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11-25-2010, 01:32 PM | #1 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: North Jersey
Posts: 10,454
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Part I (Prologue)
I sat in front of my old shop for a minute or so gazing at it, remembering what it was. Still straddled on my V-rod I lifted my sunglasses and the feeling of disgust poured over me. I could hear another V-Twin in the distance approaching. It stopped about 20 yards behind me and killed the engine. I didn't have to look over my shoulder, I knew it was Monkeywrench. I hit the red button and there was silence save for the squeek of my kickstand, the chirping birds in the distance and Monkeywrenche's voice in the background..."yeah..I'll call ya back." The back of my neck got hot and I felt like punching something and throwing up at the same time as I lifted my leg over the police tape and made my way to the steel door of the small warehouse...my old shop. I swung the heavy door open and the smell almost knocked me on my ass. I walked into the pitch black and made my way to the inside of the garage. I bent down and threw open the bay door to shed some light on the situation. I turned around as the door opened and sunlight from the ground up illuminated the disaster. Brightened my anger, my loss...Fixer's cage. I bought this old warehouse because it was out of the way, down a dirt road across from a swamp. I bought this old warehouse because it was the birth place of my "new life". No more petty criminal nonsense, no more "run ins". Just a place to wrench on my bikes, make a living doing it and lift weights with no distractions. Fixer was 4 yr old Pit-Bull I had rescued. He was a good boy and helped me keep my head on straight. I haven't "loved" anything in a long while but I do believe I loved Fixer. Everything in this God damned fire could be replaced. The bikes, the tools, the weight benches, the refridgerators filled with deca-durobolin. Fixer can't be replaced. I swore I wouldn't pledge alliegence to a MC again, I ride solo and keep to myself. To make a long story short I refused to join and they burnt my place...and Fixer alive. I can't imagine that dog who already suffered once in his life could do anything deserving of the death they gave him. I try not to think of what he looked like when it was happening, the look in those intelligent eyes. The fire dept mustve taken him out, the cage door is open and left that way. Melted tires, tools covered in ash. I take one more look and close the garage door behind me. Close another chapter of my life. As I approach the V-Rod I see Monkeywrench leaning against his bike, arms and legs crossed starring expressionless. "I'm ready." He cracks a smile and stands upright, stretches then stradles the bike and kicks up the stand. "Nice mate...nice. We gotta great benefits package and a helluva retirement plan hahaha". Ignition and then the ever so familar rumble of 2 V-Twin Harley Davidsons. "It's all gonna work out mate, always does for us. See ya at the spot, try and keep up!" He chirps his rear tire and I follow. Another new chapter of my life. I got about 10 miles ahead of me, which will go by fast following Monkeywrench. It'll give me some time to tell you how this all started...... |
11-26-2010, 12:00 AM | #2 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: North Jersey
Posts: 10,454
|
The more thing's change....
5 guys. 5 guys couldn't take me down. It woulda been 7 but I don't want any trouble so when the boys in blue showed up I let the guy whose neck was cracking in my hand go and put my hands behind the back of my head. If this were a few years back I wouldve done the same thing only I wouldve spit in the cop's face. If it were a few more years back they woulda had to call for back up. I swear trouble just finds me, and it found me earlier tonight. Thurs eve, 7pm. I wrapped up at the shop, pulled the bikes in and washed up. I had worked out earlier including alot of bag work. Haven't done that in a few weeks and it felt good to punch something. I cleaned up, left the T.V. on for Fixer, threw him some rawhide and locked up. I decided to take a ride across town on an old KZ1100 I'm working on. Yup, I do ride "rice burners on occasion". I just finished up with the air shifter and what better way to test it out then race across town for a beer and and maybe some wings. I pulled onto the gravel parking area pretty fast and that "decompression popping" of the shifter turned a few heads as I pulled in. Up the small wooden stairs across the porch and I grab a stool at "Gator's" a real blue collar joint down here near the Everglades. Normally you wouldn't catch me dead here, it's pretty "ma and pa" but I know there are no 1%er's here, no one to mess with me, and the War Mongers MC wouldn't step foot in here. I don't like the War Mongers. I had a few buddies that rode with them and a few times I tagged along, it was fine. Then came that fateful Friday night. I was at a BBQ and someone had an issue with their scoot. It took me about 5 min to it up and running. For months after that I was asked "Pledge to be a Monger!" "We take what we wan't" or "No one messes with a Monger". My answer? "No thanks." Look I've been around enough MC's to know they arent for me. I don't need any protection and they can't offer me anything I can get for myself. I'm a big guy with a good wrench, a bad temper and fast hands. No club affiliation for me. |
11-26-2010, 12:07 AM | #3 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: North Jersey
Posts: 10,454
|
Rewind 3 months back.
