Some crazy jackass with a prybar broke into my hotel room in beautiful historical Williamsburg about 17 years ago. It was around 2:00 in the A.M. and I became instantly awake and grabbed my slightly modified M4 bayonet from the nightstand. He pushed and punched me to my knees as I stumbled out of bed; I stabbed up twice into his stomach. He ran out of the room wailing like a banshee, but lived to tell about it. More importantly, so did I. It took a year and a half for the police, the hotel and me to sort things out between us.