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DeadFatDuckFat posted:Holy poo poo Haha. It didn't do much damage to his leg unlike the other incident. And yes more legs will be attacked in the next chapter!
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Sep 30, 2020 00:09
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this poo poo is loving insane and i love you isaboo
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Sep 30, 2020 00:32
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this thread rules
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Sep 30, 2020 00:38
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At the edge of my seat here, this poo poo is wild
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Sep 30, 2020 01:06
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Thread of all time? TOAT
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Sep 30, 2020 17:43
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Part 4 Chapter 3 Swim Until You Cant See Land https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzjERZU3wbY I peeked through the curtain and saw skinheads milling about in the front parking lot. There were 5 of us and 6 of them. Just by the way they were acting it seemed apparent to me that they knew they were at the right place, but they hadn't found Brown Betty or our room. Thankfully they were too stupid to look behind a pair of dumpsters in the back parking lot where we parked the van. I knew they weren't going to knock on all the doors and my guess was that not all of them would stick around all night. Skillet and I agreed that we'd just have to wait them out and try to find an escape route. We were on the second floor of a two-story motel so trying to get out unnoticed would be more difficult than if we were on the ground floor. Skillet and I stayed up all night trying to figure a way out of our mess. When dawn broke there were four Nazis still in the parking lot sitting in the back of a pickup truck. One of them looked gigantic. I have to admit, they were persistent and didn't seem like they were going to give up. They definitely thought they had their prey cornered. We were all getting hungry and we were tired as hell. I was getting impatient and was wondering if we should just go out there and get it all over with. Leyna implored us not to so we were going to have to wait them out a bit longer. JD tried calling the front desk to warn them of people loitering and harassing but nothing was done about it. We were exhausted and fell asleep for a couple of hours and when we woke up the skinheads were still there. The Nazi fucks just would not leave. The front desk called us and asked us to move our van since it was not in a proper parking space. We couldn't avoid them for much longer. By this time it was around 8PM. "We need a distraction" said Skillet. "Wake the others up and tell them to get ready to move. Give me a few." I woke everyone and told them that the Nazis were outside and that we needed to be ready to get the gently caress out. Skillet was sitting at the small desk in the room flipping through the phone book. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Hey, I'd like to order 3 large pizzas..."" Are you loving kidding me?? I thought. Is this motherfucker actually ordering pizzas?! I knew what he was doing but I couldn't believe it. He finished his phone call. "I ordered some pizza for the assholes. It'll be here in about an hour or so. Get ready." We all huddled together at the window and watched for the pizza guy. Always the clown Poodle said "I wonder if they'll tip him!" Skillet had Leyna's gun which gave us a little bit of reassurance. Both Skillet and I assumed, or rather expected, them to be armed as well. The pizza arrived at a little after noon. Skillet had asked for the order be delivered to "the guys in the parking lot" of the motel. Pizzas in hand, the delivery guy walked up to the skinheads. "GO GO GO! Stay low and go down the back stairs!" said Skillet. We quietly opened the door and filed out one by on and started to descend the stairs leading to the open air hallway which would give us a path to the back parking lot. With a quick glance back I saw the Nazis yelling at the pizza guy. It didn't look like he was going to get paid. I heard someone yell "There they are!!" and saw one of the Nazi's pointing in our direction. They all bolted straight for us, knocking the pizzas out of the delivery guy's hands. gently caress We didn't have a whole lot of distance between us and the lunatics to work with so we had to move very quickly. Poodle was the fastest of us so I tossed him the keys and told him to start the engine and open the doors. I turned around and knocked over a maid's housekeeping cart to try to slow them down in the narrow hallway. I was the last one to jump in the van and Poodle drove us out of the parking lot onto the highway. Looking back at the motel I saw the Nazis jump into their truck and race out of the lot trying to catch up to us. "Let me drive! Switch places!" yelled Skillet. Poodle slowed down a little to make the driver switch less dangerous and that allowed the skinheads to gain on us. gently caress. I opened the side doors and peeked out behind us and saw them quickly closing the distance. I could see Gigantor, the huge Nazi, in the back of the truck along with one other Nazi. The fourth skinhead was in the passenger seat with his head out the window screaming at us. We were traveling at about 60mph; Brown Betty couldn't go too much faster for any length of time. I didn't know what else to do so I just grabbed one of the remaining dented cans of food and tossed it at the truck. Bam! It hit the hood but didn't do much damage or