Nasty last taste

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." said the young man as he rounded a corner, then he stopped cursing and though even if he was having a subpar day, he found cursing to be... uncouth, as one might say.

"Well, that's less than desirable," he said as his progress was stopped by a dead end of the alley and surrounded by three apartment buildings, but the dogs were getting closer, so he set his teeth and went forward.

He walked up to a corner of the buildings and by bracing his hands and feet on each of them he could shimmy up uncomfortably. He looked down, which was a mistake, twenty feet below him were five slobbering German Shepherds barking.

He managed to get to a window and bashed his head against the glass pane, it shattered and he climbed inwards, luckily no one was occupying the place, so he stood, straightened his coat, ran his hands though his hair, dusted the glass shards off he pants, whipped the blood off his forehead, and went through the door looking as natural as possible.

Then he found himself in the direct view of a weathered old landlady, and he promptly planted one foot on the ground and stomped the other on the poor doors lock across from him.

This room was occupied, and he calmly walked pass the screaming man to his window, opened it up, and jumped. He fell twenty feet into a roll, and after popping his foot back into place he stood and walked past the boggled eyes of the few onlookers at this time of night.

Only to round a corner to bump into a big burly bloke, "Well hello there Steve," he said cheerily, the bloke was not nearly in such a good mood and struck out with a knife. the guy sidestepped, went under his swinging arm and lurched back up to deliver an uppercut to the blokes nose, pushing it up into his brain.

"Well, damn, meant to hit you in the jaw, honestly now, how dare you move your head back like that. I mean, really, do you have no class?" He stepped over the body and walked forward toward the bus stop at which he sat on a bench and waited.

After a few minutes three dark figures came up behind him, "you do know the bus operators in this area are on strike, right?"

"Oh, yes, thank you sir I've been sitting here looking positively silly for quite some time now." The young man stood up, turned, and slashed at the figure with a knife, jumped over the bench on to the second figure, proceeded to do his best impression of a hungry vampire, and rolled backwards into a standing position.

"A bit salty," said the man. He then silently thanked his ancestors for moving to America as he pulled a pistol from his jacket and shot the last figure in between the eyes. He then turned on his heel, and started to make his way across the crosswalk only to be accosted by two bright headlights belonging to a semi-truck.

He briefly thought of his nasty last meal and how terrible a taste it had left in his mouth. "Well shi-" he started before being rammed into by a twelve ton killing machine.