I'll take the smooth guy over the bearded guy.
Monday, June 23, 2008
At the workshop
When I went to the Terminal Combat Training Center, I didn't know my best bud would be an unasked volunteer.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
First part of a story
A restaurant I worked at several years ago:
There were 5 waiters: 2 of us, including me, gay, 3 straight.
There were 5 kitchen staff: 4 Arabs, 1 Israeli
First the waiters: Two of them, Harry and Chad were over six feet tall, both high school football stars, muscular, handsome, cocky, hairy chests… the other- Glen- a shorter, leaner Greenpeace-loving guy, but he had to have been even stronger, he had smooth skin, sensitive eyes but round shoulders and biceps that beat both the football stars and both of us gay guys when we’d armwrestle after work. He was always a little embarrassed that he always won. The other gay waiter, Nate was about 5’10”, handsome with a thick neck and veiny forearms. I was, and am a lanky 190 lbs.
The kitchen staff: 4 Arabs, all hyper-masculine, 3 of them hairy with mustaches- the two chefs were both 6 foot exactly but one Zihar was the thickest guy there, his arms were as thick as my legs, the other Nazir was lean and mean as fuck, all muscle but his biceps came out of nowhere, his neck was thicker than his head.
The other two Arabs were the owner’s brother, J.,the oldest there at 43. He gave everyone shit when they goofed off. J. was a ladies man and never let anyone forget it. He always wore his shirts open and wore a gold chain, pretty face, tight pants, lighter brown hair. The last Arab, Abdul, was a half-pint, smaller than everyone there, younger too, maybe 16 but with a nice body he worked on hard. He had a little beard. He was Zihars half-brother. No love was lost between them.
Now the Israeli… David. David was a little psycho, but he was usually so quiet that you’d never know. But if you were ever alone with him, and maybe if he’d had a beer or two after a shift, he’d start talking about what he’d do to any of the Arabs if he ever got them alone away from the knives. David was a busser, trash guy, he had the keys to the place because the owners brother J was always cutting out early to leave us alone after the dinner shift. He had pussy lined up.
David had the toughest, most muscular body I’d ever seen in person. His body was hairless, he had the face of an angel, full red lips, sensitive eyes, a little beard and mustache, and soft curly black hair. He wore what was issued him: a thin cotton short sleeved shirt and loose k.p. pants. His arms were veiny and his biceps and shoulders were so round they would split the seams of his cheap shirts.
There was always a lot of aggressive horseplay, usually after the owners left, just after the last diners.
Zihar would often pick gay Nate up under his arms and lift him over head in a military press. Nate would just hang there and they would stare at each other, Zihar saying something in Arabic. Nazir laughing at it.
But we all victimized that boy. No one left him alone. Even the half pint kid, 16 years old would put Nate in a sleeper to impress his older brother. The other waiters just humiliated Nate verbally, except Glen the Greenpeace guy who was naturally accepting and tolerant.
Once, when Zahir was behind the stove, Nazir took a tablecloth from the linen closet and wrapped it around Nates neck. With muscles coming out of nowhere he hefted Nate up effectively hanging him.
The Arabs all laughed at it except for the owners brother who made them put Nate down.
One night when everything seemed to go wrong at dinner, and we poured ourselves shots to unwind, the armwrestling and horsing around went on for a couple of hours. The waiters were taking their time setting up for the next day. Nate had disappeared.
I was pissed off that he had left all the work for the rest of us and I went looking for him. I found him in the office.
Nate was sucking Zihar’s cock and was being fucked from behind by the thin, vascular Nazir. They were talking to each other and making signals with their hands. Zihar looked down at Nates head bobbing on his cock and made a signal to his buddy. A head grasp, neck twist. Nazir said something and then mimed garroting Nate. I watched hidden in the doorway to the storage room.
“Do you know what they are saying?”
