50.

I slam the door and move onto Door Number 2. I think this was the room the Joe Cocker imitation and lies where coming from. I jiggle the handle and I'm met with sudden resistance. It's locked, this could be good or it could be bad. It could be locked cause it's a bathroom and someone's taking a shit, or it could be bad cause it's just some dick's bedroom and he locked the door cause he didn't want any drunks rifling through his vast porn collection. Hmmm... I press my ear against the door and stick my finger in the other. I close my eyes as if shutting out one sense will heighten another. I hear crappy modern R&B music playing and I hear what sounds like someone punching a pig in the stomach. Its sporadic and wild, no rhythm or tempo. My detective skills tell me someone's fucking. I oink loudly and turn towards Door Number 3. God, do I wish it's a potty. I move towards my last hope when who do I see come up the stairs? Mr. Mole. He bumps into the passed out girl I adopted from and doesn't even seem to care. Man on a mission. I'm trapped upstairs with him. Not a lot of options now. Maybe he'll miss me and walk right past. He peers around and immediately spots me. Our eyes meet and Mortal Kombat music starts playing. He hustles towards me and I realize that he's an awfully tiny man. Probably like 5 foot 3 at best. Real little, like a dog you carry around in your purse. He struts his tiny stuff right up to me and greets me with a firm shove. Right off the get go. I just incite violence in everyone, don't I?

"I just got a text from my bro that some fucking weirdo busted in upstairs and shouted some bullshit about drugs and youtube. I'm assuming that's you, faggot?" he spits between clenched teeth and finger jabs. Tiny little fingers, like a toddlers, prodding me in the chest. I'm trying to not let the rage wash over me, but me and Poseidon care little for homophobes. And someone texted him from upstairs to downstairs? Lazy fucking homophobes at that. I stick my neck and chin out, just begging him to deck me. I coyly mutter, "Yeah, well I don't like your hairy fat fucking mole."

His lips curl in and I can see a little boy cry behind those asshole's eyes. I think I hit a nerve. Even though the pendulums broken and gone and I still feel myself shift suddenly. I can't control myself and I start to feel bad about what I said. That was uncalled for wasn't it? I try to make it up to him and apologize by telling him that he, "has very nice eyebrows". And instead of accepting my compliment and playing it cool he just spews out, "Oh. So now you're hitting on me, faggot?"

Fucking homophobe.

I close my eyes and tilt back and then crash my forehead into the top of his nose.