"Before You Punch Me..." by D. M.

Larson
In a dimly lit room, tension fills the air. Two men stand face to face, circling each other in a
palpable stand-off.

Man 1: "Before you punch me there is something you should know."

Man 2 clenches his fists, rolling his eyes. His knuckles whiten.

Man 1: "This woman we're fighting over is no ordinary woman... You don't know how good you
had it."

Man 2 narrows his eyes, his jaw twitching but still restraining himself from throwing the first
punch.

Man 1: "If I am going to die, I want the world to know how great she is... Why do you want me
to shut up? You afraid?"

Man 2 scowls, shifting from foot to foot but doesn't respond. The tension escalates.

Man 1: "You afraid I will say something that will hurt you? You that sensitive? You gonna cry,
Softy?"

Man 2 grunts, his nostrils flaring but maintains his composure, waiting.

Man 1: "Then listen... Punch me all you want when I am done... Beat me to a pulp, but let me
say how I feel... For her. Do this one kindness for her... She's worth it."

Man 2 hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

Man 1: "Do you know about serendipity? Word too big for you? I should stick to one or two
syllables when speaking to you."

Man 2 snorts but says nothing, his clenched fists trembling slightly.

Man 1: "Serendipity means a 'happy accident' or 'pleasant surprise'; a fortunate mistake. That's
what our love was... A happy accident. We didn't plan on this."

Man 2 inhales sharply, visibly affected but trying to conceal it.

Man 1: "She is amazing. She is so very good... She has made me happier than I thought was
possible. Before her, it was like I was living in black and white, and suddenly she brought color
to my world."
A noticeable softening occurs in Man 2's eyes, but his fists remain clenched.

Man 1: "And by some miracle, she chose me. She was the princess to my pauper. The Batman to
my Robin. The Picard to my Wesley Crusher. And her kisses will last me until death... Which
might not be very far off."

Man 1 starts to tremble, a mixture of fear and emotion overtaking him.

Man 1: "Yes, we're talking about the same woman, you idiot."

Man 1 removes his glasses slowly, holding them in his hand.

Man 1: "And now you can punch me."

Man 2 looks at Man 1, his fist raised but suddenly unclenches his hand. The tension diffuses,
replaced by an unspoken understanding. Man 2 lowers his hand.

END