I stepped out of the shadows, a knife in my hand, and anger bleeding from my eyes and mouth.
“You gonna stick me? It was a joke. No harm. You weren’t supposed to go screamin’ like a baby. It’s your fault you ran into the street. Metal legs look better on you anyway.” Frank smiled.
I ran at Frank, the knife out in front of me like a sword, no longer than my hand.
“Just a joke, man,” Frank said and slumped like a hunchback. “Just a joke.”
The warehouse lights turned on. The singing began. Cheering sounded from the now brightly lit corners of the warehouse.
The knife bent against his chest.
“Your family already took their revenge. You think metal legs is bad. The only thing your brother let me keep was my face and my brain. Welcome to your surprise get well party.”