It was David. His shirt was off. David mimed with his incredible 16 inch biceps and cantaloupe shoulders…”Zihar says he will snap Nates neck when he comes, kill the faggot….Nazir says that Nate will bite off his cock if he snaps his neck. Nazir says instead he will strangle him to death from behind while he sits on his cock.”
When David made a strangling motion he flexed every muscle in his arms. It was almost enough to make my already erect cock explode.
“Fucking Arabs. Such hypocrites. Kill the faggot. After I come in him.”
“You think Nate knows they are fantasizing about snapping his neck?”
“It doesn’t sound much like fantasizing.”
I stared. My mouth opened involuntarily.
“What are you gonna do? Try to save him? Either one of them could rip you in half. You don’t know what they did before. They were in the Army. “
“Like they killed guys?”
“They point to one of you waiters and say, I snapped the neck of an American that looked just like that.”
“You think they did?”
“That pussy Nazir is obsessed with snapping necks. I think he did. I know he worked for American companies as a translator. I think he might have taken out a few guys when he could.”
I had a tent in my black work pants.
“You like that? You want part of that?… maybe you could get your ass plugged too. I’m going to get some smokes. Try to stay alive, okay?”
When David was gone, I went back to the dining room where the other waiters were drinking and folding napkins.
Zihar’s little brother Abdul was armwrestling Harry. Harry had his sleeve pushed up and Chad was pointing at it, shouting “Look at that! You can’t beat red-blooded American beef!”
Abdul was getting mad. Losing and being taunted by both of them was making him falter, making him curse. His small tennis ball bicep was bursting with veins.
“Give up, before you crap your pants,” Harry said, laughing.
Abdul reached over with his free left hand and slap/punched Harry in the face.
Glen, the Greenpeace guy, tried to jump in and urge calm. Chad gave an inciting yell. Harry and Abdul faced off. Abdul yelled something in Arabic and Zihar and Nazir came in the dining room. They were just in time to see Harry level Abdul with a roundhouse punch.
Zihar ran towards the action, but Chad waylaid him. They rolled to the floor. They were the two biggest and almost evenly matched, except I guess Chad had never killed a guy, he was just a suburban football jock.
Glen was divided between the two fights, trying to get a hand in and pull them apart.
Nazir, looking happy as he could be, jumped Glen.
Harry lifted Abdul up from the floor by his head. Zihar shouted something like “You hurt my little brother…” but was pinned down by Chad and couldn’t get free. Abdul shouted back, sounding like he was getting control, his arms worked furiously, his muscles were pumped as full as they could go, punching Harry wherever he could. Harry yelled in pain. Abdul yelled like he was winning. Harry twisted his whole body with the 16 year olds head still in his arms.. but the kids body didn’t follow… not the way it should. Harry snapped it. Snapped Abduls neck. I saw Harrys face … he knew what he was doing. Abdul yelled… was cut short, gurgled… his tongue fell out. His eyes were wide with surprise.
“Zihar… I didn’t know… FUCK!” Harry said.
Zihar screamed and with almost superhuman strength flipped Chad onto his back cradling him in his own body. Nazir screamed. Chad screamed “No!” seeing Abdul for the first time. Seeing the lifeless eyes of the little brother of the muscle-bull behind him. I think Chad knew. We all knew. Chad just said, “Please, no…” and looked like a scared little boy when Zihar snapped his neck.
Harry seemed to have the wind knocked out of him by that and began to run. Nizar gave me a look I can’t describe except as murderous. He kneed Glen in the face, knocking him out and grabbed Harry’s ankle as he ran past.
Zihar and Nazir then were both were on Harry. Nate, just fucked by two of them came into the dining room with unzipped pants.
“Nate what the fuck are we going to do?”
“Shut up,” he said. He stroked his cock while the Arabs shouted right in Harry’s face.
The back door is heard slapping shut. J the owners brother walks in with his arms wide.
“What the fuck!”
