Because There is More!
By now Kirby and his friends were my friends. They kicked me around a lot, but it was better than constantly being made fun of by the other goody two shoes assholes I knew. Judy’s dad worked at the Ford Truck plant on the night shift so he was not home in the evenings. Judy would have small parties where Kirby and the guys would get together and invite me to hang out with them. Sometimes we’d play silly games like who could beat the shit out of who, my favorite one was who could land the hardest punch. This involved the person who would receive the punch standing firmly on the ground and throwing out his chest.
The person who would punch his chest would wind up and throw his fist as hard as he could and hit the other person’s sternum of his chest in an effort to knock him off of his feet. If you missed the person’s chest the receiver was allowed to slug you in the face.
My turn came up and I was supposed to hit Joe in the chest. Joe stood firm on the ground, I wound up and let go, I planted my fist firmly in to his sternum and he moved back just a little from the blow. Joe was impressed and so was I for that matter, I just moved a 6 foot 2 inch mountain, even if it was only a cunt hair. Now it was my turned to receive the punch. Joe told me to get ready and he let loose with a force that felt as though he put a hole in my chest, I fell to the ground like a snapped twig, Joe smiled was the victor!
When Kirby and Judy fought, they do that stupid thing where Judy would get all teary eyed and stomp off out of the room and Kirby would whine about how he didn’t mean what he said…. and blah blah. I’d just sit and roll joints and light them one after the other while they carried on sometimes if there was a small mountain of PCP I cut Kirby a line as he would pass by as they argued from room to room.
Meanwhile Joe, Tank and Bull were out in front of Joe’s house one night in an old Ford Galaxie 500 that Joe’s older brother owned. The car’s alternator was dead but they could still listen to the radio. I sold them some downers that I stole and they bought themselves 2 cases of beer. I was hanging out with Snake that night, and we were out, he was buying a couple of pounds of weed and he had offered me a ten dollar bag if I took him to get them. Ok, back to Joe, Joe,Tank and Bull were having a grand old time getting shit faced, when all of a sudden Joe turned the ignition key to see what would happen. Joe put the car in gear and off they went in their metal coffin. Joe drove them about 2 miles down a straight stretch of road before they got to an intersection and Wham! they clipped a pole clean off that had a traffic light strung to it, the car came to an abrupt halt and the steering wheel rammed into Joe’s sternum and cracked it (that same chest that 2 weeks ago I tried to break, and it took a steering wheel to do it) Tank flew from the back seat and smashed his knee into the dashboard, and Bull, Bull flew like a broken angel through the front windshield he laid outside on the ground with his face cut into little ribbons from the non-shatterproof glass of the 1950s.