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When Your Helper Steals Your Tools
Primordial Human Resources Development With Dante Justine #1
© 2013 James LaFond
Today I walked into my oldest son’s house and was greeted by Banno’s second son, the lion of the clan, Dante, “Hey, old man, I’ve got a story for you. Two weeks ago and I’m still sore—getting old myself.”
For back story see Banno's Boys.
I looked down to see a right hand with three tooth-scored knuckles and immediately grabbed my ever present pen and this paper plate I am typing from…
“You know I run a crew of white boys—that means junkies of course. But even if you are a junky I expect you to be a man: to carry you end, to do your part, to uphold your word, to not trade your children’s food stamps for dope. So Jesse is complaining of chest pains, so I drop him off at my place [Dante’s home, office and equipment yard for his landscaping business]. My neighbor tells me that he saw Jesse taking my miter saw. First I called the cops. The cop doesn’t show. So I call Jesse up and he says it’s not like that and comes over my place, taking his shirt off and breaking bad with me on the driveway.”
I said, “You steal from me at my house, now you stand in my driveway and lie to me! Enough!”
“He’s six two, two-something, not real big but good size. [Dante is 5” 8’ and 165]. I hit him with the classic left hook to the cheek—was kind of worried about the diminishment of the power since I was punching so high. But he went down none-the-less. Now me—or even your old ass—is going to pop right up, but not this loser. He’s crawling to one knee. I wanted it clean so I kicked him under the chin to lift it and ripped an upper cut—took the whole rack [the four upper front teeth between incisors] out.” [The small knuckle has a deep scabbed incisor pit. The ring knuckle has a broader shallow scabbed pit. The middle knuckle has a shallow newly-scarred pit.]
“Then I gave him three-four-five hooks, left and right, and he’s going fetal and I bruise my left knuckle [middle] on his head. So I’m pissed. I started toe-kicking him, left and right, at least twice with both feet. I had these cheap-ass sneakers on—these sorry-ass sneakers. I’m still pissed at these sneakers. The balls of my feet and my toes are bruised. I just didn’t feel like the stomp was going to do as much.”
“Now he’s crawling on all fours, wimp that he is, like there is going to be some mercy. So I reached over his head and slammed a right [pronated] hook into the middle of his back over the spine and the lung, and it blows up. I thought maybe I popped a lung or snapped some ribs the way his back blew up, so I let him go. It swelled up a couple of inches instantly. I’m surprised he was able to drive. He does deserve some credit for that.”
“The cop shows up and looks at me—knew what went down. He says, ‘You’re a big boy. You can go down the courthouse and file a complaint yourself. I’ll let you handle it. Take care of it yourself.’”
“I was a little worried so I called my cop body and started to tell him that I really messed this guy up. When I got to the part about kicking him he said, ‘Stop, don’t tell me anymore. I don’t want to hear it.’”
“Then his old lady calls up, tells me he’s in the hospital with a bleed on the brain and wants his check. I told her, ‘You know, once you get your ass beat you’re fired, done—you get nothing else, no back pay.’ Sure he wants his money. But I want a picture of his head so I can laugh at it, and he didn’t send me that.”
“Then I get a call from Ryan, and Ryan says, ‘Jesse says you sneaked him. But I said you’re better than that.’
I tell him, ‘Look you know better than that. I’m not you guys. I do what I say. That’s why you guys respect me. Because when I say dig that ditch or I’ll beat your ass, you know I’m good for it, so you dig that ditch.’”
“I guess I’m my dad’s son after all.”
Dante’s father, Banno, used to collect money for an organized crime syndicate in the late 1970s and early 1980s. You can find his stories in The Logic of Steel. Dante not only runs his own business, providing employment opportunities for shiftless white trash, but also serves as a kinetic influence applications specialist for a ‘motorcycle club’, making him something of a philanthropist as well.
When Your Job Sucks
Genghis Khan’s Balls
the man cave
When Your Helper Drives Your Truck Stoned
the combat space
solo boxing
night city
logic of force
barbarism versus civilization
the greatest lie ever sold
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