At a BBQ I ran into a guy who calls himself "Chief" He came up to me and says "Nicky, let us offer you a home, steady pay, any chick you want! C'mon man, we can use the muscle." Inside I was already annoyed, all the extra Testosterone from the recent injections probably didn't help that. "Look Chief, I appreciate it but I gotta decline man. I'm done with it all. I just wanna open my own gig and keep it legit, thanks but no." Chief in his own right is a big dude. When I say "big" I mean he's fat with broad shoulders and thinks he's big like me. He looks like an asshole with a bandanna and shirt 2 sizes too small. I don't believe the man has been in a fight in his entire life but for whatever reason he's got about 100 other guys in rockers that read "War Monger's MC" on em. To them he might be charismatic, to me he just comes off like he's seen too many mob and tough guy moves. Before I could finish my sentence and get out "no"...Chief was already smiling, looking down on the ground and shaking his head. He flicked his cigarette butt and laughed. Each laugh exhaling smoke in puffs much too close to my face. "Nicky, Nicky, Nicky. A War Monger takes it...I take it as a direct insult that you would refuse membership. I'm offering you something and you're makin' a jerk out of me. Maybe you question who I am as a leader that I would offer affiliation to someone who doesn't want it. Do you think I'm an asshole? I'm gonna run all of Florida. I put my hand out to you and you spit in my face. Time is gonna come I'll be the Govenor here, and Nicky there ain't gonna be a place for you to get the paper. I'm gonna go back to the keg and enjoy the BBQ, you're gonna hop on your bike and get the fuck outta my sight." My fingers had pins and needles in them I could feel my blood pumping. I wanted to pound him into the ground right then and there. You could fry an egg on my face and I was actually having trouble breathing. I was a second away from grabing him by the neck with one hand and going for my switch with the other and ending this. Can't do it. About 50 other War Mongers would be on me and these assholes are so stupid they'd probably kill for him. Take a breathe, be cool. "Ok Chiefy, I'll get outta your sight." He just stared with a disgusted look on his face, stroking his handlebar mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "Yeah good..get the FUCK outta my sight". I straddled up and kicked over my old Panhead. "Hey Chief...go fuck your mother, and fuck all your War Monger faggots while you're at it!" I sped away. If this were a legitamte MC I wouldn't have said that. If they weren't a bunch of wannabe's trying to get on History Channel's "Gangland" show I wouldn't have said that. They're a bunch of losers who want me to beat people up for them and then fix their bikes. These guys are a bunch of fake thugs. I won't run from them, but I won't show up at any of their functions or bars anymore. It felt good to say that, woulda felt better if I beat his ass. Now you know...and here I am at Gators. Pull up a stool and order a beer. I fixate on the Marlins game and take a sip. Cue balls break in the background and the opening licks to "Gimme Shelter" creep out of the juke box speakers. The more I look around, the more I like this place. Beer's cold, old man keeps em commin, just locals playin pool and catchin a buzz on a summer night. Not bad. I get up to take a leak and notice 4 guys at a round table laughing their asses off. They seem to be feeling no pain and they're not bothering anybody. When I passed someone muttered something...sounded like a British or Aussie accent "almost as big as a Road Pig"...These guys aren't War Mongers. They're real. I wan't no trouble, I have no fucking clue what a Road Pig is and they might not even be talking about me. I go back to my stool and they fade back into the dark corner of the bar. Another mug waiting for me. Good bartender this guy is. Last beer then back to the shop to check on the pup and probably just crash on the couch. I put it up to my lips and then I hear it. Standing in the doorway a group of guys "Whose piece of shit rice rocket did I just piss on outside? " Chief and 4 other War Mongers, drunk and looking for it. Trouble will find me till the day I die. I put my beer down and keep watching the Marlins, thinking...more thinking. "I said WHOSE-PIECE-OF-SHIT-RICE-BURNER-DID-I-JUST-PISS ON??...This bar belongs to the War Mongers now!" I look over at the 4 in the corner and they don't find it funny, they think it's downright hysterical. They're giggling like children for Christ's sake. "It's my bike you pissed on Chief, you remember me?" "Nicky!! Ol pal o'mine..ol' pal ol' stupid fuck Nicky!!...This is a thing of beauty!" "Yeah it is...c'mere I wanna tell you something." |
11-26-2010, 12:19 AM | #4 |
Iron Grenadier
Join Date: Jan 2009
Location: SF Bay Area
Posts: 821
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OK, ready for more!
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11-26-2010, 12:54 AM | #5 |
Oldschool fan
Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: Northern Michigan
Posts: 1,522
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keep it coming i am hooked
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11-26-2010, 08:38 PM | #6 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: North Jersey
Posts: 10,454
|
Again the feeling of pins and needles in my hands, heat on the back of my neck. My anger has taken over and I love it. I feel my heart beating and can almost feel my blood flowing.