He sees Abdul’s head, the angle wrong, eyes staring at the ceiling, tongue out. Chad’s cheek on the floor his body facing the ceiling. Chad’s eyes were staring at me, still like a boy’s, sad.
Nate backs into David who has just materialized without a word. J is pulling the cooks off Harry. They are all yelling. Unnoticed David strips his shirt off. He slides quietly up behind J. Nate gives me a look of astonishment.
David, a few inches shorter than J, reaches up and swiftly, expertly twists J’s head. We all stop when we hear the high whimper and the snap.
Head falls to hairy chest, cheek on gold chain. J falls. Zihar and Nazir are stunned.
“They fucking killed Chad,” Nate yells to David. “Those fucking Arabs snapped his neck.”
Zihar stands. He knows that he can kill Harry at any time, but David is not to be put off. Zihar looks at David’s smooth hugely muscled body. Zihar has 6 inches in height on David.
“You ready for this?” Zihar asks. He strips his own shirt off. He is built like a tank. “You been wanting this?” then Arabic.
“Fucking kill all of them” Nate yells. I don’t know what to do. I am hard as a rock. I just want to watch.
Glen stirs, pulls himself up.
“We have to get the fuck out of here,” he says to me.
Nazir and Harry are trading chest punches as challenges. Harry: I will fucking kill you too, get the fuck away from me.
Nazir: I have snapped more handsome American boy’s necks than you can imagine. I can tell them a joke and slap them on the back and snap it while they still laugh. You have no idea what I have done for my people.”
Glen walks between the two pair.
“I am getting the fuck out of…”
Nazir grabs the hippie muscle boy by the bicep, “Wait, Glen… I’ll go with you.”
I look at the big hard forearms on Nazir and the long ropy biceps, the way he holds Glen’s arm. I know something is wrong.
“No Nazir….fuck…no…”
Glen could see in Nazir’s eyes what we all knew.
“Just let me…”
“I want to show your friend Harry something my brothers taught me when I was just 120 pound kid.”
“No, man… I just…”
Glen struggled to break away. We were all watching, even David and Zihar.
Nazir swept Glen’s left knee to drop him. Glen grabbed Nazir’s neck. Harry moved to help.
“Stay there,” Zihar said.
Nazir broke Glen’s tenuous hold and pulled Glen’s chin to one side to get his back.
It was swift and stylized, Bruce Lee might have taught him. One hand on Glen’s chin, the other grabbing the hair at the crown of his head. Glen was letting out a high-pitched scream, a plea, his arms up his hands reaching behind him grabbing at Nazir’s head. You could see those big hippie biceps, but they were useless when Nazir with maniacal delight on his face, pulled in opposite directions. Harry leapt just as we heard the crack and saw Glen’s surprise as his chin flew over his shoulder. Nazir’s palms were out like a magician’s.
Harry was on him. Zihar was right behind to grab Harry. David had his cantaloupe bicep around Zihar’s neck and pulled him back. It bulged- even under the chin of the huge Arab, you could still see the round mound of it.
Zihars tongue bulged out of his mouth. It was faster than anyone could have expected, a very slight fast motion, almost imperceptible except by the effort in the grimace on David’s face, and that thick Arab neck snapped louder than all the others combined. David gave a victory scream.
“Fuck, yeah..” Nate said at my side.
Now it was just Harry and Nazir. David… and us.
There were 5 waiters: 2 of us, including me, gay, 3 straight.
There were 5 kitchen staff: 4 Arabs, 1 Israeli
First the waiters: Two of them, Harry and Chad were over six feet tall, both high school football stars, muscular, handsome, cocky, hairy chests… the other- Glen- a shorter, leaner Greenpeace-loving guy, but he had to have been even stronger, he had smooth skin, sensitive eyes but round shoulders and biceps that beat both the football stars and both of us gay guys when we’d armwrestle after work. He was always a little embarrassed that he always won. The other gay waiter, Nate was about 5’10”, handsome with a thick neck and veiny forearms. I was, and am a lanky 190 lbs.