cause them to slow down or change course. Leyna and JD each grabbed a can and threw them. One hit the windshield and cracked it making the truck swerve. Suddenly, Poodle pushed me out of the way of the door and said "Watch this!". He had taken down the beaded curtain that separated the front from the back. He told Skillet to steer a little to the left so that he could get a good angle. Holding the curtain like a matador, he lined it up with the truck and let it go. It landed on the hood and then kind of unfurled and covered up part of the windshield. The Nazi driver slammed on his brakes. "Holy gently caress Poodle! That was badass!" I yelled. That bought us some precious time and distance, but the Nazis quickly restarted their pursuit. Not being very familiar with Baltimore we didn't know where we were headed. Skillet accelerated, pushing my dear Brown Betty to her limits. She started to overheat. gently caress!!! It was clear we weren't going to get much farther. Skillet looked for a place to pull off of the highway and ditch them. There weren't many choices and we were quickly running out of road; we were heading toward the shore of the Patapsco river. Brown Betty was dying- we had to stop. Skillet stopped the van and we all jumped out, not really knowing what to do next. We heard tires screeching and saw the Nazi-mobile round the corner. When they spotted us they stopped and turned on the high-beams. Momentarily blinded I shoved whoever was closest to me behind the van and the others followed. I saw Gigantor jump out of the bed of the truck and he had a shotgun in his hand. I expected the others to have guns as well. All we had was Leyna's handgun and JD's brass knuckles, and those weren't really a match for whatever arsenal the Nazi's had. We were trapped. There was no where to go. We had to either face them... or go for a swim. The skinheads were walking toward the van. They couldn't see us from their position so we had a few moments to make a decision. I looked at everyone and they knew exactly what I was going to say and they did not look happy. "Get in the loving water, NOW." Poodle shook his head. He was not a good swimmer. I grabbed him and pushed him toward the river. "Do you want to get shot, or just be wet for a while? JUMP IN THE loving RIVER! SWIM!!!" Skillet didn't need to be told twice. He knew it was our only real option. The others were still hesitating, until the first shotgun blast was fired. That got them moving. "YOU CANT HIDE YOU ANIMALS!" one of the skinheads yelled. That was followed by "WHITE POWER!!" and a load of all sorts of racist poo poo. The skins caught sight of us rushing to the water and fired another shot from a handgun. I dove into the river followed by everyone else. Poodle was already panicking and all he could do was dog paddle to stay afloat. Skillet grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him along as we swam away. It was pretty dark at this point and the Nazi's were standing under a light so they likely couldn't see us against the dark background of the river. We could see them doing something to Brown Betty. Gigantor went to their truck and retrieved something then went back to the van. The rest of the Nazis backed away. Flames engulfed my dear, sweet Brown Betty. The fuckers torched her and everything we owned was inside- our instruments, artwork, demo tapes, clothes.... everything. We slowly and quietly swam parallel to the shore, diving under every once in a while to make sure they'd lose sight of us. After 100 yards or so, we found a secluded spot to come ashore. The water was maybe 70 degrees so it wasn't freezing but we were still cold and shivering. Skillet and I told everyone to stay put and the two of us stealthily made our back toward the van. We got close enough that we could see that the Naz's were no longer there. Brown Betty was still burning. I started to go to her but Skillet stopped me. He was right. I had to let her go.
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Oct 1, 2020 03:16
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Oct 1, 2020 04:12
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How did the nazi gunmen find your motel hideout? Did you pick up a tail after your raid?
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Oct 1, 2020 17:45
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At the risk of dredging up painful memories, what does a 70s van smell like when it burns, other than carcinogens of course?
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Oct 1, 2020 22:51
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Can we buy Battle Cat Merch here?
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Oct 2, 2020 10:53
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quote:"Sometimes, I think the world has gone completely mad. And then I think, 'Aw, who cares? What's for supper?'" That is an awesome quote.
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Oct 2, 2020 19:33
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teardrop posted:How did the nazi gunmen find your motel hideout? Did you pick up a tail after your raid? That's something I never figured out for sure. Maybe they or one of their allies spotted the van, or maybe one of the Battle Cat guys told someone at the club where we were staying and word got around. Poodle was always trying to get women to hook up with him so it wouldn't surprise me at all if he told somebody. inkmoth posted:At the risk of dredging up painful memories, what does a 70s van smell like when it burns, other than carcinogens of course? I don't remember smelling anything except the river water. But like you said I imagine that it smelled of cancer causing burning carpet and cheap plastic.
