Jack Kukoda

Shit, man. I’m in trouble. I did something stupid last night. Really, really stupid. I accidentally killed a man in a brick fight. What’s a brick fight, you ask? Well, it’s when you fight another man using bricks. Duh.

I’m pretty well-known on the underground brick-fighting scene. They call me “College Boy” because I’m the only brickfighter who has any college education. Most of the other fighters are bums and transients whose lives have become so desperate that they’ve turned to fighting other men in alleys in the hopes of winning a few dollars.

I don’t brickfight for the money, though. I do it for the pride. Also, I just like bricks. If you asked me to name the five greatest things ever invented, you can bet your lazy ass bricks would be on that list. Anyway, back to how I killed that guy. Here’s how it went down: I hit him with a brick. Then he died. That’s all. There really wasn’t much to it. I’d say brick fights end in death at least 75 percent of the time. It was just a matter of time until it happened again.

Anyhow, the police are going to be looking for me. They’ve had it out for us brickfighters since the beginning. They’re probably just jealous. That, or they feel it is a serious detriment to the city to allow gangs of men to kill each other in alleys by throwing bricks. Whatever.