Gunther

Word association Game!

Child

the alphabet game. lol

Romance

Post a random fact about yourself.

I am watching Major Payne while typing this.

Current Mood in One Gif

the alphabet game. lol

Label

Word association Game!

Image

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Right Hook

_{Brief cameo by @HeySeuss}

Part 1 of 2

The Wrong Hook

Joe Hooker had enjoyed himself with his family. He knew they weren’t really his family, but he didn’t care. For all intents and purposes, they were. His sorrowful heart longed for the days with his brothers and Penny. He missed her a lot. He didn’t talk too much about the McGinnis girl. She was his best friend on the farm.

He could feel the inebriation from the alcohol getting to him. The reverie of dancing and singing with the crew of the China Doll was over. He left the partying and found another hole in the wall to wallow in for a while. He wanted to be alone. The crew had departed their separate ways. He knew the night was not over for him, yet. Maybe it wasn’t safe for him to be alone. But he wanted to be alone damn it!

When he was alone and intoxicated, oftentimes his thoughts took a dark turn. ‘Why the fuck did you live, asshole?!’ Joe thought to himself. His internal monologue rebuked his very existence. This question plagued the man from Hera for the past decade or more. Everyone he loved was dead. He could feel the anger, the rage welling up inside him. He was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in the ‘verse. ‘You are a no good, worthless piece of shit. Everyone hates you. No one will ever love you!’

The alcohol speaking to him was loud and clear. He staggered down the road finding a new watering hole to duck into. The sign read, “Twirling Ra__t.” He sidled up to the bar, shoved a stool between his legs to steady himself. “Rum!” He placed a few coins on the bar and waited for the shot glass. He eyeballed the room to see what sort of refuse inhabited this seedy establishment. It was late. He knew only the professional imbibers would have remained this time of the night or more precisely, the morning. He noticed he inadvertently placed the dubloon Cyd Skye gave him while they were on New Melbourne. He thought of the young aquamarine haired girl. But the thought quickly left him as he returned to the here and now. He placed the coin back in his pocket.

He was already intoxicated and just wanted to feel completely numb. It wasn’t enough. It never was. He knocked the shot glass back. The burning liquid slid down his throat easily. It felt good. “Another one!” The second and third shot glasses went down as quickly as the first. He was quite drunk before he walked in and getting all the more.

Hook played out his happy-go-lucky party going hand at the previous venue with his family. Now he was pissed. His brothers were taken from him. Penny, his love was gone. He would never know true love. No one wanted him and he couldn’t have her. He did not care anymore. The rage, the anger boiled higher and higher. He picked someone out of the crowd. ‘He looks like an asshole. Fuck him.’ Joe was definitely looking for a fight—someone to take his frustration out on.

The classic and most time-tested way to start a fight, or at least an argument that’d lead to a fight, was to order a beer, which Hook did, and then take that beer onto the dance floor, bump into the chosen target, and spill the beer.

“What the fuck man!?!?” exclaimed the random person picked for the moment, sopping wet shirt, eyes bleary, a big one, “You ruined my shirt!” He was already flexing menacingly beneath the aforementioned shirt, a blue polo to go with the salmon shorts.

It was a moment of truth, a split-second decision, and this guy rose up to the expectation; he took a swing right at Hook. Definitely not a martial artist, maybe a college wrestler at one time, so it was more force than skill.

Joe Hooker saw the punch coming, but his reaction time was delayed from the alcohol. Although his left arm was on its way up, he caught the punch in the side of the head. It knocked him back a bit, sobering him slightly. The body releases enough endorphins to keep you sufficiently awake to pay attention to what is going on when stress levels increase.

Hook reeled to the right from the punch to the side of the head. It was enough force for him to load his own right cross. When he returned to an upright position, slightly leaned forward, he swiveled his body around to the left as his right cross went straight for the man’s jaw. By rotating his upper body, he was able to generate more force to the punch. This was a learned technique. Maybe he learned it from Lenny or from his brothers, but it was learned nonetheless. He could never say he knows martial arts as some would call it, but he did know how to fight after years of training, accidental or intentional.

The punch landed right on the lips sending the blue polo shirt-wearing man staggering back into the crowd. Before another punch could be thrown, two muscle bulging men were on Hook and his target quickly. They grabbed the two, dragged them to the door and tossed them outside.

“You started this, fucker!” the salmon pants wearer yelled at Joe Hooker.

“You threw the first punch!” Joe slurred at the man. “Come on, let’s go!” Joe led the man away. He followed.

The two found a darkened alley to vent their hostilities, their anger. Joe turned towards the guy, rotating his body to the right unleashing a devastating right cross. Again, the punch hit the man’s lip. Blood spurted from the lip and landed on Joe’s shirt. The man stumbled back and charged at Joe tackling him to the ground.

Joe did not go to the ground. Joe was prepared for this move. He brought both forearms up and leaned into the man as he approached. When he latched onto Joe, his forearms impacted on the man’s shoulders. Joe spread his feet out behind him, to remain balanced and afoot. The other man was inebriated enough to prevent himself from going to the ground. Joe immediately jumped on top of him, straddling the man’s stomach and started punching his face. He wailed back and forth using left and right fists. He hammered into the man’s head, beating him mercilessly. Blood was seeping and spurting from various wounds on his face. At first the man tried to stop Joe by putting up his arms, when this didn’t work, he went limp. “You killed my brothers!” Joe softly screamed at the man. “you killed my family!” Blaming this random stranger for their deaths again at the injured man. “I hate you! You must die for what you did to them!” His fists were covered in blood. Cuts had formed on his knuckles from the pounding. Blood splashed up from the wounds that used to resemble a human head. They splashed on Joe’s clothing; his pants and his shirt.

Joe allowed his anger to take control of his body. He rocked back and forth, punching and hitting the man. Eventually, the blue polo wearing man lost consciousness and succumbed to his wounds. His face was covered in bloody bruises and broken bones. Blood seeping from various cuts and from his ears, eyes, nose and mouth. It is possible he killed the man, but Joe did not know. The extent of his wounds could only be defined as fatal.

He began to feel the effects of his effort, tiring from all the punches. He stopped what he was doing. He looked at his face. It was unrecognizable. He realized he had done something wrong. He struggled to regain his feet. He staggered back and let out a whimper. ‘What have you done, Joe?’ he thought to himself. ‘You killed him just like that Nánrén on Persephone.’ (tr: Nánrén = man)

Joe left the alley and staggered back towards the China Doll. He got about a hundred yards from the mooring dock where the China Doll was tethered and fell. He lay in a mud puddle off the road. It was dark. Nighttime. He was covered in mud and blood. The blood was more spattered in various places on his pants and his shirt. The inebriation was wearing off. The fatigue from fighting was setting in. He was spent and collapsed into the muddy soil passing out.

Word association Game!

Picturesque

the alphabet game. lol

Jubilant

Current Mood in One Gif