The kitchen staff: 4 Arabs, all hyper-masculine, 3 of them hairy with mustaches- the two chefs were both 6 foot exactly but one Zihar was the thickest guy there, his arms were as thick as my legs, the other Nazir was lean and mean as fuck, all muscle but his biceps came out of nowhere, his neck was thicker than his head.
The other two Arabs were the owner’s brother, J.,the oldest there at 43. He gave everyone shit when they goofed off. J. was a ladies man and never let anyone forget it. He always wore his shirts open and wore a gold chain, pretty face, tight pants, lighter brown hair. The last Arab, Abdul, was a half-pint, smaller than everyone there, younger too, maybe 16 but with a nice body he worked on hard. He had a little beard. He was Zihars half-brother. No love was lost between them.
Now the Israeli… David. David was a little psycho, but he was usually so quiet that you’d never know. But if you were ever alone with him, and maybe if he’d had a beer or two after a shift, he’d start talking about what he’d do to any of the Arabs if he ever got them alone away from the knives. David was a busser, trash guy, he had the keys to the place because the owners brother J was always cutting out early to leave us alone after the dinner shift. He had pussy lined up.
David had the toughest, most muscular body I’d ever seen in person. His body was hairless, he had the face of an angel, full red lips, sensitive eyes, a little beard and mustache, and soft curly black hair. He wore what was issued him: a thin cotton short sleeved shirt and loose k.p. pants. His arms were veiny and his biceps and shoulders were so round they would split the seams of his cheap shirts.
There was always a lot of aggressive horseplay, usually after the owners left, just after the last diners.
Zihar would often pick gay Nate up under his arms and lift him over head in a military press. Nate would just hang there and they would stare at each other, Zihar saying something in Arabic. Nazir laughing at it.
But we all victimized that boy. No one left him alone. Even the half pint kid, 16 years old would put Nate in a sleeper to impress his older brother. The other waiters just humiliated Nate verbally, except Glen the Greenpeace guy who was naturally accepting and tolerant.
Once, when Zahir was behind the stove, Nazir took a tablecloth from the linen closet and wrapped it around Nates neck. With muscles coming out of nowhere he hefted Nate up effectively hanging him.
The Arabs all laughed at it except for the owners brother who made them put Nate down.
One night when everything seemed to go wrong at dinner, and we poured ourselves shots to unwind, the armwrestling and horsing around went on for a couple of hours. The waiters were taking their time setting up for the next day. Nate had disappeared.
I was pissed off that he had left all the work for the rest of us and I went looking for him. I found him in the office.
Nate was sucking Zihar’s cock and was being fucked from behind by the thin, vascular Nazir. They were talking to each other and making signals with their hands. Zihar looked down at Nates head bobbing on his cock and made a signal to his buddy. A head grasp, neck twist. Nazir said something and then mimed garroting Nate. I watched hidden in the doorway to the storage room.
“Do you know what they are saying?”
It was David. His shirt was off. David mimed with his incredible 16 inch biceps and cantaloupe shoulders…”Zihar says he will snap Nates neck when he comes, kill the faggot….Nazir says that Nate will bite off his cock if he snaps his neck. Nazir says instead he will strangle him to death from behind while he sits on his cock.”
When David made a strangling motion he flexed every muscle in his arms. It was almost enough to make my already erect cock explode.
“Fucking Arabs. Such hypocrites. Kill the faggot. After I come in him.”
“You think Nate knows they are fantasizing about snapping his neck?”
“It doesn’t sound much like fantasizing.”
I stared. My mouth opened involuntarily.
“What are you gonna do? Try to save him? Either one of them could rip you in half. You don’t know what they did before. They were in the Army. “
“Like they killed guys?”
“They point to one of you waiters and say, I snapped the neck of an American that looked just like that.”
“You think they did?”
“That pussy Nazir is obsessed with snapping necks. I think he did. I know he worked for American companies as a translator. I think he might have taken out a few guys when he could.”
