Her live feed exploded with cruel comments. Peg-Leg Pete strikes again. Toy soldier needs his binky. Should have stayed in the sandbox.
The metallic taste of suppressed fury flooded my mouth. But I kept my camera steady. Every insult, every threat, every moment of their entitled destruction was preserved in digital evidence for prosecutors who did not care about Daddy's golf buddies.
"My mom told me all about broken veterans like you," Brooklyn continued, swaying dangerously. "You think the world owes you something because you got hurt playing war."
"I am documenting property damage for insurance purposes," I replied calmly.
"Document this," she snarled.
She grabbed a beer bottle and hurled it at my garage. Glass exploded inches from my head, shards embedding in metal like grenade fragments.
"Oops," she giggled for her audience. "Accidents happen when you do not know your place, right, guys?"
The live stream comments went wild. Her followers ate up every cruel second, but Brooklyn was just getting started.
Around 2:00 a.m., as the chaos reached peak destruction, she made her real move.
Through my trail cameras, I watched her and three frat boy accomplices approach my garage. Not stumbling drunk anymore, but moving with predatory precision. One carried professional bolt cutters. Another had a smartphone with security bypass apps.
They had studied my routines. They had planned this theft like an operation.
"Remember what Daddy said," Brooklyn whispered, loud enough for my hidden microphones. "We were never here. This never happened."
My garage lock yielded to their tools in 90 seconds. Professional execution, not amateur hour.
Motion sensors triggered floodlights that lit the scene like a stadium. Brooklyn squinted into the glare but did not retreat.
"Just grab the keys," one accomplice urged nervously.
"Relax," Brooklyn snapped. "I am literally untouchable here. Dad owns Judge Watson. Chief Martinez plays golf with him weekly, and half the city council owes us favors."
She grabbed my ATV keys from the pegboard like claiming a trophy.
"Besides, who believes crazy veterans over respected families?"
The engine roared to life, exactly as I had programmed it. They could not know I had disabled the kill switch remotely, turning my machine into perfect bait.
Brooklyn climbed aboard, revving with malicious glee.
"This is what happens when nobodies mess with royalty."
She tore out in a spray of gravel and arrogance, her accomplices scrambling toward getaway cars.