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Oct 6, 2020 02:32
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Part 4 Chapter 4 The Titan Who Cried Like A Baby https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqU1Mjkp_ps Battle Cat looked more like an angry soaking wet cat than anything else. We were cold, exhausted, and pissed the gently caress off. Everything we had was in the van and we had little cash in our pockets. Somewhere along the way Skillet lost Leyna's gun too. It was either in the burned out van or in the river. We didn't know where the hell we were and we didn't know anyone to call except for BeanPot. Leyna was not at all in a good state of mind and Poodle wasn't feeling too well either. We decided that Skillet would stay behind with them while JD and I went to look for a payphone. The plan was to call BeanPot and ask if he could contact Captain Crotch and have him pick us up. JD and I wandered around for about half an hour before we found a phone at a convenience store. I called BeanPot and told him what happened. He didn't say much but I could feel the intense silent rage from his end. He agreed that the best thing to do was to call Captain Crotch. He gave us the Captain's number and said he would also call. He offered to come pick us up but I told him to wait until he heard from us again. I called the Captain and told him where we were. An hour or so later he arrived and JD and I led him back to where the others were. Captain took us back to his place where we got cleaned up a little. He let us borrow some fresh clothes but they really didn't fit most of us. But hell, we were happy to be clean and somewhere safe. We got some rest and the next day we sat down to discuss our next move. "We have to avenge Brown Betty" I said. "All of us need revenge." The earlier beatdown of RAHOWA wasn't enough. I wanted him to suffer more. The same went for Gigantor. Leyna said "So, what do we do?" I replied "Well, I know I want to beat the poo poo out of Gigantor. And RAHOWA needs to be dealt with too." The only ideas we could come up with involved physical violence. Not my first choice, but lines had been crossed. Brown Betty was gone but more importantly Leyna had been assaulted and put in danger. That poo poo would not go unpunished. Captain Crotch spoke up. "I know where Gigantor lives. Everyone in the scene does because it's the place you should stay away from." JD said "BATTLE CAT DOES NOT SHY AWAY FROM DANGER!!" He was really pumped up. Half joking Captain Crotch added "Why don't we just challenge him to a fight with you, Beets?" "Sure." I said. "I'll fight him anytime, anywhere." The others looked at me like I was crazy. They weren't wrong. "I can probably make that happen" said Captain. "Let me call some people and put the word out." "Be sure to target his ego" I said. "Make sure he knows I think he's a pussy. That'll get him nice and angry." Later that day Captain told me that he had set it up. Gigantor was willing to fight me on neutral ground somewhere. A few more phone calls later it was all arranged. Late at night our crew would meet his crew at a spot near the river. It was dangerous for obvious reasons- they would probably have weapons and they probably would outnumber us despite Gigantor's pledge to make it a fair fight. He really wanted to kick my rear end and the feeling was mutual. Both parties agreed that there would be no weapons. We knew better than to trust loving Nazis though. We got ready for the fight. Leyna was going to stay at Captain's while it all went down; she had had enough. JD tossed me the brass knuckles and said "Just in case." I put them in my pocket. Poodle found a baseball bat that Captain had and put in Captain's car. Skillet took the tire iron out of the trunk and put it under the seat. At midnight we went to the river. The plan was to fight on one of the docks. On the way there we passed by the parking lot where Brown Betty was. Seeing her charred husk made me even angrier and more eager to beat the poo poo out of the Nazi. The skinheads were already there when we arrived. There were four of them and five of us. I was surprised that there weren't more but I had a suspicion that there were probably a few Nazis hiding somewhere. Gigantor got out of their truck and when he saw me he grinned and started mocking me by doing some kind of ridiculous 'rain dance' like from an old Western movie. He called me a red savage animal and made a slicing motion across his throat. Now that I had a good look at him I could tell he was about three inches taller than me so that put him at around 6'7". Weight wise he had probably 20lbs on me, and he was in shape. I wasn't intimidated as I had tangled with bigger men before. He took off his shirt, revealing a big Nazi eagle tattoo on his chest. I pulled mine off as well and walked to the dock. Everyone else gathered around- the Nazis on one side and Battle Cat on the other. There were to be no rounds or any referee or any rules. This was a straight up battle between two men. The winner would be the one to walk away. We stretched and got loosened up a bit. I could tell he had some training but it looked like it was mostly boxing experience. We squared off and he said something like "I'm going to genocide your people." That gave me a rage boner. He walked forward and threw a jab. I saw it coming and slipped it and smiled at him. He bobbed and weaved and feinted jabs and hopped around trying to get me to chase him. I stood there, not moving an inch. I wanted him to come into my house. He moved closer and really started to go after me. I slipped a few