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Part 2 Chapter 3 Tear The Fascists Down https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKVnur5DkdI The day of the show arrived and we felt more ready than we had ever been. Again I had cautious optimism but in the back of my mind I was hoping that nothing stupid happened. I guess I momentarily forgot I lived in a stupid world. The first band played their set without any incident, but not many people had showed up at that point. Battle Cat went on next, and they all played at least as good as they did at Breezy's. I really felt like this whole touring band thing might turn into something actually productive, but I had to remind myself that this was only the second real show. The third band was Bonesnapper, and just as before that was the turning point in terms of audience and the moshing. Bonesnapper had created a decently sized fan base for themselves it seemed. Unfortunately that meant that the racist fucks often got wind of their shows. The first Nazi gently caress I saw was in full racist shithead regalia- shirtless and with swastika tats all over, thin suspenders supporting black cutoff fatigues, and Doc Martens with white laces. This dickhead was followed by a couple of others in similar garb and those two were doing their stupid Nazi salute as they bounced around the pit. So far though, nothing had really kicked off. Most other people in the audience were just ignoring them or laughing. Then a crazy looking motherfucker appeared. This guy immediately got my attention... it was impossible to miss his hair styled just like Hitler's (although blonde) and he even had the mustache (which was dyed black). He was clearly high as gently caress on something and was screaming a bunch of poo poo in what I guess was German. As I got a closer look I could see what I later found out to be a passage from Mein Kampf tattooed on his back. Skillet, Nard and Dookie saw him at about the same time as I did and they started to move toward him. gently caress. I really didn't want to deal with whatever was about to happen. I was having such a good time up to that point. Dookie and Nard went over to the Crack Hitler and politely asked him to calm down. He looked at them with crazy wide open eyes and did his little "Sieg Heil!" thing and turned his back and ran into the pit and headed straight for JD and Poodle. Normally JD and Poodle could handle themselves in a friendly good natured pit, but they didn't notice the new combatant that had just entered. The lunatic started throwing elbows right at their heads as he ran around, while his buddies were on the edge of the pit pushing unwilling onlookers into the fray. I saw JD's head snap backwards and as he went down I saw a trail of his blood arc through the air. Before I could do much of anything I saw a small shape rush forward then crouch down low followed by Crack Hitler's body flipping upside down. A wild Dookie had joined the fight! I don't know what he did but he sent that Nazi gently caress flying. Hitler's friends started swinging at anyone close to them. One punched Poodle right on his chin. Poodle didn't even flinch. He just stood there and by the look on his face I knew he had reached the point of I am not having this. That stopped me in my tracks. Poodle looked like he was about to go from poodle to pit bull. I remember seeing Poodle literally ball his fist, look at it, look at the Nazi, and then punch that racist gently caress right in his goddamn eye. I'm pretty sure it almost broke Poodle's hand because he really didn't know how to throw a punch properly. But drat, it was a punch with such intent behind it that it did the job very well. The skinhead stumbled backward and Poodle chased him, swinging wildly but swinging for the fences. JD was back online at this point and got into the mix as he started to swing and kick at the skinheads Poodle was tangling with. I thought to myself Okay. I'm going to have to teach these goofs how to fight, but I was already proud of them for not taking any poo poo. Skillet joined in and went after Nazi number 3. I turned my focus back to Crack Hitler. Dookie was doing okay at first but the Nazi was bigger and quickly got him to the ground and started wailing on him. I launched myself at Bad Haircut Hitler and knocked him off of Dookie. We stood up and squared off. I could tell right away that he thought he was skilled. The motherfucker actually took the time to reach into his pocket and pull out a mouth guard. His teeth already covered in blood, he smiled at me as he inserted it. Then...then the shithead had the audacity to tap his groin to show that he was wearing a protective cup. That pissed me off even more. I would happily teach him that he was outclassed. I let him hit me in my face. I pushed my head forward and pointed to my chin and said "again" and he threw another punch. Well, this guy is an idiot, I thought. Thanks for doing what I literally told you to do! Since I had so easily seen it coming, I slipped my head to the side and smashed him right in his nose, grabbed his head and pulled it down, and landed a few knees to his chest and head area. I pushed him back and launched a couple of kicks into his liver. There's no guard or cup there, motherfucker! The Bonesnapper guys ran past us and onto the stage and launched into their version of https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyc62g7YQM0 gently caress yeah! A soundtrack for the battle! That got the rest of the audience riled up and they started going after the other Nazis. Skillet appeared out of nowhere and landed a solid blow on Crack Hitler's jaw, knocking him out cold. I was feeling extra saucy and pissed off so I reached down and broke two of the skinhead's fingers as he laid there unconscious. I said something like "Here's a little something to remember me by" though he couldn't hear me. His cronies were getting tossed around like rag dolls by our allies. They eventually got free and ran over to their leader and dragged him from the backyard to their car on the street. Skillet and I yelled at them to never come back and to tell any of their friends to remember the loving name Battle Cat. After they left we all hugged each other and made sure everyone was ok. There were a few bloody noses but no one was injured badly. Battle Cat and Bonesnapper took to the stage and jammed together for about an hour, then we all helped clean up and went back to our motel. One show down: Check. A trio of Nazis beat down: Check. Our time in Richmond was off to a good start!
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Sep 12, 2020 22:51
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Feel-good story of the year.
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Sep 12, 2020 23:27
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This is so goddamn awesome. Thank you OP!
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Sep 13, 2020 02:07
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I think this year is going to be spent reading isaboo's awesome loving stories.
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Sep 13, 2020 02:36
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Holy poo poo, dude. If a modern Valhalla were to exist, I'm pretty sure kicking Nazi rear end while a live band rocks out for you and your friends in the background is as close as it gets. Please, don't stop 
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Sep 13, 2020 03:45
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This is a fun read. 
