bringing out the valuables not to waste their time and this time an answer came and it was Mohammed the hapless maiguard knocking as he usually does to tell us NEPA had brought light and that we should change over.

Kai, I piss for trouser.

http://josephedgarng..com/2015/06/robbery-scare-in-my-house.html

op nice write ups tho! I could easily paint the pictures of the story in my head.
It was funny also. Thumbs up

..

K

Somebody pls summarise d epistle for me...

glimpse33:

all dis space bookers....hen

eiya.... what a pity...

You don't expect me to read that do you?

Omo men FP again make I talk abi? This part one fool don too fall my heart too much of Acton films is bad oooo at ur age... u Better go open ur family from were u put them turn ur family to pot of soup

Ok

damn! wasting 5minutes of my precious time reading one damn god forsaking film.......

And it still carries a link?


YOU CAN LIE O

I beg this na cooked up lie . . Men you are very creative

Still reading

very discriptive.. . . good job

lol. sweet story but that mai gaurd for hear am if you bin launch your attack without enquiry

Make una dey fear God o

Hmm!

so hilarious

J

Ok

MOJIDELANO, you were my house captain in jss1

We need to see that selfie First! You go fear Rambo Now!