Way back when I rode a bike on a regular basis, I had a 10 mile loop I'd do to the river and back. Mostly downhill out and all uphill back. Country road, unmarked pavement, narrow and winding.
Rode by a house that always had a useless fuck sitting on the porch and two useless fuck mongrels that would set out after me like I was a fucking rabbit with a bag of milk bones tied around my neck.
They'd come at me from both sides, nipping and my ankles and yelping like all Hell. Asshole would sit on the porch, sipping his malt liquor and smiling.
I duct taped my holster to the nut bar and slipped my Buckmark in nice and snug one day.
Everything played out as expected, and as I rounded the bend and out of sight of the porch, with the two wolf wannabe's in tow, I checked for traffic and drew.
Pop-pop... and the one on the right tumbled in the ditch like a drunk gymnast. The other one hauled ass for the sanctuary of the porch, and that was where he stayed every ride subsequent.
Useless, he stopped smiling and waved in a friendly manner.