The Squatter Part II

The next morning I had a doctor’s appointment so I was late getting to work. As I pulled into my private parking space I was shocked to find the same beastly vehicle that had been parked there the day before. I slammed on my brakes, got my taser out of my glove compartment and hopped out of my vehicle.

I crept around the side of the junk heap—taster leading the way in my clenched fist. What I came up upon was much more bizarre than anything I had expected. The trunk of the car was open and duct taped to it was a blue tarp. The tarp was tied to the branches of the holly tree that sat at the end of the driveway and served as a makeshift tent. Next to the tarp was a blazing fire fed by broken up pallets. Lying on a filthy sleeping bag was the bastard I had kicked out of my parking space the day before.

He turned a pigeon on the spit he’d devised using a car antenna. It actually smelled pretty good for pigeon.

I waved my taser threateningly. “What in the hell are you doing here you filthy cocksucker!”

He looked up at me. “Exercising my rights as a free American.”

“You misguided son-of-a-bitch. You’re not doing anything heroic or patriotic. You’re breaking the goddamn law.”

“One man’s law is another man’s prison.”

My grip tightened on the taser. “That’s not intelligent or profound. In fact it’s too goddamn vague to even make sense.”

He pulled at his beard. “You think you’re better than me.”

“Infinitely.”

“And that’s why I’m squatting on this land and claiming it as my own.”

“I see what you’re doing. You watched that movie Pacific Heights. The one where Michael Keaton plays a tenant who drives the owner of the house crazy, gets him to attack and then sues him to get his house.”

“I don’t watch movies. They distort my vision of reality.”

“News flash, your vision of reality is distorted. You see life through the bottom of a Coke bottle.”

I couldn’t control my anger any longer. I kicked the bumper of his car with my Burmese jungle boot. It started to roll. The idiot hadn’t put his brakes on. The tarp pulled from the tree and dragged through the fire and it was instantly aflame. One of the branches from the holly tree—which was being drug behind the tarp--caught the pigeon and it flew up in the air, and before I could dodge it the damn antennae—with the bird still on it—pierced my suit coat. I had a giant pigeon stickpin in my jacket. I tried to yank it free but the grease from the bird made it impossible.

“Goddamn, you.” I would have surely tased him if he wouldn’t have been chasing his car down the hill at the end of the driveway.

“Screw you.”

The blue tarp was on fire and was flapping behind the car like Dracula’s cape. I started after the car too and the crotch of my suit ripped. I kept up the chase though and soon caught up to the squatter. He was breathing hard and I jammed the taser into his ribs and squeezed the trigger. He fell to the wayside and came to rest in a flowerbed. I laughed evilly but my victory was short lived.

The contents of the trunk--what appeared to be receipts and old documents of some sort--had now caught fire and the car was headed towards a group gathered in front of the Capital. My sense of civic duty compelled me to keep up the chase and try to save the lives of any innocent protester.

“Look out runaway car,” I cried.

The crowd panicked and people scrambled to get out of the way. The flaming car hit the podium and then smashed into the capital stairs coming to a stop. The podium caught on fire but no one seemed hurt. I sighed. It was then I noticed the big sign hanging from the front of the Capital: People For Stray Dogs.

There was a big fence set up with about a hundred dogs inside it and when the car had hit the podium it had knocked part of the fence over. Now the dogs started to leak out through the opening and strangely they started coming towards me. I took a step back and dogs started to pick up their pace. I continued backpedaling and then it hit me. The pigeon stickpin was still hooked to my suit coat.

The dogs started sprinting towards me and I took off. They chased me through alleyways and through gutters. I spent the better part of the day running from them and was only able to rid myself of them when I was able to pull the pigeon from my suit coat and toss it to them.

Worn out, I made my way back to my office. Just as I got to my parking space a tow truck was pulling out. He had deposited that bastards burned car in my parking spot. I could see the squatter behind his car setting up camp again.

He peered out from behind his car and smiled. “Good afternoon, neighbor.”

I was too tired to fight back but tomorrow was a new day and I had a plan to get rid of that squatter once and for all.