strikes but a couple caught me. He hit pretty drat hard but I had been hit harder before. I retaliated and landed a couple of jabs and a cross to his head. He shook it off. I wasn't yet putting 100% into it but I knew he wasn't either. We were just feeling each other out to get our timing and distance. His Nazi friends were yelling at him to kill me. Battle Cat was laughing. We did our little dance for about a minute or so then we got into a rhythm and started trading punches heavily. I had already recognized that he was the type that skipped leg day in the gym because while his upper body was pretty muscular his legs were like twigs, especially compared to the tree trunk legs I had. I kicked him in his thigh and he winced and it made him crumple a little bit. I had my target. I let loose with a flurry of more kicks, a couple to his legs and to his ribs. He broke apart from me and trotted around for a bit trying to shake off the pain. I could tell he was getting frustrated. Battle Cat was cheering and laughing and the Nazis were screaming slurs as usual. We met again and he threw a good combo that did a bit of damage, bloodying my mouth. I returned fire with the same combination and broke his nose. He was really starting to see that this wasn't going as well as he thought it would. We clinched and I landed a couple of good body shots and he backed off. That's when he got desperate and reached into his pocket. gently caress. In a situation like this, nothing good ever comes out of a pocket. The fucker had a knife. It seems that our gentlemen's agreement was over. I immediately pulled off my belt and looped one end around my right hand and held the other end in my left hand. I was no stranger to having a knife pulled on me. He lunged forward slashing at my gut. I darted away. He lunged again, this time to my throat. Battle Cat and the Nazis stopped cheering and yelling. This was getting serious. As he backed away I landed another good leg kick to his thigh and it really hurt him. He thrust the knife at my stomach and I was able to intercept his wrist with my belt. I passed my right hand under then over his wrist, wrapping the belt around it. Now that I had control of his weapon hand I had to make sure he didn't just simply take the knife with his free hand. I was positioned to his right almost directly beside him and I had his arm extended. I lowered my shoulder and dropped all of my weight onto his arm and swept his lead leg with my foot. He went down and as he did I used the belt to strip the knife from his hand. It landed right at my feet and I kicked it off of the dock. He grabbed my legs and tripped me, pulling me down. He scrambled and got on top of me and started punching my face. Some punches connected but I blocked what I could. Blood was pouring from his nose and mouth all over my face making it impossible to see anything. He stopped punching for a moment and ripped the belt from my hand and tried to wrap it around his own hand. That gave me the chance to get out from under him. We both stood up and I wiped his blood from my eyes. Since the fair empty hand fight was no more, I reached into my pocket and slipped the brass knuckles onto my fist. It was going to be a whole new world of pain for this motherfucker. I knew exactly what I was going to do. I can't be sure if he saw the knuckles but he didn't act like he did. He came right at me and swung a big looping haymaker as hard as he could. I ducked under it and dropped to one knee. My intended target was right in front of me. I threw a right hook as hard as I could given the position I was in, and it landed right on the inside of his right knee. The brass hit so hard I'm sure I felt something crack. He screamed a blood curdling cry and I punched his knee again. The second one put him on the ground. His leg was extended straight out so I grabbed it and slipped his ankle under my left armpit. I smashed his knee again with the brass knuckles and then readjusted my grip and torqued his ankle as hard as I could. If I didn't tear his achilles tendon in half I'd be surprised. He screamed again. He was done. I looked over at Battle Cat and the Nazis. The skinheads were rushing over to where Gigantor and I were while Poodle and Skillet were getting the baseball bat and tire iron from the car. Captain Crotch had his gun in hand. I got up and stood over Gigantor. I said something like "I am of the Comanche Nation. My people are warriors. I fear no man. Get hosed you Nazi piece of poo poo" and then spit on him. One of the Nazis had a gun but Captain Crotch was way ahead of him. Captain pointed his pistol at the skinhead and said "Nope." The Nazi backed off and dropped his weapon. Poodle and Skillet ran over to the Nazi-mobile and bashed it with the bat and tire iron. They smashed out all the windows, headlights, and knocked off the side mirrors. It wasn't exactly a 1 for 1 for what they did to Brown Betty, but it was something. The other Nazis stood there and watched, not willing to get involved now that Gigantor was down and out. Gigantor laid there on the dock. He was crying his poor little racist fascist shithead eyes out. Such a pity. The guys helped me into Captain's car and we hauled rear end out of there. As we drove away I looked back and saw Gigantor still down, bawling. Seeing that felt good. Really good. We went back to Captain Crotch's place and Leyna was relieved to see that we were all okay. She said "BeanPot called. RAHOWA is causing trouble again around BeanPot's house." We rested up until the next afternoon. Captain Crotch drove us back to DC. "One down, one to go" said Poodle.
