Itsgonnahurt.com | - Aiden From Boston.mp4

Aiden didn't scream. He just dropped. The camera kept rolling for three minutes—the silence of the basement only broken by the mechanical whir of the empty pitching machine. Just as the video was about to time out, Aiden’s hand appeared at the bottom of the frame, reaching for the tripod.

"I'm... I'm still here," he wheezed, pointing a defiant finger at the machine. ItsGonnaHurt.com - Aiden From Boston.mp4

Aiden reached out and clicked the remote. The machine hummed to life, a high-pitched whine that vibrated in his teeth. He braced his feet, hands clamped onto his knees. Thwack. Aiden didn't scream

The basement air in South Boston smelled like old copper and damp concrete, but to Aiden, it smelled like an opportunity. He adjusted the ring light—a cheap thing that flickered if he breathed too hard—and checked the frame on his DSLR. Just as the video was about to time

What kind of should Aiden face in the next chapter of his "career" as an internet stuntman?

The first puck blurred through the air, catching him square in the shoulder. The force spun him half-around, his skin instantly blooming into a deep, angry purple. He gasped, a jagged laugh escaping his throat. "One!" he shouted at the camera. "Is that all you got?"

The screen cut to black. Within an hour of the upload, the video had a hundred thousand hits. Aiden was a star, at least until the bruises healed and he had to find something even more painful to do for the next one.