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Sep 15, 2020 11:15
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Part 2 Chapter 4 Mama Said Knock You Out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vimZj8HW0Kg We felt really good about our performance and Poodle and JD were riding high from their Nazi rear end kicking adventure. We played a couple more house shows, one at Breezy's and one at Nard's, and were happy to not have any fascist drama at either of them. The time had come to play a real show somewhere legit so Leyna I went around to local venues to find a good fit for us. The brothers worked on new music and Breezy was again kind enough to let them practice at her place. All was going well, but we needed money. We had received some in donations from the house shows, but those funds were quickly evaporating. I finally found a place that was willing to let us play on a weekday night with a couple of other struggling bands. The problem was that the show date was 2 weeks away and we would need cash before then. One afternoon, after JD and Poodle returned from posting flyers, JD announced he had an idea. "Hey Chief! I found something that might help us" he said as he handed me a poster that he found. It was an ad for a ToughMan contest at a local bar. A ToughMan event is basically an amateur boxing match for fat rednecks, at least they were back home in Georgia. "You and Skillet could totally enter and win", he said. Skillet quickly interjected and shot down any suggestion of him getting into the ring. He was a good fighter, and had boxed in the Army, but he said he just wasn't interested. I said "Dude, I have professional boxing and professional muay Thai experience. They aren't going to let me participate." "How would they ever know?" replied Poodle. He had a good point and we needed the money so I decided to give it some thought. A couple of days later I agreed to enter. I went to the bar that was hosting the fights and talked to the manager. He said that the bouts would technically be "toughman-style" fights and were basically illegal as they were not going to be sanctioned by the state boxing commission. Still, the event would follow most of the usual ToughMan rules - 16 oz gloves, with three two minute rounds and 60 seconds rest between rounds. I was really surprised when he said no headgear would be required "because people like to see faces getting smashed". There would be no doctor performing any sort of physical for any of the contestants. Ah. In other words, this will be a shitshow, I thought to myself. When asked what the purse would be, he said the winner of each weight class usually made around $500. That would get us what we needed. I told the manager "I'm in!" and he said I'd have to come back the following day to do a basic boxing skills assessment with the referee. He was excited to have a big rear end Indian in the heavyweight class and asked if I wanted to do anything special with my walkout music and such. I told him that I would come up with something good. I went back the next day to demonstrate my skills. I made sure I looked good but not too good as I worked the heavy bag and got in the ring to spar with the referee a little. He said something like "you need a little bit of work but ok, you can fight". Heh, ok buddy. Thanks. Dale, the manager, asked how I wanted to be introduced. "Call me...The Trailer Wailer". He had a confused look on his face but I told him not to worry and that it would make sense later. When he asked about music I said that I would provide my own. The night of the bout arrived and the Battle Cat crew was excited for the fight; they had never seen me in the ring before except on video tape. I told them not to get too hyped up because it was a dumb contest for dumb idiots and not indicative of real ring fighting. Leyna even asked if she could be a ring girl, but I told her that was probably not a good idea. Skillet was going to be my corner man. Skillet and I went into the back room with the other fighters to get ready. I immediately locked eyes with the guy who I assumed was my opponent. He was in the process of having his hands wrapped, and as I walked by he glared at me and flexed his fingers to reveal the word "Real" tattooed across the fingers of his right hand, and "Hate" tattooed on his left. He glared and smiled at me. Well. This guy seems like a real winner, I thought. I handed my audio tape and intro card to the referee. As he read it he just rolled his eyes and said "Are you serious?" but agreed to do what I asked. The first fight was between two women and it was a blast to watch. Amateur women boxers are often the most vicious, unrelenting, and brutal combatants. Every one I have ever seen fight looked like they had a lifetime of pent up rage and were eager to unleash it. Two other fights followed, and then it was my turn. My opponent and I stood side by side in the doorway leading out to where the ring was located. We didn't have our mouthpieces in yet and he turned to me and said "Hey, Red. I'm gonna take your land." Oh gently caress he did not just say that poo poo. I remained quiet and didn't move a muscle, but inside I was ready to explode like a hypernova. You do not say that poo poo to a native person. Skillet was behind me and I heard him mutter "hahaha that was the wrong loving thing to say my man" The announcer started his introductions. "Ladies and gentlemen! This is the moment you have all been waiting for. The heavyweight bout!" Looking at the intro card I gave him, he called me out first. "Our first fighter is from the.... Shady Dale Mobile Home Park in deep south Georgia.... here he is... THE TRAILER WAILER!!!!" I walked out of the back room and headed toward the stage. The crowd had been cheering, but when my intro music started and they saw my outfit, they instantly became silent.  There I stood, with ratty looking cutoff blue jean shorts and a wife-beater style tank top. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2nXGPZaTKik The audience didn't know what else to do so they started booing at me and my opponent was riling them up by doing a slicing motion across his throat. They started chanting his nickname- "Bobby Big Dick". Ok, this is getting to be pathetic, I thought. The bell rang and we touched gloves. He took a wild swing right for my jaw and I just ducked under it. He threw the punch so hard that it turned him almost 180 degrees so I just reached out and pushed him into the ropes because I thought it was loving funny. It was clear to me that this bozo won his fights by just having one punch knockout power. The problem was that he sucked at everything else. We squared off again and he feigned a couple of jabs then threw a cross. I slipped them all and again gave him a little shove away. I wanted to play with my meal a little bit before I ate it. The crowd started yelling "you suck! hit him!!!" so I danced around the ring a little just to spite them. That really pissed Bobby off so he charged forward and tied up with me in the clinch. I whispered to him "I'm gonna knock your big dick into the dirt, Bobby" and broke away from the clinch and landed a quick jab. That got his attention. For the rest of the first round, I just treated it as a light sparring match. I took a few hits and faked their impact, wincing and acting like I was out of breath. I landed a few body shots, and I could tell he was already getting tired and winded. The bell rang to end the first round and I went to Skillet in my corner. Laughing, he said "Come on man. I know what you're doing. Stop teasing him you psycho! Just knock him the gently caress out so we can get the money and go." I said something like "I don't want to knock him out, I want him to remember this for a while." Round two started and once again he started swinging wildly. I counter punched, got in close, and started working on his body. By the look of him I figured his liver was probably already enlarged and halfway to cirrhosis so I decided that would be my target. If you've never been punched in the liver by someone who knows what they're doing, let me tell you: it really, really sucks. I landed a couple more good shots to his body and he again tied up with me. This time I said "now what was that about my land?" and broke away from him, again landing a really hard liver shot that sent him straight to the mat. The bell rang to end round two. He didn't get out of his corner for round three. The bout over, Skillet and I went to the back room to take off my gloves and collect our winnings. Dale the manager looked really surprised and asked if I'd like to come back for the next ToughMan night. I said I'd think about it, I took my prize money, and the gang and I went outside to the parking lot. Once again, a crew of loving assholes was gathered around Brown Betty. It seemed that this night of fighting might not yet be over. isaboo fucked around with this message at 05:13 on Sep 18, 2020 |
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Sep 18, 2020 05:10
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Seriously. This poo poo is loving good. I miss when GBS was full of this stuff.