I had a tent in my black work pants.
“You like that? You want part of that?… maybe you could get your ass plugged too. I’m going to get some smokes. Try to stay alive, okay?”
When David was gone, I went back to the dining room where the other waiters were drinking and folding napkins.
Zihar’s little brother Abdul was armwrestling Harry. Harry had his sleeve pushed up and Chad was pointing at it, shouting “Look at that! You can’t beat red-blooded American beef!”
Abdul was getting mad. Losing and being taunted by both of them was making him falter, making him curse. His small tennis ball bicep was bursting with veins.
“Give up, before you crap your pants,” Harry said, laughing.
Abdul reached over with his free left hand and slap/punched Harry in the face.
Glen, the Greenpeace guy, tried to jump in and urge calm. Chad gave an inciting yell. Harry and Abdul faced off. Abdul yelled something in Arabic and Zihar and Nazir came in the dining room. They were just in time to see Harry level Abdul with a roundhouse punch.
Zihar ran towards the action, but Chad waylaid him. They rolled to the floor. They were the two biggest and almost evenly matched, except I guess Chad had never killed a guy, he was just a suburban football jock.
Glen was divided between the two fights, trying to get a hand in and pull them apart.
Nazir, looking happy as he could be, jumped Glen.
Harry lifted Abdul up from the floor by his head. Zihar shouted something like “You hurt my little brother…” but was pinned down by Chad and couldn’t get free. Abdul shouted back, sounding like he was getting control, his arms worked furiously, his muscles were pumped as full as they could go, punching Harry wherever he could. Harry yelled in pain. Abdul yelled like he was winning. Harry twisted his whole body with the 16 year olds head still in his arms.. but the kids body didn’t follow… not the way it should. Harry snapped it. Snapped Abduls neck. I saw Harrys face … he knew what he was doing. Abdul yelled… was cut short, gurgled… his tongue fell out. His eyes were wide with surprise.
“Zihar… I didn’t know… FUCK!” Harry said.
Zihar screamed and with almost superhuman strength flipped Chad onto his back cradling him in his own body. Nazir screamed. Chad screamed “No!” seeing Abdul for the first time. Seeing the lifeless eyes of the little brother of the muscle-bull behind him. I think Chad knew. We all knew. Chad just said, “Please, no…” and looked like a scared little boy when Zihar snapped his neck.
Harry seemed to have the wind knocked out of him by that and began to run. Nizar gave me a look I can’t describe except as murderous. He kneed Glen in the face, knocking him out and grabbed Harry’s ankle as he ran past.
Zihar and Nazir then were both were on Harry. Nate, just fucked by two of them came into the dining room with unzipped pants.
“Nate what the fuck are we going to do?”
“Shut up,” he said. He stroked his cock while the Arabs shouted right in Harry’s face.
The back door is heard slapping shut. J the owners brother walks in with his arms wide.
“What the fuck!”
He sees Abdul’s head, the angle wrong, eyes staring at the ceiling, tongue out. Chad’s cheek on the floor his body facing the ceiling. Chad’s eyes were staring at me, still like a boy’s, sad.
Nate backs into David who has just materialized without a word. J is pulling the cooks off Harry. They are all yelling. Unnoticed David strips his shirt off. He slides quietly up behind J. Nate gives me a look of astonishment.
David, a few inches shorter than J, reaches up and swiftly, expertly twists J’s head. We all stop when we hear the high whimper and the snap.
Head falls to hairy chest, cheek on gold chain. J falls. Zihar and Nazir are stunned.
“They fucking killed Chad,” Nate yells to David. “Those fucking Arabs snapped his neck.”
Zihar stands. He knows that he can kill Harry at any time, but David is not to be put off. Zihar looks at David’s smooth hugely muscled body. Zihar has 6 inches in height on David.
