My Brawl with Jason Voorhees on Halloween 1983
Nominated ArticleI was sitting in my living room very late at night, watching the Friday the 13th franchise. Something felt off, though. I don't mean in the way some horror movies might make you uneasy; something felt really, really wrong. That's when I heard it.
KI KI KI MA MA MA
I immediately got up and looked out the window. That's when I saw the bastard.
Jason Voorhees. Standing underneath a streetlight. No weapon. No credit card. No signup. No bullshit. He's not here to kill me; he's here to lay a goddamn beatdown, no two ways about it. I'll be damned if I let that happen. Me and him were staring at each other for about ten seconds before he started walking towards my house. Time to face the music. I opened the front door and decided to meet him in the front yard. As soon as he stepped foot in my front yard, I sprinted towards him and shoulder charged him into the ground. I jumped on top of him and started punching him in the face. He drove his palm right into my chin, and I got sent flying back onto the ground. I got back up on my feet, ran inside my house, and locked the front door. It didn't take him long to break the door down. He walked in, and I hit him in the stomach with a few punches before he grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. I kicked him in the dick and balls, which made him drop me. He was hunched over grabbing his private parts, so I hit him with an uppercut that sent him stumbling backwards. I ran up and dropkicked the fucker right in the chest, which sent him flying into a coatrack. I ran upstairs while he was getting back up; I turned around, and he was closer than I expected. At this point I'm at the top of the stairs, and Jason is about halfway up the stairs. I lunge as hard as I can at him, leading with my shoulder. We both went tumbling down the stairs. When we landed at the bottom, I wasted no time, and I scrambled on top of him and started slamming the back of his head into the ground like a gorilla. He grabbed the back of my head and headbutted the hell out of me. I fell backwards and went on my hands and knees. He was behind me while I was bent over, and I thought I was about to say goodbye to my anal virginity, but instead he wrapped his arms around my stomach and fuckin' German suplexed me into the ground. I was seeing stars, and I still don't know how I didn't get killed or knocked out because of that.
He started dragging me towards the living room, and I grabbed onto the wall and held on for dear life while kicking and squirming around. Somehow I managed to escape his grasp, and I grabbed a nearby vase and threw it at him. Hit him square in the face with that sucker. He stumbled backwards and fell over the side of the couch. I quickly ripped a lamp out of the wall, jumped on him, slammed it in his face, and started wrapping the wire around his neck and pulled as hard as I could. Jason did not concern himself with that and grabbed me by the throat with both hands and threw me off and onto a table. He got the lamp off of his neck and swung it by the wire and into my face, which launched my head backwards on the table. He jumped on the couch and performed a moonsault on me. The table immediately broke. Goddamn, that shit hurt. Jason got up, grabbed me by the throat with one hand, and lifted me off of the ground. He raised me up into the air and chokeslammed the fuck out of me onto the broken table. It knocked the breath out of me. I grabbed a table leg, which had snapped off, and threw it at his face; it hit him, and he stumbled back into my TV. Goddamnit, there goes my TV. I decided to go upstairs to catch my breath for a bit.
I went into my bathroom to take a quick piss. Shortly after I started draining the snake, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Jason standing behind me, looking down at me. I reacted quickly and turned around to start pissing on him. He started squirming around, flinging his arms wildly. I ran out of juice, so I pushed him down and slammed the bathroom door behind me, quickly zipping up on the way out. I ran to my bedroom to grab my trusty Louisville Slugger, signed by Pete Rose. I stood against the wall next to the bathroom door and waited for him to open it. I heard it open, so I swung the bat as hard as I could at where his head would be at. I felt an impact and heard my sink break, so I turned the corner and saw my sink completely broke, him laid out on the ground, and his mask right next to him. He stood back up, and I saw the ugliest sumbitch I've ever seen in my life.
Good god. That has got to be the ugliest motherfucker this side of the Mississippi. I tried to rearrange his face into something prettier by smashing my baseball bat into his face, but it didn't work. He ripped the bat out of my hand and threw it to the side. I ran out towards the window at the end of the hallway. Fuck it, I'm sending him out of the window. He quickly follows behind me. He throws a jab, which I slip. I throw a right cross into his solar plexus, which stuns him for a second. Then, I throw a right hook which sends him stumbling into the wall. I grab him and move him in front of the window, and give him a quick jab for good measure. Then, I dropkick him with such force I'm pretty sure it could register as a small earthquake, and he gets sent flying out of the window. I hear a loud thud, so I peer over the window to look at him. He's slowly getting back on his feet, and when he stands up, he looks at me and gives me an approving nod. I gave him one back. Then he walks off into the woods. It was over. I did it.
I went downstairs to the fridge, grabbed two beer and a slice of pumpkin pie that I'd made. I went to the living room to watch the rest of the movie I had been watching. I was filled with immense disappointment when I realized that my TV had been destroyed in the fight; so I walked upstairs to my bedroom to watch TV there.
I still keep his mask in my drawer as a trophy from the fight. He knows not to fuck with me now.