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Sep 18, 2020 06:01
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Sep 18, 2020 06:33
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I am proud of you sardine thread brother. you are an inspiration to us all
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Sep 18, 2020 10:08
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mom and dad fight a lot posted:Seriously. This poo poo is loving good. I miss when GBS was full of this stuff.
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Sep 18, 2020 10:23
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It's been a long time since I've enjoyed a thread this much. Can't wait for the next part.
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Sep 18, 2020 22:14
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Part 2 Chapter 5 Virginia Moon https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plXjq-80zb0 I was really relieved to see that the people near Brown Betty were not enemies, but friends. It was Nard and a couple of punks that I recognized from our shows. "Hey Beets! We heard about the ToughMan thing! How did it go?" I told them what happened and they got a good laugh out of it. Nard said that a pop-up show was being played at a local abandoned warehouse that night, and rumor had it that a couple members of Agnostic Front were going to play later. He then added that he and the punks left the show because some Nazis showed up, including some of Crack Hitler's squad. He asked if we'd be down to go check it out. We all said "Hell yeah!" because we all wanted to see Agnostic Front. I really wanted to avoid the skinheads, but at a show like that it would be impossible. There's no doubt they would remember who we were, so I was hopeful they would avoid us. We all headed to the warehouse and when we walked in, we turned a lot of heads and I saw people pointing and whispering. It seemed that our reputation had begun to precede us, not for our musicianship, but for our skinhead rear end-kicking. The Nazis were in fact there, but left when they saw us. The brothers all ran into the pit, which was going pretty well at this point. Bonesnapper was playing, and Breezy's band Thermometer Leg was going to do a rare set away from her house. Leyna and I just wandered around the arena checking out posters and demo tapes. Vinnie and Roger, the Agnostic Front guys, got on stage and jammed with our Bonesnapper pals for a bit before the night wrapped up. Nard came over and pointed to a couple of people on the other side of the room. "Wanna meet Oderus and Slymenstra?" he asked. "loving HELL YES I WANT TO MEET ODERUS AND SLYMENSTRA" I said excitedly. I was a huge fan of GWAR and had been to a few shows but never had the chance to meet them. Leyna was also a fan but mostly because of their art, special effects, and comics. Nard introduced us and told them of our recent exploits with the skinheads and also about the ToughMan contest. They thought it was all pretty cool and we talked for quite a while about the Richmond scene and the hardcore scene in general. I managed to convince Dave (Oderus) to listen to a demo tape of Harbinger Of Death and Anarchist's Apotheosis. He was honest; he said the music arrangement was alright but the lyrics were terrible. I couldn't disagree. He gave me some signed GWAR merchandise and told me that we'd probably have better luck in Washington DC. I said that was our intended destination after Richmond and he was kind enough to give me the names of a couple of venue managers in DC. Leyna and Danyelle (Slymenstra Hymen) talked for a long time about art and costumes and Danyelle told her about some people in DC that might be able to help us with some stuff. All in all, it was way more of a productive, almost business like meeting with them. Vinnie and Roger joined Dave and Danyelle and the rest of us. It was a beautiful night so we all just sat outside and talked about anything and everything. I watched the sun rise with members of GWAR and Agnostic Front. I'll never forget that. We played maybe 2 or 3 more shows in Richmond, including one at an actual music venue, but it was nothing special. I think less than 10 people saw our set and weren't impressed, but they did ask us if we were the same Battle Cat that had tangled with the skinheads. At this point we had been in Richmond for a little over a month, and we felt our time there had run its course. We discussed our next steps and decided we'd head north to DC, where the events that would really get to the heart of this whole punching Nazis story would be set in motion.
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Sep 20, 2020 05:26
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You mean there's more Nazi-punching coming up?
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Sep 20, 2020 05:49
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Bargearse posted:You mean there's more Nazi-punching coming up? Oh yeah for sure. More Nazis will definitely be punched. Battle Cat punched a lot of Nazis.
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Sep 20, 2020 06:19
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You definitely were finished with Richmond once you encountered the secret end boss, "members of GWAR casually out of costume."
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Sep 20, 2020 18:52
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You're a really good storyteller. I usually don't bother reading these things because they're so long but drat dude. Punching Nazis is always a good subject. And I read a little bit about the punk/skinhead scene in the 80s and early 90s so this is cool.
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Sep 20, 2020 22:05
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Mashed 5 on this good thread
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Sep 20, 2020 22:45
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isaboo posted:One afternoon, after JD and Poodle returned from posting flyers, JD announced he had an idea. I love this, it's like "let's put on a musical to save the orphanage" but way more fun
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Sep 20, 2020 22:51
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Snowy posted:I love this, it's like "let's put on a musical to save the orphanage" but way more fun Are you saying isaboo needs to get the band back together??!
