I Am Going to Kill You.*

I am going to kill you.

Yes, you, personally.

Hold on there.

Why you? Because you volunteered for it by meeting all the following requirements:

There is a magic line between innocence and mens rea. You crossed it.**

There is a magic line around my property. You crossed it.

There is a magic line around my house. You crossed it. It doesn't matter if my garage door is standing open, it's my door, not yours.

You had a gun and raised or refused to drop it when I told you to, or you had a knife, or you made any other action that I perceived as violent or immediately threatening toward me or anyone under my roof, or my property (which is the same thing as me).

It doesn't matter if you are a white friend of my white next door neighbor, the chico from across the street, the nice chinese family that walks down the block every night, or the black kids from down the street riding bikes casing the whole neighborhood two days ago. It doesn't matter if your mall-ninja outfit has a "POLICE" T-shirt over top of it.

I am a killer. And you are already dead. We are just waiting, you and I, for you to voluntarily fulfill the requirements for getting shot under my roof. Do me (and yourself) a favor: don't.


Inspired imagery from All You Really Need

*Technically, I am going to "shoot to stop" whatever it is you were doing that convinced me to shoot you in the first place. That is, I will shoot you as much as required to make you stop doing it. How many shots to your head can you survive?

**How do I know? Because you are there. Nice, non-felon types do not B&E my house. End of discussion. We'll let your family say what a nice boy you were when the crime scene cleanup people have finished removing you from my living room.