When I was working graveyards at a gas station, one night some little punk azn kid tried to hold me up with a deer-skinner. Now, this kid is maybe 5', I'm 6'1" and standing on a platform that's a few inches high, so I'll give him props for being ballsy.
Anyways, he pulls out this knife and waves it at me, he can barely reach over the counter cuz he's such a squat fucker, shouting at me in badly inflected english 'give me all your money'... so I reach down, grab the louisville slugger under the counter and say "I'm going to give you to the count of five before I come over this counter and cave in your fucking head."
He was quick, too. Out the door by the time I hit three, nearly at the edge of the property before I hopped the counter and started chasing at five.
When the asst. manager came in at 6am to do shift change, I told him to go in the back and look at the surveilance tape. I could hear him laughing through the cinderblock wall... of course, he came back trying to look all serious telling me that I should have just given him the money.