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Sep 21, 2020 14:43
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Tarquinn posted:Are you saying isaboo needs to get the band back together??! To which I would have to say "I'm too old for this poo poo" 
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Sep 24, 2020 02:15
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Part 3 Chapter 1 Welcome to DC https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yU6J0xCi69Y When we got to DC we were once again low on funds. We used most of what we had left to buy a tent big enough for 3 of us because we thought it might be a while before we could afford some decent lodging. Not wanting to do anything as ridiculous as me fighting again, we all decided to pitch in and work for a while before we started playing anywhere. Leyna and I did some busking, and the brothers looked for odd jobs. Leyna and I also checked into the leads that Oderus had given us, but they didn't pan out to anything. Leyna could talk to anyone about anything so she quickly made some acquaintances that filled us in on the scene. House shows were less of a thing in DC but there were a few every now and then. After a few weeks of just taking things slow and working, we decided to attend some shows and see for ourselves what the scene was like. We caught a couple of shows at the legendary 9:30 Club and a few other venues. I remember seeing a really good Bad Brains show, and we also got to see Ian MacKaye of Minor Threat/Fugazi fame. I was surprised to learn from our new pals that word of some "anti-Nazi rear end kickers" had made it from Richmond to DC. It was funny that no one knew the name Battle Cat, so at first no one believed us when we said those rear end kickers were us. A couple guys, Ollie and Spence, invited us to come jam with them at a little studio and we eagerly accepted. It had been almost a month since we had any sort of practice time. Ollie and Spence were very cool guys. Both of them were primarily session musicians and knew and worked with a lot of people in the area. Ollie was a really impressive guitar player, and Spence had a voice and presence about him that just perfectly captured harDCore (as it is referred to in DC). We quickly became good friends and spent a lot of time rehearsing together. One night they asked us to meet them at one of the house shows a decent way outside of DC proper. They said that a new band, Headway, had been attracting attention among the harDCore crowd. A couple of bands played short sets before Headway took the stage. Headway was easily one of the most energetic bands I've ever seen and the audience followed suit. Everyone was having a good time until some rear end in a top hat started yelling "RAHOWA" (a rallying cry for a "racial holy war" among racist Nazi shitbags) while trying to start poo poo in the pit. This dickhead looked the part, too. In fact, he had RAHOWA tattooed across his back. JD was the first of us to get involved. His turn from a skinny, timid guy into a skinny pit warrior was pleasing to see. JD ran into the middle of the action and started circling the pit while facing Mr RAHOWA. JD started yelling and flipping him off trying to get the guy to come after him. It worked. RAHOWA made a beeline for JD, punching and kicking the air as he approached. Poodle was yelling at JD to stop being a dumbass but no one could hear anything above the music and JD wouldn't have paid attention anyway. Poodle and Skillet looked at me with a "well, aren't you going to do anything" look, which I just ignored. I didn't want to get involved unless absolutely necessary. It was time for JD to sink or swim on his own. The two of them collided in the center of the pit. JD started swinging first but the Nazi landed the first punch and knocked JD down. He popped right back up and ran into another punch, but this time JD just stood there and laughed at the guy. Blood coming from his mouth, JD yelled something then went on the offensive and kicked the turd right in his Nazi balls. RAHOWA doubled over and grabbed his crotch, screaming in pain as he fell to the ground. JD kicked dirt in his face and then ran around the skinhead a few times, hi arms raised overhead in victory. Well, that's one way to fight, I thought. Maybe this piece of poo poo won't be able to reproduce. The crowd cheered and several people ran over to JD to pat him on his back. Headway finished their set, and JD got on stage and walked up to the microphone. Mr RAHOWA scurried away. Pointing to his brothers, JD said "I AM JOHNNY DANGEROUS AND WE ARE BATTLE CAT!" Johnny Dangerous?! Oh boy. Recognizing this as a special moment, Skillet and Poodle and I ran to the van and got our guitar and bass and joined JD on stage. We played a couple of songs then helped clean up and tear down all of the equipment. The guys from Headway came over to talk to us. "That was loving rad as hell" said Troy, the singer. "What's your name again?" "WE'RE loving BATTLE CAT!!" JD exclaimed. He was clearly riding high on downing yet another Nazi. We talked about our journey so far and that impressed Troy. He called Ollie and Spence over. "Ollie, you need to introduce these guys to our old friend. He will love them." Ollie said "Holy poo poo, you're right. It's a match made in heaven isn't it?" Spence was laughing, I guess because he understood the implication of whatever they were talking about. Skillet asked "Who's your old friend?" "BeanPot. Everyone calls him BeanPot." Just by the name alone, I could not loving wait to meet this BeanPot character.
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Sep 24, 2020 02:16
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Can't wait to see this screenplay realized as Green Room 2 on Netflix Best of luck
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Sep 24, 2020 03:01
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haha. Green Room is a good film but thankfully we never encountered anything that extreme
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Sep 24, 2020 03:10
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This is the best thread in a decade.
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Sep 24, 2020 03:51
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Someone needs to invent time travel and cloning technology so we can have an army of beets antifa super soldiers for our current hell world
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Sep 24, 2020 19:49
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Part 3 Chapter 2 The Greatest Man In The World https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qGMf7AEiI4 A couple of days later, Ollie gave us an address and told us to meet him there. All we knew was that we'd be meeting an old man that everyone referred to as BeanPot, and that he was involved with the local punk scene and Food Not Bombs. Leyna was vegan so she was particularly interested. What an old man was doing hanging out with punks, I did not know. When we arrived at the address we saw Ollie sitting on the front porch with an old man that we assumed was BeanPot. He was really jovial looking, sporting a huge smile and a head of white hair and a goatee to match. He was thin but relatively healthy looking. Ollie waved excitedly at us as we exited Brown Betty and walked through the front gate. "Hey! Come meet BeanPot! I've been telling him about all of you." I was the first one to shake BeanPot's hand. His grip was like an iron vise and his eye contact was deep and intense. I could already tell this guy was a badass, but I wasn't yet quite sure in what way. The first thing he said to me was "What'd ya bring me to eat?" Laughing, Ollie said "Nevermind him, Beets. He's always talking about food in some way." The rest of our gang shook hands with him and he invited us inside to sit down and have some tea. When he walked inside I saw that he had a noticeable limp. As we entered, he encouraged us to take a look around and make ourselves comfortable. We were all struck by how the place was decorated. Everywhere we looked, there was World War 2 memorabilia. On one wall was a photo of a young man, a kid really, in an Army uniform, and that man was a much younger BeanPot. Then I noticed a flag that was crumpled up in a dark corner. I took a closer look and saw that it was a Nazi flag. That corner also had a display case and in it were other Nazi items- coins, medals, a bayonet, and nametags of German soldiers. Instead of asking about it, I just decided to wait and let him tell us about all this stuff in his own time, if he chose to do so. We were also surprised to see punk and HarDCore posters and albums scattered about the room. It wasn't the kind of music a typical seventy-odd year old man would listen to. On