Pug on the Hill
As I continued further down the street, I witnessed a man dressed in a cookie monster costume on his hands and knees, pushing a whimpering pug wrapped in plastic up a mound of garbage bags.
I yelled “Faggot!” to insult the man and save the pug, unwittingly redirecting his fury upon myself. I knew I was in trouble. He walked into oncoming traffic and disrobed, revealing his identity: A dark haired man with a handlebar mustache, a white, frilly shirt, suspenders and brown trousers.
He invited me to fight him in the street and I obliged, though I was nervous. As the fight ensued, he bit me on the cheek, and I screamed at my friend to grab his junk.