Milford Man Seriously Injured After Wrestling His Demons

Police and emergency medical personnel responded to a noise complaint at a house on Main Road in Milford today to discover the home’s sole occupant severely beaten, bleeding profusely, and half naked.

The injured party, Nils Olsen (pictured at the left), fancies himself to be an accomplished amateur wrestler.

His neighbors, on the other hand, told this Modern Philosopher that Olsen was a professional drinker, druggie, racist, and “obnoxious prick who never had anything nice to say, but always had something to say”.

The rickety house was in an advanced state of disrepair, littered with empty liquor and pill bottles, and wreaked of neglect, body odor, and moldy cheese.

Olsen was taken to Eastern Maine Medical Center for treatment while police searched through the chaos for any sign of his attackers.   “We’re sure there were multiple assailants based on the damage done to both the victim and the home, the numerous bare footprints of various shapes and sizes, and our general knowledge of Nils and his gift for pissing off a great number of people and beings,” one of the police officers told me as we sifted through the rubble.  “At this point, we’re leaning in the direction of otherworldly beings as being responsible.”

The green bile on the walls, the claw marks on the furniture, and the acidic urine stains that had burned holes through the floor seemed to back up the officer’s theory.

It wasn’t until I was allowed to visit Olsen in the hospital that I finally got a clear picture as to what had happened back at that disgusting little house in Milford.  “It’s all my fault,” Olsen told me from his bed, where his mouth, left eye, and right hand were the only parts of his body not covered in a bandage or wrapped in a cast.  “I got to drinking, took a few pills, and decided it was time to wrestle my Demons. ”

After a long pause to deal with the pain and to allow nurses to sop up blood from his numerous wounds, the patient continued.   “It hasn’t been an easy life for me, and I’ve always turned to booze, pills, and speaking my mind to cope.  Cuz of this, my Demons are big, ugly, and know how to fight dirty.  Most times, I can give ’em a decent whoopin’, but today they came at me something fierce.  They refused to abide by amateur wrestling rules, and attacked me all at once instead of tagging in and out like they’re supposed to.”

“I was just too f$%^&* up to fight back,” he confessed with an anger in his voice.  “I’m sure some folks will say I got what I deserved, and to those people I say ‘Go f#$% yourselves, you uneducated pieces of $%^* a$$@%^)+’.  When I get outta here, those bastards are gonna get what’s comin’ to them.  Mark my words in your pansy a$$ blog, Toga Boy.”

At that point, I lost interest in telling Olsen’s tale, and instead, became very excited about letting all local Demons or anyone with a beef know that he is currently in room 425 at EMMC.  There is no guard on his door, he has no roommate, and he is heavily sedated.

I’m sure Mr. Olsen would welcome all visitors…