one of the walls was a huge, ornate Food Not Bombs tapestry. Leyna studied it intently. She asked "How long have you been with FnB?" Before he could answer, a pair of young punk kids came running down the stairs from the second floor. They were laughing and when they saw these strange new people in the house they stopped, said "Hi", then continued running out of the front door. BeanPot said "That was Marty and Pete. They live upstairs." He went on to say that they were street kids and had been living there for a few months. Two other punks also stayed there from time to time. Ollie said "This house is safe harbor. A lot of kids in trouble have come here for help. BeanPot will take in anybody that needs assistance... well, almost anyone." "Yeah. No loving Nazis allowed. Goddamn Nazi scum." said BeanPot. He then added "So y'all are Battle Cat, huh? The Nazi punchers? Ollie has told me a little." Skillet told him about our escapades so far, and that we were hoping to find some success in the DC scene. "Well, maybe I can help with that" said the old veteran. "Go take a look out back." Skillet and JD went outside to check out whatever he was referring to. Poodle said "So you're a WW2 veteran? And why does everyone call you BeanPot?" Ollie laughed and went to make us some more tea. "Well my real name is John, but these days I'm just a gassy old man, like a pot of beans. I eat a lot of beans." I certainly wasn't expecting that, but ok! I thought. He continued on... "Yes, I'm a veteran. I was at Ardennes, among other places." Being young-ish adults with priorities other than history, we didn't know a lot about WW2 but we did know that Ardennes, The Battle Of The Bulge, was intense to say the least. Skillet and JD returned and were really excited about whatever they found in the backyard. "Beets!! Come see this!" I went outside with Skillet. It was a beautiful backyard, with a large gazebo covered in ivy and roses surrounded by bird feeders and a couple of bird baths. In the back corner of the fenced in yard was a covered stage with several wooden benches positioned in front of it. On the stage was a fancy drum kit. I could see Skillet's eyes light up as he sat down and banged on it. On the privacy fence near the stage were dozens of old punk flyers and posters. I still couldn't imagine an old guy like BeanPot being into that kind of music, but whatever went on here was pretty badass. After a couple of minutes BeanPot and the others came outside. The brothers all got on stage and acted like they were performing. BeanPot smiled and said something like "This is what I like to see." Leyna asked "What is all this?" BeanPot went to one of the benches and when he sat down his pants leg rose a little bit to reveal a prosthetic leg. Then he told us the story of his wife, Linda. Linda was BeanPot's teenage sweetheart. They were both from a small town in Kentucky and had known each other all their lives. Linda was a musician, and had dreams of playing the violin in a big city orchestra. She loved music and often tutored younger kids. They got married when they were both 19, just before BeanPot was drafted. Her last words to him before he shipped off were "You're a good man, John. Now go be the greatest you can be." He recounted how they wrote letters to each other, some of which he still had, and how they never stopped talking about her dreams to play music. He made it through The War, but not unscathed. He lost his leg to frostbite and suffered some wounds that would prevent them from ever having children. When he returned home they decided to move to DC, and he built the house that he still lived in. He also built the gazebo and stage for her. After 40 years of marriage, she succumbed to cancer without ever having fulfilled her dreams of playing in a major orchestra. Again, her last words implored him to be great and to help those in need. His eyes were filled with tears as he told us this, but they were tears of happiness and fond memories. He told us how he became an ally and protector of young troubled kids over the years. Some of them were aspiring musicians, so he thought letting them use Linda's stage as a safe practice space would honor her memory well. Even though it usually wasn't his kind of music, the kids were passionate about it and that made him happy. In a world of injustice, he felt it was his duty to give the less fortunate food and shelter and whatever else he could offer. It seemed to affect him very deeply. He then said something that I still remember all these years later. "Sometimes, I think the world has gone completely mad. And then I think, 'Aw, who cares? What's for supper?'" In spite of everything that he had been through, he still had a happy go lucky attitude. He would often say "What's for supper?" whenever he was frustrated or upset or even just joking around. It was his way of recognizing the absurdity of life and changing the subject to something enjoyable- food. He was a good cook and when he learned of the Food Not Bombs organization he eagerly got involved. It did take him a while to adjust to their vegan and vegetarian methods, but he adapted well and became known as one of the better cooks. He and Leyna talked about their favorite recipes while Poodle and JD grabbed their instruments from the van and played on the stage for a while. After a couple of songs BeanPot offered us the use of the stage anytime we wanted. He even said we could stay there if we needed to. We thanked BeanPot for his hospitality and for sharing a bit of his story with us. We were all pretty silent on the way back to our campground, just letting everything he told us sink in. We started rehearsing at his house a few days a week, and we used a little of our money to buy some food (mostly beans) to donate to him and to Food Not Bombs. We all adored him from the start, and we were excited to have such an interesting new friend. After a few weeks of practicing and saving money, it was time to play a live show. BeanPot said he knew of somewhere we could probably play a short set. But, he said, it was a place that was sometimes dangerous. "Dangerous is my name", said JD. We were not easily intimidated at this point, and Battle Cat now had a powerful ally. We were ready for whatever would come next.
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Sep 24, 2020 23:19
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Part 3 Chapter 3 Lashings Of The Ultraviolent https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNriapfTJIo BeanPot told us about the club he had in mind. It was small and often had local hip-hop artists performing but was known more for its harDCore shows. The local SHARP kids (Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice) were usually the main audience members but Nazi skinheads were known to cause trouble there depending on what band was performing. One of BeanPot's Food Not Bombs friends, Paul, was the manager so he was pretty confident we could book a show there. I reached out to Paul and after giving him a demo tape he agreed to let us perform. We were especially excited to play because we'd go on right before Headway. Their audience had been steadily growing so we would hopefully get some good exposure. Poodle had a new song he wanted us to try, Unjust, and I have to admit I thought it was a pretty good tune. It was certainly one of the better ones that he penned. We got in a couple of practice sets on BeanPot's stage and by the night of the show we were feeling really good. Leyna and I got our little merchandise table set up while the guys dicked around backstage. As we were milling about the club, I took notice of this rather large guy that kept looking at me and saw a couple of Nazi-ish looking tats on his arms. I just ignored him and went about my business. The opening band played and we went on next. Everyone sounded great, and Unjust seemed to really get the crowd going. Battle Cat started their last song, and that was when trouble walked in. Mr RAHOWA and a few of his racist friends entered the club. RAHOWA looked around and when he saw JD on stage, it was clear he found who he was looking for. I had to wonder how his testicles were feeling. gently caress. This is probably not going to be a fun night, I thought. Battle Cat finished the set and we all hung out backstage for a while. I told them that RAHOWA was there and JD said something like "Oh, he wants more huh?". I told JD to not press his luck and to just stay away from the guy. "Johnny Dangerous does not cower in fear", or something like that was his response. Dammit. He's gonna get his rear end kicked. Leyna was at our table and I saw one of RAHOWA's skinhead pals and a skinbyrd (female skinhead) were talking to her. I did not like that. Leyna was visibly nervous and the skinbyrd