I read a story about a man parking his car. Another man with severe road rage walked up and broke his window with a metal bat and tried to drag him out of his car to beat the crap out of him. The victim pulled a gun and defended himself against the road rage man. That story didn't end well for the road rager.
Nice to see that happen. When I was much younger I knew of a guy who was mugged by three men in a Sydney suburb. He was on the small side and they thought they had an easy mark but he had represented Hungary as a boxer in the 1956 Olympics. He broke the jaw of the first mugger, said the second had the softest stomach he had ever hit, and couldn't catch the third. I love a happy ending.
I've known a few people like that. My replacement turned up at work one midnight with his hand and arm badly gashed. He was drunk and, travelling in by train, was in a cranky mood. He thought there was a guy behind him and turned around and punched him ... but it was his own reflection in the inner-window of a train car. He certainly won the fight: although his arm was injured, the window was totally shattered.
Oh, yeah. It was public service so he couldn't be fired but they persuaded him to transfer out of the place a few months later and I lost contact with him. A pity. I liked the guy. He was pretty good when he was sober, which was most of the time.
Old story, from the glory days. While working in a South American country I always worked during daylight hours. Night time was extremely dangerous (you can fill in all the details). However as fate would have it I found myself in a mountain village way past sunset. I began my decent in a small ford sedan. I was immediately stopped by two men in police uniforms who demanded money and the car. I said fine and threw the car into gear (4 on the floor). They ran back to a car that had lights and a siren. Off we went blazing down a dark semi jungle road. I say semi because it had blacktop. It was like a scene out of a movie. I won't go into all the twists and turns. But we traveled long enough for me to compose myself and think. Reaching the top of a hill that I knew ended with a sharp turn to the left at the bottom I turned off my lights, reached down and pulled the fuse on my brake lights (you could manage that in those days, the cars were very simple). Half way down I could see them just reaching the top. At the bottom at the very last moment I turned left and kept going. It was like a few seconds more when I heard the bad guys crashing through the wooden railings at the curve. In my rear view mirror I could see their car sailing peacefully in the air. I stopped, replaced my fuse. Relieved myself and went on my way.
I knew a man that happened to, Pearl. He lost his temper and killed a man. It was one of those cases where everybody who knew him, including me, said, "But he's such a nice man." And he was. But when he snapped he went berserk. Took another man's life and ruined his own.
Benedict Arnold 