When I think of Tarzan, I think of the Disney film. I see a conflicted creature that doesn’t fully belong anywhere; a lonely existence that is only changed by the addition of other misfits.

In response to the situation, let’s face it; the guy has a muffled hammer. I’m not daft. If he’s willing to beat his dogs to the point of death, bloodying a human isn’t too far removed.

The right thing to do would probably be to whip out your handy dandy blaster and vaporize that menace to society. That is, if you could cope with the responsibility and possible ramifications. Barring that, I would boot scoot out of there. Once I had put some distance between myself and the guy, I’d call the ASPCA or its equivalent, and probably the regular police for good measure. Who knows, maybe the guy has past interfering students buried under his house or something. It’s better to blow whistles than ring funeral bells.

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