Rhino (talking to himself, pacing around the mobile home lot): Alright, Jason, just go handle it. Water theft. No big deal. Just a guy stealing water through some old utility meter. You’ve dealt with worse. What’s the worst that could happen? He’s just a guy with no water, probably reasonable… probably just gonna apologize…*
Narrator (watching the scene unfold): *I had no idea I was about to walk into one of the strangest days of my life. I was prepared for a minor confrontation, maybe a bit of shouting about bills and rates. I wasn’t prepared for… well, you’ll see.
Rhino (approaching the mobile home, knocking on the door): Hey, uh… yeah, hi. Listen, we’ve got a little issue here with the water. See, you’re hooked up to a meter that doesn’t belong to you, and uh… that’s not exactly legal.
Tenant #1 (opening the door, eyes wide and manic, water dripping from his hair like he just emerged from a lagoon): What do you mean, not legal? I need at least three showers a day, Jason. Minimum. You think I’m out here in this heat, surviving on two showers? Are you out of your mind?
Rhino (blinking, confused): Three showers? Look, I’m not here to discuss your hygiene routine. I’m here because you’re stealing water. This isn’t your meter.
Tenant #1 (waving him off, like he’s heard this before): Oh, please. The sheriff told me I could take water! He said, “You gotta stay clean.” That’s the law, man. It’s basic human rights. You think they’re gonna arrest me for water? I’ll tell them you’re withholding it. You want that on your conscience?
Rhino (narrating in his head): This is where things started to go sideways. Right about now, I noticed something else out of the corner of my eye. Another hose. Hooked up. This one wasn’t just sneaky — it was bold. It was tracing right back to me. I mean, to *my* water supply.
Rhino (turning, pointing at the hose): *Hold on a second. What the hell is this? That hose… you’re stealing *my* water now, too? I’m standing here, trying to handle this civilly, and you’ve got a hose hooked up to my supply?*
Tenant #1 (dead serious, eyes narrowing): *You shut off my water, and I swear to god, Ameren’s about to turn off my electricity. And you? You’re about to become the biggest problem in my life. You take my water, I take your life.
Rhino (narrating internally): This is the moment I realized things were about to escalate from mildly illegal to straight-up insane. Because out of the corner of my eye, I see him move.
Tenant #1 (pulls out a knife, moving like a wild animal): I NEED MY WATER! You cut it off, you take away my showers, I *will* go full tiger man on you!
Rhino (internally panicking, heart racing): *Oh my god, he’s got a knife. A KNIFE. This guy’s about to go full primal on me over a stolen water meter. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die over *water*. Is this how it ends for me?
Narrator*(calmly observing): *And this is the moment Jason Ramshaw, mild-mannered mobile home park operator, transformed into the Rhino. Not out of courage, but out of sheer, animalistic survival instinct.
Rhino (narrating): I’m not proud of this, but in that moment, I felt it — the Rhino energy. Fight or flight kicked in, but let’s be honest, I’m not a “flight” guy. I braced myself. I was ready. If this was it, I was going to charge back. Until…
From the side, out of nowhere, a fist flies. Enter Leon.
Leon** (bursting into the scene, yelling): *OH HELL NO! Ain’t nobody gonna shank my man Jason over some damn showers!
Tenant #1 (spinning, confused, but too slow): What the—?
Leon’s fist connects with Tenant #1’s jaw, knocking him out cold in one swift, brutal hit. The knife drops, clattering to the ground. Rhino stands there, frozen. Leon grins, hands on his hips, like he just saved the world.
Leon (laughing): That’s right! You don’t mess with Leon’s boy! See that? I told you, man, I got your back. You ever need someone to throw down with some crazy water-stealing tiger man? I’m your guy.
Rhino (still in shock, staring at the unconscious tenant): What the hell just happened? Did you… did you just knock him out?
Leon (proudly): Damn right I did. That’s what you get when you try to come at Leon’s friends with a blade. You think some water problem gonna scare me? Pfft. Leon handles everything.
Narrator (calm, as if this is just another Tuesday): And this is where the cops finally showed up. Because of course, someone had called the sheriff. And they, like most law enforcement, had some sage advice for us.
Sheriff (casually, like this is all totally normal): *Well, looks like you got yourself into a bit of a situation, huh? Now, listen, Jason. If a guy comes at you with a knife next time, don’t handle it yourself. Just call us. We’ll take care of it. No need for heroics.*
Rhino (sarcastically, deadpan): Yeah, sure. Just call you guys. Let’s forget the fact that I almost got murdered over water.
Sheriff (ignoring him): And definitely don’t bring a gun from Missouri to Illinois. That’ll land you in a whole lot more trouble. Let the law handle these things.
Rhino (nodding, still processing): Right. No guns, no knives. Call the cops. Got it.
Sheriff (patting him on the shoulder): *Good man. Next time, just give us a call. You don’t need to fight any more tiger men.*
Leon (grinning, throwing his arm around Rhino): Man, you don’t need the cops when you got me. Leon’s got you. Call the cops? Pshh, I’ll knock out a fool before they even get here.
Rhino (laughing, shaking his head, finally snapping out of it): Yeah, maybe I don’t need the cops after all. I’ll just call Leon. When everything goes sideways in my community, I call *my* Leon.
Narrator (watching the scene dissolve, tenants, sheriffs, and Leon milling about like this is all perfectly normal): And that’s how Jason Ramshaw learned that in the world of mobile home parks, survival isn’t just about fixing leaks or handling complaints. It’s about having a Leon. Someone who shows up with a six-pack, a wrench, and a willingness to knock out a knife-wielding tenant if the situation calls for it.
Rhino (walking away, laughing): *No more Missouri guns. No more threats. From now on, it’s just me, Leon, and a fist that’s faster than the sheriff’s arrival. Sounds like a plan to me.
—
The End.