“You ready for this?” Zihar asks. He strips his own shirt off. He is built like a tank. “You been wanting this?” then Arabic.
“Fucking kill all of them” Nate yells. I don’t know what to do. I am hard as a rock. I just want to watch.
Glen stirs, pulls himself up.
“We have to get the fuck out of here,” he says to me.
Nazir and Harry are trading chest punches as challenges. Harry: I will fucking kill you too, get the fuck away from me.
Nazir: I have snapped more handsome American boy’s necks than you can imagine. I can tell them a joke and slap them on the back and snap it while they still laugh. You have no idea what I have done for my people.”
Glen walks between the two pair.
“I am getting the fuck out of…”
Nazir grabs the hippie muscle boy by the bicep, “Wait, Glen… I’ll go with you.”
I look at the big hard forearms on Nazir and the long ropy biceps, the way he holds Glen’s arm. I know something is wrong.
“No Nazir….fuck…no…”
Glen could see in Nazir’s eyes what we all knew.
“Just let me…”
“I want to show your friend Harry something my brothers taught me when I was just 120 pound kid.”
“No, man… I just…”
Glen struggled to break away. We were all watching, even David and Zihar.
Nazir swept Glen’s left knee to drop him. Glen grabbed Nazir’s neck. Harry moved to help.
“Stay there,” Zihar said.
Nazir broke Glen’s tenuous hold and pulled Glen’s chin to one side to get his back.
It was swift and stylized, Bruce Lee might have taught him. One hand on Glen’s chin, the other grabbing the hair at the crown of his head. Glen was letting out a high-pitched scream, a plea, his arms up his hands reaching behind him grabbing at Nazir’s head. You could see those big hippie biceps, but they were useless when Nazir with maniacal delight on his face, pulled in opposite directions. Harry leapt just as we heard the crack and saw Glen’s surprise as his chin flew over his shoulder. Nazir’s palms were out like a magician’s.
Harry was on him. Zihar was right behind to grab Harry. David had his cantaloupe bicep around Zihar’s neck and pulled him back. It bulged- even under the chin of the huge Arab, you could still see the round mound of it.
Zihars tongue bulged out of his mouth. It was faster than anyone could have expected, a very slight fast motion, almost imperceptible except by the effort in the grimace on David’s face, and that thick Arab neck snapped louder than all the others combined. David gave a victory scream.
“Fuck, yeah..” Nate said at my side.
Now it was just Harry and Nazir. David… and us.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Thursday, June 5, 2008
More from the L.C.C.
They must figure out something is happening to their friends.” I was in the combat instructor’s van, we were smoking weed. Not the best journalistic ploy… but… “Was there ever a rebellion? Was there ever an escape?” I asked him.
He laughed, put his hands behind his head like he was sitting on the verandah and told me this story:
“There was a huge black guy, a fugitive, his name was Jemal…God knows where they found him. Or why they thought he could be taken out by anyone. Any of the sort of regular guys they get here. I mean, he was six foot of muscle and pissed off at everything. Never should have brought him here. Never. Must have picked him up in an alley, passed out. Jemal starts trying to escape right from the get go. Second or third night here. He breaks out…gets through the sentry at the perimeter. Easy. But the thing was, that guy, the sentry was the only other black guy here, and the only guy that Jemal would even talk to. We find this poor fuck, I mean he was a tough fuck but couldn’t have fought Jemal five seconds, we find him the next morning hanging from the fence by his neck. Must’ve strangled him with his shirt and then hung him. Fucked up, right? Jemal makes it to the road and jacks a VW van. We figured they must have pulled the van over to look at the engine… you know just thought ‘let’s pull over and fill up the radiator’ because… 1: after he offs these 2 guys the van doesn’t get him ten miles, and 2: if you were driving and you see this big fucking black killing machine hitching there looking like he just took his shirt off and strangled a guy and hung him from a fence, you don’t stop and say ‘Hop in’.”
