Tri High said:

They'll have crime scene investigators/analysts out there to look at the positions of everything and the relative story to try and find out how it went down really.

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I'd imagine, though, that this guy could get some charge for having the katana.

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Prisoner#1 said:

except maybe in california where it's illegal to own anything

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I'd imagine, though, that this guy could get some charge for having the katana.

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learningtofly said:

Prisoner#1 said:

except maybe in california where it's illegal to own anything

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except

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it's so stupid how we cant get both

DarkMoon21 said:

Rapier swords are around 4 feet, samurai's are significantly shorter. Haro On Korn, your an idiot. Making assumptions based on what? A disliking for undergrads? Some unreasonable contempt held for sword owners? People who get robbed repeatedly and stick up for their right to their own property?

Shut the hell up. Seriously. Your a jackass troll and nothing more, or an incredible idiot. The picture has been painted several times already, but let me try again.

You're sleeping soundly, dreaming about having sex with a beautiful woman on a sandy beach on a golden sunny day, redwoods sighing and waving peacefully in the warm wind above you, providing the lyrics to your glorious song of love. All of a sudden a great hairy sasquatch jumps out of the woods, running towards you both. Without time to get up, you try to protect your lover as best you can, or (more likely in your case) you roll off the girl, forcing her down to keep the beast busy and try your best to run away, screaming like a little she-male. Despite your best efforts, the sasquatch runs you down, strikes you until death.
Upon the death blow, you awake with a start to a loud noise in your garage. Almost sounds like somebody forcing the door open, or maybe dropping something. Your not entirely sure, but, remembering the break-in just a week ago in which some expensive technology was stolen, you grab the closest feasable means of defense. A decorative samurai sword you bought during the height of your japanese-culture obsession. An honourable weapon, and respectably deadly in your hands. Those hours of ninja games are paying off, and you feel admittedly powerful creeping out your bedroom door.
The closer you get, the more that power dwindles. Insecurity and speculation plagues your fearful mind, and the dark, empty hallways do nothing to help that dangerous doubt.
"What if they have a gun?"
"What if there are more than one?"
"How strong are they?"
"What if they're here to do more than just steal?"
"What if they come up behind me?"
"Oh fuck, I'm over my head here."
As you get outside the door to the room of the noise, you pause and consider your options. Fear grips your heart, and you question whether you should just call the cops and go back to your room. No, they could get away in that time, stealing yet more of your valuables that, as an undergrad, you most certainly can't afford to replace any time soon. Fuck that, you need to defend your property as best you can, at least make an effort to send them off with a fear of this place in their hearts. Once again, the courage of an avid gamer with a sword takes hold. With a rush of adrenaline you burst into the room, expecting the worst.

Instead there's nothing. No noise, no bullet boring a hole into your skull. You pause and look around, but only for a moment. All at once the sounds of movement in the shadows to your left. Something or someone lunges at you fast and hard. Without thinking, you strike once, making contact, but the momentum of the lunge carries your opponent ever closer to you, so you step back as best you can and strike again, then jump to the side. There's a horrid groan of pain, you can see a black fluid you presume to be blood pouring from the lump on the ground as it moves slowly. Scared as ever, you run out of the room, promptly calling the police for assistance, then go back to see if the person's moved at all. They haven't, and there's no evidence of breath or life anymore. All that's left is to tell the police the truth.
"It was self-defence" You assure yourself, knowing full well that some wouldn't believe you.
Take comfort in the fact that you did what you thought best at the time, and hope for the best. The truth is your friend, and your friends will thank you for protecting them and their belongings. You hope.



Okay, I got a little poetic there, but you have to admit that this is a scary ass situation for anyone, undergrad, parent, child, or trained assassin to be in, and I'm sure, unless you're a complete coward, you would react in a similar fashion. Especially if you were robbed only days before.

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