was pointing at Leyna's face and talking excitedly. Leyna saw me on the other side of the room and shot me a look that said "GET THE gently caress OVER HERE RIGHT NOW". As I started walking over, the skinbyrd and her friend flipped the table over, scattering all of our demo tapes and Leyna's artwork onto the floor. I ran over and grabbed each of their necks from behind and tossed them aside. The big guy that I had noticed watching me earlier started making his way over to us. JD and Skillet saw what was happening and moved toward the action as well. The skinbyrd ran toward Leyna and slapped her in the face. The last thing I remember before feeling something smash into the back of my head was You do not gently caress with Leyna, rear end in a top hat. I turned around and the instant I did a fist hit me right on the button and everything went black. When I came to, I felt like I had been in a car wreck. My head was pounding and my ribs felt like they had been kicked repeatedly, and my mouth was bleeding. I saw a hand reach down and on it was a tattoo: 1488. At least I thought that's what it was, as I was still having trouble seeing. All I knew was that a big Nazi hand reached for me and grabbed my forearm. Another hand took my other wrist and then I realized that I was being dragged across the floor. I could see Skillet and Poodle frantically moving around but I couldn't tell what was going on. My ears were ringing but I thought I heard Leyna's voice screaming. Everything went dark again. I don't know exactly how long I was out, but when I came to I was on a stretcher being looked over by a paramedic. Leyna and the three brothers were standing nearby and I heard Leyna say something like "Yes, we'll meet him at the ER." I kept asking what the hell happened and the EMT said something about a fight. I got checked out at the emergency room and sure enough, I was diagnosed with a concussion. One of my teeth was chipped, my left eye was blackened and swollen, my lip was split open, and I had several stitches on the back of my head. My ribs were aching but it didn't feel like any of them were broken and an x-ray later confirmed that. The Nazis had kicked and stomped on me over and over while I was unconscious. loving cowards. After a few hours I was feeling well enough to talk and understand what was going on, so Skillet told me what happened. Apparently the RAHOWA crew came looking for JD. They found Leyna first and harassed her to tell them where JD and the rest of us were. Leyna told them something like "gently caress off Nazis" and spit in the skinbyrd's face. That was when they flipped over the table just before I intervened. RAHOWA smashed me in the back of my head with something, no one knew exactly what, then sucker punched me. That kicked off a pretty violent brawl that emptied out the club. I asked what happened to the Nazis and Poodle said that a few SHARPs got into the mix, and that Captain Crotch got the better of RAHOWA and then dragged me out of the fray. "Captain WHO?!" I said. "Captain Crotch. Hang on, he's right outside" replied Poodle. Sticking his head out of the door he spoke to someone and said "You can come in now." It was the guy that had been watching me. He reached out his hand and I definitely saw the 1488 tattoo. I tensed up, not really understanding what was going on, but I also knew that my friends wouldn't put me in a bad position. I shook his hand and he said "The name's Dave, but call me Captain Crotch." "Uh, hi. Uh, nice to meet you, Captain." Captain Crotch was a reformed Nazi skinhead. He was about 10 years older than any of us, so that put him at around 35. In addition to the 1488 tattoo on his hand, he had other Nazi tats all over. He saw me notice a big solid black square tattoo on his neck and he said "That used to be a swastika." He then went on tell us that he left the fascist skinhead lifestyle a few years prior, and was now a rapper and spoken word artist and his material often had bad things to say about his former associates. He was also one of BeanPot's success stories. I was eventually released from the hospital early the next morning, and Captain Crotch had made arrangements for us to stay at BeanPot's house so I could recover comfortably. When we arrived, BeanPot was happy to see I was ok but was absolutely livid after hearing what went down. "loving Nazis. We won't stand for this", BeanPot said.
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Sep 27, 2020 21:20
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Part 3 Chapter 4 When We Ride https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6j4oXUTkn7s "So who are they? Where do they live? Where do they hang out?" BeanPot asked. No one knew for sure, but Captain Crotch said he thought they might be from Baltimore. BeanPot added "Nazis deserve no quarter. None." He called a couple of people and the following day a couple of the SHARPs kids and a few Food Not Bombs people showed up. "Do any of you know this RAHOWA rear end in a top hat?" BeanPot asked. "You're gonna need to be more specific", someone replied. After talking for a while we were pretty sure that they were in fact from Baltimore. "Road trip!" exclaimed Poodle. He and JD were raring to go after the skinheads. One of the FnB members was familiar with the Baltimore scene and said she would contact some friends there and try to find out more. I started feeling better after a few more days of just taking it easy. Battle Cat played two shows during my recovery, both of which I missed. We didn't know it at the time, but those would be the last real shows that Battle Cat would ever play. Soon thereafter we had solid information on where Mr RAHOWA was in Baltimore, as well as his real name- Andrew. We planned to head up there for the coming weekend and check things out. In the meantime, we helped the Food Not Bombs group gather up a large donation from the nearby neighborhoods. A lot of it was canned food, and a lot of the cans were dented enough to make us feel unsafe in opening them. Leyna tossed the damaged cans into a box in Brown Betty, intending to throw them away later. Leyna and the rest of the FnB people cooked up a huge dinner and BeanPot graciously hosted the feast in his backyard. About 30 needy people showed up, and after we all ate Battle Cat played a few cover songs. Before we left BeanPot gave us a care package of some beer and some of the leftover food. He also handed something to JD and whispered something in his ear. Johnny slipped whatever it was into his pocket and just smiled. The weekend came and the 5 of us made the hour drive to Baltimore. We had information that RAHOWA hung out at one particular bar almost every night so that's where we would start our search. We got a motel room, rested up until nighttime, then he streets in search of Nazis. Johnny Dangerous donned his Mick Jagger wig, thinking it would be enough of a disguise that he'd be able to enter the bar and scout it out without being noticed right away. He went in, looked around for a few minutes then came running back to Brown Betty. "Yeah they're all in there" he said. Skillet started to get out of the van; he was ready to kick some rear end. Leyna stopped him. "Let's do this on our terms... let's get them alone" she said. We waited in the van for about an hour or so. By this time it was around two in the morning and things were winding down at the bar. Soon we saw RAHOWA leave with a couple of people and we carefully followed them, staying a few car lengths behind them. After about 10 minutes of driving, they stopped at a duplex and went inside. We really didn't know what we were going to do but we certainly weren't going to just run in after them. A couple of minutes later one of them came outside to smoke. We saw that as an opportunity. JD got out of the van and started walking toward him. We were all shocked when JD yelled something like "WHITE POWER" and did the Nazi salute. Oh. My. God. What. In. The. gently caress. The Nazi did a half hearted, lazy salute in return. JD stood far enough away in the shadows to make sure he wouldn't be recognized right away. He started talking to the skinhead and the Nazi seemed invested in whatever they were talking about, nodding his head in approval. The balls on JD were growing bigger every day. He returned to the van. "So....I told him that I was looking for RAHOWA - Andrew - and that I had some information he might be interested in, and also that I wanted to join up with them." "And... then what? What now?" asked Skillet. "That's for y'all to decide", said Johnny. We didn't have time to come up with anything like a solid plan. I had no idea what was going to happen next. This was starting to feel like a bad idea. We all sat there for a few moments trying to come up with something. Looking