“So there’s some scrub stomped down.. we look in there….you never seen anything like it. We find the late driver and passenger of the van, two white boys, college, probably pulled into the weeds by their long hair. They were head to head. The younger one, smaller one had his back broken, and had been hand choked. You could still see the handprints on his neck. The other, could have been his big brother was on his stomach, pants down, neck pulled back so he stared at the sky, fucked, raped. Figure he let the little brother watch with a snapped spine while he raped and snapped the neck on his big brother, then killed the boy after. This guy was nasty. We caught up with the van, like I say about ten miles later.”
“There are about 8 of us. I’m the best fighter, but this guy Kyle was just about up to my standard. We catch up to Jemal. He turns and looks at us. Bounces his pecs and laughs at us. Then Jemal fucking rushed us. He grabbed Kyle and held him up against his body, facing us. That wasn’t the smartest negotiation tactic… ‘You back off or I’ll snap his neck,’ Jemal says.
“What’d you do?”
“Shot him with tranquilizer darts, but Jemal snapped that terrified Kyle’s neck. Just tightened up his grip as he was holdin’ him. He went down… with this boy buried in his chest. You know he had biceps like bowling balls and they seized up, pulled that terrified boy’s neck up hard against his chest. Fucking guy might have had his head crushed in between those pecs.”
“We pulled Kyle out of Jemal’s arms, heard the neck crack again. Then we moved Jemal like a lightly sleeping Grizzly. Took him to the basement of the main house where they had set up a cage. And they kept him caged, at least as long as they could. He got his hands through the bars about up to the wrist where his forearms bulged out and he somehow tricked the stupid little guy we had guarding him up near, reached through, grabbed his shirt and lifted him up crushing his larynx. Anyway, pretty soon after that they put him in an exhibition fight. Jemal against Bear, who used to do my job.”
“Who won?”
“Bear was a mountain. You ever see that wrestler Goldberg? He was like that. Shaved head, all neck and lats. That is one neck no one is going to break. Jemal stayed in it for a good 3 or 4 minutes but he was starved and dehydrated. He looked crazed. He got a good bicep clamped across Bear’s face once but Bear just picked Jemal up… like a doll you know. Bear lifted him up, dropped him across his knee, pushed him to the ground and folded him backwards, Jemal screaming and crying. Snap, snap, snap screaming and screaming…. snap. I heard four snaps. Last one was his thick neck. That’s when Jemal stopped screaming”
“Now Bear…that was muscle, cause Jemal was all muscle. You know, he should… should have been called… he looked more like a silo than a bear. Massive fuck.”
“So what happened to Bear?”
“This is a peculiar place. You get peculiar types, I mean, some guys are here for their jobs, some not.”
He looked at me as though asking which I was.
“Bear not a consummate professional?’
“Bear was a straight guy, ex-wife, whores all over and kids in his wake.”
“Yeah? You’re saying….”
“Bear got caught doing something to a paying client, let’s say raping. Then on top of that he pins the guy that finds him with one hand on his throat while he finishes raping the paying client. Sick, huh?”
“Makes the guy watch him. Then he snuffs both of them at the same time. One crushed neck, one snapped.”
“They just shot him. Couldn’t do anything else but that. Now that was sick, huh?”
“Things are hard to call,” I said, thinking that rape can hardly equate with this lucrative organized mass murder.
He laughed, put his hands behind his head like he was sitting on the verandah and told me this story:
“There was a huge black guy, a fugitive, his name was Jemal…God knows where they found him. Or why they thought he could be taken out by anyone. Any of the sort of regular guys they get here. I mean, he was six foot of muscle and pissed off at everything. Never should have brought him here. Never. Must have picked him up in an alley, passed out. Jemal starts trying to escape right from the get go. Second or third night here. He breaks out…gets through the sentry at the perimeter. Easy. But the thing was, that guy, the sentry was the only other black guy here, and the only guy that Jemal would even talk to. We find this poor fuck, I mean he was a tough fuck but couldn’t have fought Jemal five seconds, we find him the next morning hanging from the fence by his neck. Must’ve strangled him with his shirt and then hung him. Fucked up, right? Jemal makes it to the road and jacks a VW van. We figured they must have pulled the van over to look at the engine… you know just thought ‘let’s pull over and fill up the radiator’ because… 1: after he offs these 2 guys the van doesn’t get him ten miles, and 2: if you were driving and you see this big fucking black killing machine hitching there looking like he just took his shirt off and strangled a guy and hung him from a fence, you don’t stop and say ‘Hop in’.”