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Oct 6, 2020 02:34
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I have written and re-written this post a dozen times, but let me just be succinct: Holy poo poo. I am just amazed by how good your writing is.
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Oct 6, 2020 03:12
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Thank you! I appreciate that. Personally I think my writing is pretty clunky and juvenile, but I've never written anything before so I'm learning as I go along. Also, all this stuff happened so long ago that it's impossible to recall everything that was said so I know the dialogue is terrible. These stories are fun to tell so I'm glad to know they're being enjoyed and that's all that matters!
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Oct 6, 2020 03:23
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This belongs in print with illustrations and maybe it should even be a movie? You write so well and your stories are amazing. Can't wait for the next chapter.
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Oct 6, 2020 04:12
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isaboo posted:Thank you! I appreciate that. Personally I think my writing is pretty clunky and juvenile, but I've never written anything before so I'm learning as I go along. it's better than you give yourself credit for and it also totally fits the content. like, imagine a nazi beating punk band story told with a bunch of quintisyllable words through labyrinthine recursive metaphor. .... ... ... actually, hold on, have you thought about shopping this to cormac mccarthy? The Voice of Labor fucked around with this message at 09:49 on Oct 6, 2020 |
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Oct 6, 2020 08:46
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isaboo posted:Thank you! I appreciate that. Personally I think my writing is pretty clunky and juvenile, but I've never written anything before so I'm learning as I go along. Also, all this stuff happened so long ago that it's impossible to recall everything that was said so I know the dialogue is terrible. These stories are fun to tell so I'm glad to know they're being enjoyed and that's all that matters! You write really well. You’re a natural story-teller.
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Oct 6, 2020 09:47
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Very cool thread and great stories, I agree with others that your style is really good for the material. I'd be super sceptical about this if I hadn't played in a band for half my life and didn't know some of the punks in my podunk hometown, who lived similar lives. Is there any of the music left over to hear? This was before any digital music was a thing but do you have anything stored somewhere? I'd love to hear it.
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Oct 6, 2020 12:08
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Part 4 Chapter 5 ...And Justice For All https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_fKAsvJrFes When we arrived at BeanPot's house we all gave the old man a hug and thanked him for everything that he had already done, and for everything that he would ever do. We all crashed pretty hard and when we woke up BeanPot had a nice breakfast prepared for us- eggs and beans. Captain Crotch woke up before the rest of us and had been talking to BeanPot about a potential plan for dealing with RAHOWA. After breakfast Captain Crotch pulled Skillet and I aside. "I can't believe the way the old man thinks," he said. "He's clever." "BeanPot said that Skillet losing Leyna's gun gave him an idea. Andrew is a well known trouble maker and has been arrested at least a couple times. BeanPot is guessing that another arrest, and the right kind of arrest, would be really loving bad for the guy. All we need is a gun... and maybe some drugs." The idea was to plant a gun in Andrew's car and then report the gun as stolen. Planting some cocaine along with the gun would be even better. "Hell yes!" I said. "So where do we get a gun and coke?" The Captain said he could get the drugs, and BeanPot said we should report Leyna's gun as stolen and call in a tip that Andrew took it. Obviously Leyna's gun wouldn't be found but Captain Crotch had an unregistered gun that he could plant. I suggested an additional tactic- we could remove the license plate from his car and report it stolen as well. Skillet agreed; this is how we would do it. We filled in the others on the plan and they were less than impressed but willing to go along with it. I told them they didn't have to do anything; it would be Skillet and I doing the dirty work with Captain Crotch as our getaway driver. We were going to do it the following night. In the meantime BeanPot gave us money to buy some cheap clothes and more importantly he gave us some money to buy the drugs. It was loving cool to have this old WW2 badass fund our little operation. And he was more than happy to do it because gently caress Nazis. We had enough money left over to get a room at a motel. We didn't want BeanPot to be involved any more than he already was so we moved our base of operations away from his house. Leyna stayed with him. She and the old man had developed a real connection. Captain bought the cocaine and gave it and the gun to Skillet. That evening we did a drive-by of the place Andrew normally stayed when he was in DC. The area wasn't too busy but it was well lit so we'd have to be extra sneaky to make this work. Captain found a good spot to park about two blocks away. Skillet and I would get out there and make our way to the Nazi's place while Captain would wait about 10 minutes before coming to us. That should be plenty of time to do our job. I asked Captain Crotch if he really wanted to do this since it was a huge risk. He said not to worry and that it wasn't his first rodeo; he had done stuff