Poor Trumplestiltskin; the day started with such promise. The new security wall that he pushed for as President of his gate-guarded HOA is nearing completion, so he decided to take a stroll around and admire it. The sun was shining brightly, the humidity low, the breeze light enough to not muss his hair, and the temperatures unseasonably cool. Already buoyed by the atypical early July weather, thinking about all the money he had secretly earned as a result of its construction warmed his heart and made him grin. In fact, he profited off of nearly every stage of the project, thanks to the the complex series of shell companies that he funneled the project through. He had even made sure that most accountants would, using commonly applied methods, judge the cost overruns to be within acceptable limits. The day was perfect.
Alas, the loud rumble of a motorcycle off in the distance broke his reverie. Trumplestiltskin initially thought it was a modified hog blazing down the nearby highway, but the noise didn’t fade away in the manner that it should. In fact, the noise grew progressively louder. Oh, well. Uncouth bikers sometimes came through the roads outside his community. At least the wall was designed to muffle such noises; he would’ve barely heard it at all had he been on the other side. Even so, it startled him to see that the cyclist was coming right him. Furthermore, he seemed to be wearing a mask and carrying a shield. Was this man some sort of villain who decided to rob him!?
He decided to run for the gate, hoping to find safety behind his beautifully constructed masterpiece. Unfortunately, the decision came too late. The strange man came to an abrupt halt between him and the gate, ran up to him, and cold-cocked him in a manner he hadn’t experienced since his days fooling around with a professional wrestling organization. In fact, the punch was delivered with enough force to send him flying into a small construction barricade located nearby. It’s very possible that he momentarily passed out, because by the time his vision regained focus, the strange man was already back on his cycle and riding away. Worse still, as the masked man drove away, he seemed to be holding one fist high in the air in celebratory fashion.
What the hell brought that on? He supposed it possible that the man was a contractor or small business owner that he had swindled in a business deal, but those individuals usually gave up once he forced them to settle their lawsuits out of court. Clearly, that is no longer the case. Some kind of bodyguard is now a necessity. But, who could properly serve as his avenging knight?