“So there’s some scrub stomped down.. we look in there….you never seen anything like it. We find the late driver and passenger of the van, two white boys, college, probably pulled into the weeds by their long hair. They were head to head. The younger one, smaller one had his back broken, and had been hand choked. You could still see the handprints on his neck. The other, could have been his big brother was on his stomach, pants down, neck pulled back so he stared at the sky, fucked, raped. Figure he let the little brother watch with a snapped spine while he raped and snapped the neck on his big brother, then killed the boy after. This guy was nasty. We caught up with the van, like I say about ten miles later.”
“There are about 8 of us. I’m the best fighter, but this guy Kyle was just about up to my standard. We catch up to Jemal. He turns and looks at us. Bounces his pecs and laughs at us. Then Jemal fucking rushed us. He grabbed Kyle and held him up against his body, facing us. That wasn’t the smartest negotiation tactic… ‘You back off or I’ll snap his neck,’ Jemal says.
“What’d you do?”
“Shot him with tranquilizer darts, but Jemal snapped that terrified Kyle’s neck. Just tightened up his grip as he was holdin’ him. He went down… with this boy buried in his chest. You know he had biceps like bowling balls and they seized up, pulled that terrified boy’s neck up hard against his chest. Fucking guy might have had his head crushed in between those pecs.”
“We pulled Kyle out of Jemal’s arms, heard the neck crack again. Then we moved Jemal like a lightly sleeping Grizzly. Took him to the basement of the main house where they had set up a cage. And they kept him caged, at least as long as they could. He got his hands through the bars about up to the wrist where his forearms bulged out and he somehow tricked the stupid little guy we had guarding him up near, reached through, grabbed his shirt and lifted him up crushing his larynx. Anyway, pretty soon after that they put him in an exhibition fight. Jemal against Bear, who used to do my job.”
“Who won?”
“Bear was a mountain. You ever see that wrestler Goldberg? He was like that. Shaved head, all neck and lats. That is one neck no one is going to break. Jemal stayed in it for a good 3 or 4 minutes but he was starved and dehydrated. He looked crazed. He got a good bicep clamped across Bear’s face once but Bear just picked Jemal up… like a doll you know. Bear lifted him up, dropped him across his knee, pushed him to the ground and folded him backwards, Jemal screaming and crying. Snap, snap, snap screaming and screaming…. snap. I heard four snaps. Last one was his thick neck. That’s when Jemal stopped screaming”
“Now Bear…that was muscle, cause Jemal was all muscle. You know, he should… should have been called… he looked more like a silo than a bear. Massive fuck.”
“So what happened to Bear?”
“This is a peculiar place. You get peculiar types, I mean, some guys are here for their jobs, some not.”
He looked at me as though asking which I was.
“Bear not a consummate professional?’
“Bear was a straight guy, ex-wife, whores all over and kids in his wake.”
“Yeah? You’re saying….”
“Bear got caught doing something to a paying client, let’s say raping. Then on top of that he pins the guy that finds him with one hand on his throat while he finishes raping the paying client. Sick, huh?”
“Makes the guy watch him. Then he snuffs both of them at the same time. One crushed neck, one snapped.”
“They just shot him. Couldn’t do anything else but that. Now that was sick, huh?”
“Things are hard to call,” I said, thinking that rape can hardly equate with this lucrative organized mass murder.
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