like this before. I didn't ask him to elaborate but he did seem to be in his element. That made me feel more confident in the plan. We decided to initiate Operation Get hosed Nazi Scum at 4am. We gathered everything we'd need: the gun, the drugs, a wrench to remove the license plate, and a wire coat hanger to pop the lock on the car. Captain had his everyday carry pistol just in case. At about 3:30AM we headed to the target location. We did another drive-by before circling back to where Captain would park. Everything looked good; the street was quiet and all the homes were dark. Andrew's car was the only one parked on the street in front of the apartment. Skillet and I started making our way there, ducking into shadows and sprinting from cover to cover. I crouched down behind Andrew's car and removed the license plate while Skillet kept an eye on the apartment. The next task was to get into the car. Skillet had experience breaking into cars so he started working the hanger through the window. It was an older car so it had post-style locks that made for pretty easy work for someone that knew what they were doing. It took him a bit longer than we anticipated, and in that time Captain Crotch drove by ready to pick us up. As he rolled past we gave him the sign that we were ok but to circle back around for us after another 5 minutes or so. I heard the lock disengage and Skillet opened the door. He put the gun and cocaine under the front seat on the driver's side. Skillet opened the glove box and removed every piece of registration paperwork he could find. A couple of minutes later Captain Crotch returned and we drove away feeling pretty loving clever. Later in the morning we'd make two phone calls- one for the stolen gun and one for the car. Back at the motel Captain Crotch called the police and reported the car as stolen. An officer came to the motel and took Captain's statement while the rest of us remained out of sight. Captain Crotch made up some kind of story about witnessing a man remove the license plate and break into the vehicle before speeding off. He gave a description of Andrew. The officer was convinced and said they'd issue a lookout order for the suspect and the car. A few hours later Leyna did her part. She and BeanPot went to the local precinct office and reported the 'stolen' gun. She told them it was registered back in Georgia but it had gone missing from her vehicle while she was visiting DC. She said she suspected a man she had seen snooping around her car earlier in the day. She also gave a description that matched Andrew. With all of those pieces in place, we felt that we had done all that we could do short of confronting him directly. I had already smashed his loving Nazi face so I didn't think more violence was necessary and frankly I was tired of it all. Captain Crotch went home to Baltimore while the rest of us laid low at the motel for a couple of days and just sat around and ate pizza and drank beer. Leyna called us from BeanPot's and told us she received word from the police. They asked her to visit the station and look at mug shots, telling her that while her gun wasn't found the suspect was in a stolen car and a different gun was found. She identified Andrew as the man she saw near her car. Apparently there was heroin in Andrew's car as well as the cocaine we planted. The stupid Nazi had done some of the work for us! We knew the stolen car charges wouldn't stick but the gun and drugs would probably gently caress him over pretty good. We checked out of the motel and BeanPot picked us up and took us to his place. When we got there we were surprised to see that he and Leyna had arranged for Battle Cat to play one final time. Our friends from Thermometer Leg and Bonesnapper were there as well as some of the Food Not Bombs people. None of them knew about everything that happened; they thought it was just a goodbye performance among friends. All they knew was that our van had burned up and we lost everything. They donated money so that we could buy train tickets back to Georgia. Battle Cat played the best they ever did. Every note sounded great and no one hosed up. It was brilliant. Actually I'm sure it was just as bad as every other time they played, but I choose to remember it as a good performance. After the last song Poodle took the mic and said "Hey BeanPot! This is a crazy loving world isn't it? Anyway... What's for supper?" And that's the story of the time I spent punching Nazis. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VScSEXRwUqQ
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Oct 6, 2020 20:20
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Epilogue 12oz Epilogue https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSh5aTKR_0o We all took a midnight train to Georgia except for Leyna who stayed in DC with BeanPot. She helped grow the Food Not Bombs chapter and did a lot of work in the community. She became a nurse and was with BeanPot when he peacefully passed away several years later. He was buried next to his sweetheart Linda. I'll never forget him. Back home in Georgia, Skillet took over the family farm. Poodle followed his dream of being a rock star and was in a few different bands over the years. I don't know what has happened to him since. Johnny Dangerous took a different path in life and became, of all things, a youth minister. I believe he is married and has a family now. I know that Andrew RAHOWA was sent to prison but I don't know for how long. I never found out what happened to Gigantor but I hope the Nazi gently caress has trouble walking. And as for me? I got involved in all sorts of craziness like The Time I Rode A Donkey Named Hector Through A Mall, but that's a different story. isaboo fucked around with this message at 20:49 on Oct 6, 2020 |
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Oct 6, 2020 20:33
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Best book I've read in 2020.
