I was maced once, though not because I was accosting someone. It was actually more the other way around. Grew up with some really nasty bullies, and I had carried mace with me in case they tried to beat me up. In a cruel twist, the bastards pinned me down and used the mace I intended for them on me instead.
When shit like that happens to you, your only comfort is plotting your eventual fantastic revenge. Unfortunately, the revenge never happened, not even in the "living well" sense.
Life is like a box of chocolates.
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