Note: this story was first posted on Jack Be Quick on February 5, 2005.
I just love the sound of patellar tendons snapping. It’s the sound of midnight vengence, of playing for keeps, of triumph.

I don’t think Johnny had ever hear that sound before. I came home from retail slavedom two Thursdays ago and found Johnnie’s car in my driveway. I thought it was kind of odd since he was supposed to work as late as me and then meet me home an hour later for barbecue. But you know Johnnie – he’s Mr. Spontanaeity. For him, nothing compares to living in the moment.

Well, hell, I thought to myself, I can live in the moment, too. I figured I’d sneak into the house and give him a little scare. So real quiet like, I go through the front door and down the hall into the kitchen thinking to catch him at the table with a beer. But no Johnnie.

I sneak around a little more, but then I hear noise from upstairs, so now I know I’ve got the little son-of-a-bitch snooping around in the bed room, right? I creep upstairs, and it sounds like my woman is up there, too. It sounds like they’re together. What the hell is this?

At this point, I figure sneaking is a good thing so I just barely crack the door and peek around the corner, and there’s Johnnie, doggin’ my woman.

I don’t know how you are, but when I get riled up, I focus on one thing at a time, my hands start shaking, my knees get all weak, and I start thinking really fast. That’s how I felt, sort of, but with a veneer of calm. Like I was totally keyed up, but I knew exactly what I had to do.

I stepped around the corner of the room and before either Johnnie or my woman could move, or even say anything, I drove my heel right through the back of Johnnie’s knee. It was a text-book kick, too. Woulda gotten at least two points at tournament.

Not only could I hear his tendons go *snap,* I could almost see the broken ends whip back and forth. And then Johnnie starts to scream. Little sissy. I told him to either shut up on his own or I’d make him shut up.

He kept screaming. I never make a promise I won’t keep. But that’s OK. Orange looks good on me; brings out the crazy in my eyes. And the guard, his name is Johnnie, too. Go figure.

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