around the van, all we had was an old mic stand and the box of canned food. Leyna spoke up. "We have all these dented cans..." That gave Skillet an idea. He quickly reached into the box, grabbed a bunch of the cans and handed a couple to everyone. Then he took off his socks and put a can of beans into each one. "Everyone make one of these", he said. I knew what was coming next. "Quick, before they come out, everyone take these cans." Pointing to me he said "You're with Poodle. Get over behind that car in the driveway. Leyna, stay in the van and be ready to get us out of here." Skillet was setting up an ambush. With improvised weapons. The best part was that it was a tactic from the skinhead playbook- they would wrap a billiard ball in tape to prevent it from cracking, then put it in a sock- a weapon they called a Homey Sock. We all took our hidden positions except for JD. He stood in the driveway, waiting for someone to come outside. The door finally opened, and Andrew stepped out with a skinhead right behind him. "Who the gently caress are you?" I heard him say. JD responded by saying he had information on some drugs, and that he wanted to talk to Andrew about linking up. "Wait a minute, you look famili-" Skillet yelled "NOW!" and launched one of the cans right at Andrew, hitting him square in the back. "WHAT THE gently caress!!!!" Andrew yelled. Poodle and I threw our cans at the other skinhead. One of them missed, the other hit him in the chest. Skillet charged at the disoriented Andrew while swinging his can-of-beans-filled-sock around his head. The last rotation was perfectly timed and slammed into RAHOWA's Nazi jaw. I tackled the other skinhead and started punching him in his face. JD and Poodle joined Skillet and went after Andrew; Poodle was swinging his sock weapon wildly and landed a couple of good shots. The front door of the duplex was still open and another skinhead emerged, armed with a baseball bat. I saw him coming and peeled off the guy I was hitting and headed straight for him. He swung his bat at my head and I ducked under it, landing a good shot to his gut. He went down to one knee and took another swing at my legs. I shin checked the bat and when it cracked I saw a terrified look on the skinhead's face. I was pretty sure he hadn't encountered shins as conditioned as mine. I kicked him right in his face, knocking him out. I picked up the broken bat and ran over to Skillet and RAHOWA. Before I could do anything at all Skillet grabbed the Nazi around the waist, lifted him over his head, and slammed him onto the driveway. JD and Poodle joined in on the fun and kicked that Nazi gently caress while he was down, just as he had done to me. Yet another skinhead came out of the duplex, and this one had a gun. I don't know who spotted it first, but someone yelled "Gun!!! GET TO THE VAN!" Leyna already had Brown Betty running and the doors were open. We all jumped in and sped off while the gun toting Nazi was still trying to piece together what was happening. Leyna popped a tape into the cassette player and we drove back to the motel, jamming to one of our favorite songs. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPfkK7bcyfE "That was some good poo poo. REAL good poo poo!" said Skillet as we raced away. We stayed up for the rest of the night, drinking beer and smoking weed in celebration of a successful operation. We goofed around the next day and decided we'd try to catch a show that night to see what bands Baltimore had to offer. We assumed that what we had done would draw attention, but we didn't know just how big the hornet's nest we just poked really was. isaboo fucked around with this message at 21:37 on Sep 28, 2020 |
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Sep 28, 2020 02:25
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And 26 years later, those Nazis got revenge by being elected to federal office
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Sep 28, 2020 02:50
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I'm imagining an ant that was greater than 49' tall...
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Sep 28, 2020 03:53
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isaboo posted:We got a motel room, rested up until nighttime, then hit the streets in search of Nazis. I don't know why, but I feel like this phrase is going to stick with me for all time.
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Sep 28, 2020 20:45
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Part 4 Chapter 1 When Vegans Attack https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuM3-Odr3SU Leyna called BeanPot to check in on things back at his place, wondering if anything else had happened there since the spray painting incident and our attack on RAHOWA's crew. He said that nothing had, but that some kids told him that a bunch of people were looking for Brown Betty. Asked if he had any connections in Baltimore, he said he knew of a few people in the FnB group that were into punk music. BeanPot reached out to his Baltimore friends and called us back to tell us they were going to see a militant vegan punk band. That sounded interesting so we agreed to meet his friends there. Given what we had just done, we didn't want to roll into unfamiliar territory on our own. When we got to the show it wasn't immediately obvious who BeanPot's friends were. Pretty much everyone there had some kind of pro-vegan "Meat Is Murder" type of shirt on, pro-vegan patches on their clothing, and tattoos. They immediately recognized us though and told us about the people looking for our van. They said that the venue we were at had a few skinheads but they were relatively well behaved and didn't cause too much trouble there. They also said that there was likely a bounty on our heads so we had to be vigilant. The first band played and everything was going well and we were having a good time. The vegan punk band took the stage next and we saw that the skinheads that were there were indeed minding their own business so we loosened up a bit and started drinking a little. Leyna was a lightweight when it came to alcohol and after a couple of mixed drinks she was fairly intoxicated. Poodle was usually an rear end in a top hat when he was drunk, and he was well on his way there. Still, everything seemed pretty calm. Until Poodle decided to have some fun. There were two skinheads sitting at the end of the bar. Poodle walked over and positioned himself a little behind and to the right of one of the Nazis. I saw Poodle look around like he was making sure no one was watching and that made me nervous. He was obviously about to do something stupid. He stood there for about 30 seconds, then ran off. The Nazi suddenly stood up and screamed "WHAT THE gently caress!!!! WHAT THE gently caress WHO DID THIS??? WHO PISSED ON ME???" Oh my god. That loving Poodle. Poodle had pissed in the Nazi's pants. He straight up pulled out his dick and micturated in the skinhead's pocket. Later when I asked about all this and how he did it, he said that the guy's pocket was open just enough for him to stick the tip of his cock in there. The other skinhead looked around and found where Poodle had run to and pointed at him and shouted "THAT'S HIM!!". Both of the skinheads headed right for Poodle. I couldn't find the rest of Battle Cat so I was going to have to intervene alone. The Nazis beat me to Poodle and kicked and punched the poo poo out of him, knocking him to the floor. One of them grabbed a bar stool and started beating him with it. I was several feet away when a rush of bodies swarmed past me and knocked the skinheads away from Poodle. Some of the vegan punks saw what was happening and immediately went on the counter offensive. They didn't know that Poodle had started the whole thing but who is going to turn down a chance to beat on some racist shitheads? Certainly not the Nazi hating vegans. Our new friends quickly got the better of the racists and threw them out of the club. By this time Skillet and JD had joined me. We picked Poodle up and carried him outside. "Where's Leyna? I thought she was with you guys." I said. "We thought she was with you" replied Skillet. "I'll go back inside and look for her." One of the vegan punks ran up to us and said "They're here. They found your van!" Poodle was coherent just enough to say "Leyna's sleeping in the van" then he passed out. The three of us looked at each other and we all had a look of horror on our faces. We had to get to Leyna. isaboo fucked around with this message at 22:55 on Sep 28, 2020 |
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Sep 28, 2020 22:42
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This is such a great thread, isaboo, and a great soundtrack accompaniment. I don't want it to end.