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Oct 6, 2020 20:59
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fun thread op. i'm glad of the epilogue too
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Oct 6, 2020 21:22
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Haha suck it Andrew
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Oct 6, 2020 21:23
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This was magnificent.
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Oct 6, 2020 21:34
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This was a very good, "classic GBS" style thread, and Nazis got hosed up so even better. Good job OP!
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Oct 6, 2020 21:50
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This is one of the best GBS stories I've ever read here, and I've been around a while (though not as long as OP). Thank you for all the time you put into writing this, and for all the punching.
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Oct 6, 2020 21:52
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Incredible stories, OP, and very well written. Every one had me on the proverbial edge of my seat the whole time. I agree that you should assemble it and shop it to someone who makes movies. The guy who did Repo Man, for one. This would make a very satisfying movie for these times. Who do you think should play you?
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Oct 6, 2020 23:49
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Thanks for all the kind words everyone! It really means a lot.Guineapig posted:Incredible stories, OP, and very well written. Every one had me on the proverbial edge of my seat the whole time. I agree that you should assemble it and shop it to someone who makes movies. The guy who did Repo Man, for one. Rudy Youngblood (Apocalypto) is the first one that comes to mind but he's too old to play a young me and he's about 5 inches too short. Someone like him though. Based on the advice given earlier in the thread I'm going to read up on self-publishing the 4 stories I've posted here plus the Hector The Donkey story. My friends and family really want them in both e-book and paperback and hopefully some folks here would be interested in buying a copy too.
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Oct 7, 2020 00:11
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This was such a fun story, and a happy ending for all involved. Thank you for sharing it OP, what a wild ride.
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Oct 7, 2020 00:39
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This thread is loving legendary
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Oct 7, 2020 01:48
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Dr. Tim Whatley posted:Best book I've read in 2020.
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Oct 7, 2020 02:25
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Dr. Tim Whatley posted:Best book I've read in 2020.
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Oct 7, 2020 02:55
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That was a fun read, great yarn OP 
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Oct 7, 2020 03:10
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That was loving fantastic, please keep writing. You write very much in the style of 50 Foot Ant, whose stories I reread roughly once a year.
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Oct 7, 2020 03:36
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Thank you Isaboo for taking so much time telling this tale. I'm looking forward to the next one. For the uninitiated: The time I thwarted a drug robbery: A night watchman's tale. The time I crippled a Scientologist stripper: A bouncer's tale. The time I was cursed by a witch and battled a monster: A bodyguard's tale. mom and dad fight a lot fucked around with this message at 04:33 on Oct 7, 2020 |
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Oct 7, 2020 04:27
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Oh holy poo poo you're the night watchman guy.
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Oct 7, 2020 04:41
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Coasterphreak posted:That was loving fantastic, please keep writing. You write very much in the style of 50 Foot Ant, whose stories I reread roughly once a year. Yeah this was my impression too. Please do publish this!
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Oct 7, 2020 05:23
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Hey Isaboo, just a thought, you may want to have a word with a lawyer about the statute of limitations of some of the stuff you've talked about here before self publishing. You don't want to be giving nazi fucks any ammunition to be able to sue you.
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Oct 7, 2020 09:46
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Isaboo I usually don't post but god drat that was a great read. Thanks for taking the time to write it.
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Oct 7, 2020 09:54
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