Anger has made me make some stupid mistakes before, but not tonight. As I approach Chief I make sure to walk around the bar 1st, don't step to him directly, this way I can peak outside and make sure these sorry son's a bitches only brought the 5 I can see. Coast is clear. "You got something for me Nicky? I know you do..whatever is in your pockets, because now since this here is War Monger territory you're gonna have to pay ta--Grrrrppphhhh!!!!" Before he could finish his drunken speach I got in arm's length and grabbed his throat, I muscled him sideways with one arm. The other 4 went from loostening and poppling their necks to a state of complete awe. Typical tough guy BS. He bent and turned purple, one hand on my forearm another going for his back pocket. 2 Started towards me, the other 2 ran for the pool table. I launch Chief towards the 2 that have cues in their hands. 1 down, 2 getting back up slowly and 2 headed my way. These 2 are afraid already. They must be "hang arounds" and now they're gonna learn this club is bullshit. I step to them, pushing over 1 stool and throwing another into the closets' one chest "fuck!" He actually stopped to shake off the finger he jammed trying to catch the stool, "shhhhhit...my fuckin' hand man!..ahhhh ahhh AHHHHHH"...I grabbed his hand and squeezed as hard as I could, pulled him into my already chambered left knee. "Cops are on their way! Take it outside!!" Sorry old man, I really didn't want this to happen this way. A split second before impact his buddy jumps on my back and tries a rear naked choke on me. He's doing it wrong. My knee collides with lower side of his face and in an instant it's a crimson mist, then he drops almost lifeless. I let his hand go and he falls face 1st on the wooden floor. He's not dead. Hell he's actually on his hand's and knees "pik, pik, pik" sound of teeth spitting from his mouth and a puddle of blood under his face. The stupid fuck on my back probably won't walk right after this. I run backwards and bang him against the bar, I can feel the air come out of him and he looses his grip. I grab him by the fringe of his sleevles denim and slam him to the ground. Sorriest excuse for a pile driver I've done in awhile. "C'mon man please..please I'm out, seriously I'm out" " No you arent." I grab his t-shirt and belt buckle, raise him up to about my forehead and crack him over my knee, "Owwwwww!!" he get's tossed onto the ground...and doesn't move "Now you're out fuckface!" Place is clear, save for the 2 Mongers tending to Chief and the table of 4 way back in the corner. "Get up". "Son, please leave you've made your point" "I said get up" "Look man, listin to the old man, Chief is down and we don't want any more..." He kept talking but at this point I was already breaking a jog, Cheif lay there on the ground coughing and making stupid noises. Another second and I woulda bought it. About 2 feet away and I jump.."fuck you!" Berreta aimed at my groin, shot in between my legs in mid air. I realize I'm not hit and land my boot on his head. Gun goes flying across the floor, he lands up against the juke box and unbelievably tries to get to his feet. I keep running and land another boot to the stomach. Now he's limp, moaning and turning color. A boot to the gut will do that. That was stupid. Too much time on him. I turn to head back to Chief and his lacky and their gone. No sign of them. In the split second I have to assess where I'm at it happens. The red and blue lights shine in from the window and I know the deal. I'm standing in the middle of the bar. Just the moans of my enemy and "2 balls 1 strike for Chipper Jones" comming from the Marlins game. "Put your Godamn hands behind you're head! You're under arrest". I know the drill. My white tank top is soaked in War Monger blood and my fists look like they're practically dipped in it. Shoulda stayed home and had a drink with Fixer. Then I got dumber, the small one comes up to me with an open cuff and I put my hand on his throat and squeeze. "FREEZE!! PUT HIM DOWN OR YOU'RE DEAD!" heheh...ok. I didn't even squeeze too hard, it was really just my reaction. Reaction that's gonna cost me. I let them cuff me and once I'm cuffed his gun is holstered. I catch a night stick to the back of my knee's, which hurt like hell but I wouldn't show it. "That you're best?" They looked at each other...God I hate cops. "Let's just get this scumbag into the car". As they walk me through the bar, I see a gunshot hole in the wall. Broken tables, stools, pool cues and EMTs tending to the War Mongers I just ruined. Out onto the porch and down the stairs the humid Florida evening air hits my face and helps me understand the situation better. I feel the blood drying on my fists and and ripped tank top. Blue and red lights flash on the buidling walls and off the chrome of the random bikes parked outside. Back door of the cruiser opens and for a second as I'm being crammed down into the back of the car I think of the damage I caused...and how fucking proud I was to inflict pain on those who tried to impose their will on me. Trouble follows me....and I know no other way. As the door shuts and the cop calls it in over the radio I see the 4 who were in the corner. All of them, behind the police tape, smiling. He puts the cruiser in gear and one with a mohawk and yellow shirt gives me some half assed military salute and a grin. Headed downtown....damnit I shoulda left food out for fixer. |
11-26-2010, 10:04 PM | #7 |
Banned by request.
Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: Oklahoma
Posts: 0
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This is a fun read man, very nice.
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JohnnyAngel77 |
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11-26-2010, 11:29 PM | #8 |
Oldschool fan
Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: Northern Michigan
Posts: 1,522
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next chapter please
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11-27-2010, 01:24 AM | #9 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: North Jersey
Posts: 10,454
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Well, this has got to be the cleanest cell I was ever in. Not too much trouble round here on a Thurs night I guess. They let me get cleaned up a bit and took my prints. I was charged with assault and battery, assault on an officer, unlawful possession of a deadly weapon..for a small blade in my pocket, gimme a break. My favorite of the night, operating an unregistered motor vehicle. They took the KZ into impound.
"5'11, 220 short black hair, small scar on cheek, tattoo of a skull and pistons on left arm, tattoo that reads Fixer on right arm" I hear them from the cell going over my stats, nothing new. "Possession of anabolic steroids with intent to distribute, Christ...alot of assualt here. Receiving stolen merchandise, terroristic threats, unlawful possession of a firearm, unlawful possession with intent to harm others with a fucking crossbow? Oh Jimmy, the Judge is gonna have a field day with him tomorrow, wait'll he reads this shit!" Yep, I have the pup's name tattooed on me. When I rescued him I made him priority. Fixer became a focal point for me. Something to keep me level headed, calm, out of places like this one. I figured I was due for new ink and as almost a gift to him and a reminder to myself I'd get his name tatted on my arm. I like it. Right now I feel like I let him down, I should be walking him like I told the people at the shelter I would. Instead I've abandon him for hrs now and screwed myself up again. Close my eyes, I see the judge at 9:00 AM, 8 hrs left. "Rise and shine, you got company" I opened my eyes to see a different cop infront of the bars, behind him the clock read 10:00 AM. Why am I not in court? "Whose here?" The cop turned and left, what the fuck. "Hey! Officer! Hey, asshole! Who wants me??" " "Who else matey! Ya biggest fans!" Slender dude with long blonde pony tail-I remember him. "You were at the bar last night" "Yep, and we loved your work, makin short work o' dem loud moufs--I'm Buzza and the pleasua is awwwwl youws!" "That so?" Another voice was comming from down the hall as Buzzer just stood there with his arms crossed in front of me. "...next time have more chocolate donuts and clean this pig sty up! Haaaahah, how's our boy lookin Buzz?" Next guy was another from the table last night. "Name's Monkeywrench and I hope my associate over 'ere hasn't done anything to piss ya off yet, has that effect on some people" "You were both at the table in the corner last night. You saw the fight, there were 2 others. Why are you here" "Perseptive bloke arentcha? Well yes, there were 2 more but between you and I? They ain't the sharpest tools in the shed so it's best they wait outside. Had to pull some strings to get in here ya know? Call in a favor you might say." "You didn't answer my question." "Allow me. Right mate, so it's obvious ya aint ridin' wif no one, and why would ya want to? All of em is girls round here anyway. Cept us of course, but then again..we ain't exactly just ridin. What's ya name by da way" "Read his arm Buzz, his name if Fixer" "Right then Fix, you ever heard of the Dreadnoks?" "No. Should I have?" "See we's doin sumfin right, no one knows! Ats prolly why Zartan has been so happy wit us lately cuz we never ever let.." "Buzzer, go outside go check on Rip and Torch." "But I was just sayin how Zar--" "GO OUTSIDE!" "He gets a little excited and when he saw you last night he's been a little too excited. Look, we ain't the War Mongers and we ain't like no one else. We ride yeah, but we work too. I called in a favor and followed you down here. You can sit in this cell, see your honor on Monday or you can take me up on an offer, I getcha outta this shithole and we talk...and plan." "What are we planning?" "Your future Fixer...your future." I didn't mind them calling me Fixer. One guy was Buzzer, He was Monkeywrench and "Rip and Torch" were outside, apparently too stupid to be let into a Police Station. Who or what the fuck was a Zartan I'll worry about later. I just wanna get outta here. "Ok, we'll talk maybe we'll plan" "Right then, for now you getcha phone call and Officer Asshole o'er there says you can be out at 3 PM. We gotcha bail money. We gotcha a new scoot and it'll be outside at 3 PM...See ya then matey!" "See ya then." 1 phone call. Gotta call someone to feed Fixer and take him out. Maybe the chick from last week. 3PM...this should be good. |
11-27-2010, 06:26 AM | #10 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: Australia
Posts: 2,400
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Man, I gotta say, I try my best to avoid fan fiction, and it was an accident that I started to read yours.
However, I just subscribed to this thread, so clearly I have been missing out. Very entertaining reading. Keep it up. |
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