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Sep 29, 2020 01:53
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Thank you! I've told these stories to friends and family dozens of times over the years but I've never written them down before. For me the most fun bits are the pictures and in this case, the songs. I write each chapter and then search through my mp3 collection to find a song title that fits; I don't really care about the lyrics but sometimes those match up too. If I can't find a song in my collection I start googling for songs with a certain word in the title. That might present a problem though. Some friends want me to self publish this stuff via Amazon, but I'm sure I won't be able to include the songs and maybe not even the song titles because of those pesky copyright laws. Maybe I could just add or subtract a word from the titles to make them just different enough. Likewise with the pictures in the other stories I've posted- I don't know if I'd run into problems for using the likenesses of actual people such as Tupac's and Jeanene Garofalo's heads pasted onto drawings. If anyone could tell me that would be great! isaboo fucked around with this message at 02:45 on Sep 29, 2020 |
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Sep 29, 2020 02:28
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isaboo posted:Thank you! I've told these stories to friends and family dozens of times over the years but I've never written them down before. For me the most fun bits are the pictures and in this case, the songs. I write each chapter and then search through my mp3 collection to find a song title that fits; I don't really care about the lyrics but sometimes those match up too. If I can't find a song in my collection I start googling for songs with a certain word in the title. You can absolutely 100% use the song titles. You could even make a Spotify/YouTube etc playlist of them as "suggested listening" for the book.
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Sep 29, 2020 03:27
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isaboo posted:Thank you! I've told these stories to friends and family dozens of times over the years but I've never written them down before. For me the most fun bits are the pictures and in this case, the songs. I write each chapter and then search through my mp3 collection to find a song title that fits; I don't really care about the lyrics but sometimes those match up too. If I can't find a song in my collection I start googling for songs with a certain word in the title. You should absolutely publish this. Also, there is a self-publishing thread over in CC that would be a great place to ask about the logistics.
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Sep 29, 2020 05:04
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This loving rules so hard.
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Sep 29, 2020 07:43
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Part 4 Chapter 2 All For Leyna https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzE1-NlOthY One of the vegans yelled "GET TO YOUR VAN! We'll take care of this guy" and a couple of them picked up Poodle and dragged him along behind us. The van was about a block away so it wasn't too far, but we did have some ground to cover. My heart was pounding as I imagined all sorts of horrible things that could happen to Leyna if we didn't get there in time. I was also angry at myself for not keeping a closer eye on her in the club. I wondered if Leyna had access to her handgun that she used in our first Nazi encounter way back in North Carolina, but I hadn't seen it or heard her mention it since then. Skillet, JD and I rounded the corner and spotted Brown Betty; her doors were wide open and we could hear screaming. Four men were standing near the doors and one of them was Andrew- RAHOWA. Skillet yelled at them to get the gently caress away from the van. They turned to face us, except for Andrew who was reaching into the van trying to grab Leyna. She was kicking at him and trying to scramble away from the Nazi lunatic. The three skinheads started to move toward us. JD and I stopped and got ready to meet them head on while Skillet charged right through them, knocking them out of the way as he targeted Andrew. I moved to the side and clothes-lined one of the attackers as he ran at us, sending him off his feet. As he tried to get up I kicked him right in his face, knocking him back down again. His legs were spread open which presented a target too good to ignore; I kicked and stomped his groin into mush. He puked all over himself and just laid there. Meanwhile, JD was tangling with the two other Nazis. One of them had JD's arms and was holding him in place while the other guy was punching him in the stomach. I tackled him and elbowed him in the face then rolled us over so I had his back, and choked him out. The one that was holding JD lost his grip, and JD reached into his pocket and pulled something out. I couldn't see what exactly what it was, but I could tell it was metallic. Whatever it was, JD swung at the fascist gently caress in front of him and cracked him right in his jaw. It knocked him backward and he charged forward and punched JD in his face. I grabbed the Nazi and held his arms exactly as he had done to JD, while Johnny pummeled the guy in his gut and face. Then I could see what Johnny was wielding- brass knuckles. Holy. gently caress.. JD was going to kill this dude if he continued beating him like he was, so I threw him aside and told JD to get to Skillet and RAHOWA at the van. The beaten down Nazi had enough and crawled away. Skillet was struggling with Andrew in the doors of the van, while Leyna was still trapped inside crying and screaming. As I got closer I could see that her shirt was torn and that made me almost blind with rage. I don't even remember doing this but Skillet later told me that I grabbed Skillet and tossed him aside like a toy so that I could get to Andrew. I grabbed RAHOWA's head and slammed it into the door frame then kneed him in his ribs a few times. Leyna crawled to the front of the van, opened the glove box and retrieved her gun. She exited through passenger door and got behind me. Shaking, she pointed the gun at Andrew. Skillet took the gun from her and moved her away from the action. Our vegan allies arrived with Poodle in tow, and one of them said "Get out of here. The police are coming." I hit RAHOWA several more times before dumping him to the ground. The vegans tossed Poodle into the van, and the rest of Battle Cat piled in. Skillet started Brown Betty and as we drove off we ran over Andrew's leg. I checked Leyna for any injuries and hugged her as she cried. JD and Poodle hugged her as well and told her she was safe now and no one would ever touch her again. I asked JD where the hell he got the brass knuckles. He tossed them to me and said "Take a guess."  JD said that BeanPot gave them to him and whispered "Put these to good use." We hauled rear end to the motel and made sure we parked Brown Betty well out of sight. Skillet sat at the window, peering through the curtain to watch for any sign of our enemies. An hour or so later I heard him quietly say "gently caress" and I knew that was a bad sign.
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Sep 29, 2020 21:39
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Holy poo poo Also, 2 for 2 for destroying someone's leg for with a vehicle? Unless there are more crippled legs you haven't told us about yet???
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Sep 29, 2020 23:30
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