Modern family The mafia Don

It was supposed to be a quiet Saturday afternoon.

Until Dustin Parrish showed up again.

He didn't go to their school. He wasn't even smart enough for public high school. Just a local neighborhood dropout — 19, maybe 20 — whose parents gave up trying to keep him in line.

He'd been picking on Luke Dunphy for months.

At first, it was taunts. Then bike theft. Then shoving him into bushes when nobody was looking. And Luke, ever the awkward kid, kept quiet. Always hoping it would stop.

It didn't.

Today, it got worse.

Out on the sidewalk in front of the Dunphy house, Dustin had Luke by the shirt, barking insults in his face while a couple of other local dirtbags stood by laughing.

Then a voice cut through it.

"Back off."

They all turned.

Alex Dunphy stood on the porch. Hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder. Calm. Still.

Luke saw her and bolted up the steps past her, scrambling into the house without a word.

Alex walked down.

The guys laughed. "What's this, your sister gonna call the cops?"

But she didn't say a word.

She just reached into her jacket… and pulled out a switchblade.

Your switchblade.

Click.

The blade snapped open.

Before Dustin could react, Alex stepped up and pressed it to his groin, her hand steady.

The other guys fell silent.

Dustin stiffened. "You—you crazy or something?"

She leaned in close, her voice low and lethal.

"You're going to walk away. You're going to leave Luke alone. You're going to pretend this sidewalk doesn't even exist."

He swallowed hard.

"And if I don't?"

She smiled faintly.

Then, as calmly as checking a homework assignment, she drove the blade into his hand.

Straight through the web of his fingers.

He collapsed to the pavement, screaming like a wounded dog, clutching his hand and writhing.

Alex wiped the blade on his hoodie, closed it, and walked back toward the house without saying another word.

That Night – The Dunphy House

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The front door shuddered. Phil answered it, still holding a sandwich.

BAM.

One punch. Phil hit the floor.

"Where's your daughter?!" Dustin's father shouted. "She attacked my boy! Stabbed him! Right outside your house!"

Claire rushed in. "What?!"

"You people raise monsters! She pulled a knife on him!"

Then came the rumble of tires.

A black Escalade glided to a stop outside.

Seamus O'Reilly stepped out, slow and smooth as ever.

He approached the porch like a man who owned it.

"Evenin'."

Dustin's dad spun. "Who the hell are you?!"

"Private security," Seamus said calmly. "Miss Dunphy is under protection by order of Mr. Vorran."

He handed over a USB stick.

"Footage from a private security drone. Clear as crystal. Dustin Parrish approached Luke Dunphy with clear intent to harm. Miss Dunphy intervened. He fell. No knife. Just a nasty landing."

Claire blinked. "Drone?!"

Phil, still on the ground, muttered, "This guy again…"

Police cruisers rolled up just in time.

Dustin's dad ranted, but the officers already had the footage.

It showed Dustin tripping. Falling on a sidewalk crack. Flailing. No blade. No blood.

"Sir, you're under arrest for assault and filing a false report."

The cuffs clicked.

Dustin's father howled as he was dragged to the car.

Across the Street

You stood beside Alex as it unfolded.

She didn't speak at first.

Then:

"You edited the footage."

You nodded.

"Deleted the blade. Changed the sound. Reconstructed his fall."

She stared at the cop car pulling away.

"He deserved worse."

You smirked.

"He got off easy."

Then she glanced down at the switchblade you'd handed her days ago.

And you saw it:

Not guilt.

Not fear.

Confidence.

Alex Dunphy drew blood in broad daylight.

You rewrote reality in the dead of night.

Together… you changed the rules of the neighborhood.