Kansas City, KS: Brad Fith, a 35-year-old accountant, stood outside of Stanford's Night Club in the blue collar district of downtown Kansas City. He was still dressed in his neatly pressed suit as he swilled warm Budweiser from a can.
His brother, Carlos, looked on as Brad jumped in place and threw his neck from side to side to loosen his muscles.
"Holy shit," mumbled Carlos as he finished off his beer and laid the bottle on the ground. "He's serious. I'm going to rip his balls off and feed them to the pigeons."
Fith had seen the movie "Fight Club" 43 times. He knew every line and could recite them on command. He bought into the ultra-masculine themes and identified with the disenfranchised protagonist. He had quotes from the book plastered all over his cubicle walls and sketched pictures of the characters in his notepad.
For countless hours he's sat in his cubicle playing out each scene in his mind with him as the lead character. Even 15 years after the film's release, Fith, still identified with it.
Soon, fantasizing wasn't enough. It was time to turn his daydreams into a hobby. He'd picked a bar in an upscale Kansas City neighborhood, one that he felt closely resembled the location in the movie. He asked his brother Carlos to tag along. Carlos would play the Brad Pitt to Brad's Edward Norton. Surely, others would delight in seeing the brothers pummel each other on a busy metropolitan street, as they did in the cult classic.
For countless hours he's sat in his cubicle playing out each scene in his mind with him as the lead character. Even 15 years after the film's release, Fith, still identified with it.
Soon, fantasizing wasn't enough. It was time to turn his daydreams into a hobby. He'd picked a bar in an upscale Kansas City neighborhood, one that he felt closely resembled the location in the movie. He asked his brother Carlos to tag along. Carlos would play the Brad Pitt to Brad's Edward Norton. Surely, others would delight in seeing the brothers pummel each other on a busy metropolitan street, as they did in the cult classic.
He'd gone over how that night, in front of the bar, might play out. He was sure he had examined every detail and planned for every contingency. Unfortunately, even with all the careful planning, he couldn't remember much until he woke up a few hours later in a hospital bed in midtown.
"Goddamn that hurt," he said through a wire bracket from his hospital bed. "I really didn't anticipate that getting punched in the face would feel so painful. Carlos punches really hard. I think that asshole broke my nose.
"What the hell was I thinking? Makes me think that some things in movies aren't safe to try. It looked like so much fun in the movie but this is bullshit. I don't know who yet, but I'm suing the shit out of everyone about this."
"What the hell was I thinking? Makes me think that some things in movies aren't safe to try. It looked like so much fun in the movie but this is bullshit. I don't know who yet, but I'm suing the shit out of everyone about this."
Carlos, a large brooding Mexican, says that he could see the holes in the plan before it ever got off the ground.
"I told that dumbass that this was a stupid idea. He had this crazy fantasy that he was going to go off and be some leader of some stupid fight ring. I've never seen the movie so I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. I just think he's really sick of his job. He asked me if I'd go fight him in the street somewhere. He explained it as sort of think a public relations deal. I said sure, as long he buys all the tequila and I get the first punch. The idiot agreed to it. I've wanted to do that to him for years."
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