That’s right, next week we’ll have a 2-for-1 sale on BotH chapters.

And trust me, you’ll love it. Here’s a quick preview:

• See actual illegal activities occurring!
• See someone that is not Gus get lucky!
• Learn why migas are tasty hangover food!
• See CT jump to conclusions!
• See the beginning of some epic 3 book story-arc foreshadowing (provided there is an audience)!
• See Zen and the art of video games in action!
• And see the stupidity surrounding the heist get amplified!

It’s gonna me money, baby!

Among items of potential sharing is my particular taste in music.  I look forward to the time when I can play for my son all the music that I enjoy.  It’s what prompted the purchase of the particular piece of (essential) baby apparel shown to the left…the first article of clothing I bought directly for my soon-to-be son Donovan.  What can I say?  I’m into the golden age of rap.

And….that is exactly what we are going to talk about today.  The Old School versus the New School.  Which one is which?  Where is the deviation?  When does old school becomes new school, or better yet, when new school becomes old?  I’ll throw my take out there for the interwebs to peruse, as well as a selection of songs that I plan on playing for my child as examples of how (and how not) to rock a rhyme that’s right on time.

First, just in case, let’s establish the timeline here, so that we get a sense of what I mean by “old school”.

Old school hip-hop refers to the time from around 1973 or so to 1984.  This period of time saw the birth of hip-hop in the form of block parties in New York City.  These parties would be large and thrown by owners of loud, expensive stereo equipment as a way to share with the community.  During these parties, DJs would isolate and extend percussion beats, making the songs longer to allow more dancing.  Rap music came about as MCs started speaking over these beats.  The ultra-competitive nature of these block party DJs led to experimentation of rapping to the beat, culminating to the release of Rapper’s Delight by the Sugarhill Gang, the first song recorded and released by a hip-hop crew, in 1979.

Names like  Treacherous Three (with Kool Moe Dee), Kurtis Blow, Fab Five Freddy, Doug E. Fresh, The Fat Boys, The Cold Crush Brothers and Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five were in the old school scene.  The old school hip hop sound was characterized by simpler rapping techniques and a focus on partying and having a good time.  However, all that would change with the arrival of a hip-hop group from Hollis, releasing their first single It’s Like That/Sucker MCs in late 1983.

What was this group that almost single-handedly changed the face of hip-hop and ushered in the era of the New School?

Run-D.M.C, of course.

With the release of their first single, followed with the release of their first album, Run-D.M.C changed the way that hip-hop music was portrayed.  Up to that point, the old school artists were dressed in the flashy outfits associated with the disco and rock acts of the time and rapping about partying.  Run-D.M.C, with their fashion of fedoras, leather jackets and unlaced Adidas shoes, showed a more street sense about them.   And, the fusion of hard rock and rap of such singles like Rock Box was a shock from the usual funk and disco-influenced offerings of the past.    People sat up and took notice.

Soon, artists like LL Cool J, the Beastie Boys, and Public Enemy were following the path blazed by Run-D.M.C.  It was truly a golden age for hip-hop.  From the 80′s through the 90′s, the diversity of hip-hop help to drive innovation, making artists strive to create quality music in order to stand out in the crowd.   This is the time for artists like Queen Latifah, Salt-N-Pepa, DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, Cypress Hill, Dr. Dre, Eazy E, Ice Cube and Ice T.  This was also the time that I remember best.  I remember the cassette tape I had of He’s the DJ, I’m the Rapper from DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince.  I remember screaming at the top of my lungs the hook for Fight For Your Right to Party, among other favorites, from the Beastie Boys album Licensed to Ill. It was, in a word, awesome.

Of course, there are the hits…and there are the misses.  The following ten musical selections are a bit of both.   Some of these are excellent.  Some of these might send shivers down your spine (and not in a good way, either).  Nevertheless, all of the following are from the same time period, from 1979 through to the mid 1990′s.   In no particular order, let’s get this party started.

10.  Rapper’s Delight – Sugarhill Gang

Of course, we start off the list with the grand daddy of rap, Rapper’s Delight.  Whether you’re like me and heard this back in the day, or if you heard it for the first time covered in the Adam Sandler movie The Wedding Singer, there is no mistaking that this song is a classic.  It is essentially a freestyle rap, with each MC proclaiming his prowess on the mic, tying together two completely disparate stories.  If there is ever a perfect example of what old school hip-hop is, this is it.

9.  Rapture – Blondie

Rapture, released in 1981, was the first hip-hop music video to be played on MTV.   This song is not considered a straight up rap, since Debbie Harry actually did sing on the track, but it is considered one of the first hip-hop songs to receive national airplay.  Some of rap’s forefathers are mentioned directly,  namely Fab Five Freddy and Grandmaster Flash.  However, the rhymes in Debbie’s rap make little to no sense in relationship to the rest of the song.  With men from Mars eating cars, bars and guitars, I fail to see the point on how it relates to the concept of rapture at all.  The rhymes are simple and the beats rather unimaginative.  It did do its part to get hip-hop out in the public’s eye, allowing the chance for better offerings to see the light of day.

8.  The Message – Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five

Released in 1982, The Message was written and performed by Sugar Hill session musician Ed “Duke Bootee” Fletcher and Furious Five MC Melle Mel.  Grandmaster Flash and the rest of the Furious Five were not interested in the song and had no part in the finished record.  However, The Message has went on to be one of the most sampled rap songs ever, with everything from the synthesizer riff to the chorus to the lyrics.  The song was so influential that it was chosen to be archived in the National Recording Registry in 2002, the first year of archival, by the Library of Congress, making it the first hip hop recording ever to receive this honor.

7.  Sucker MCs – Run-D.M.C.

With this single, Run-D.M.C. announced that school is in session. New school, that is.  The hard rock beats and aggressive rhymes were a break from the normal light funk sound that previous rappers were using.  The success of the single fueled the creation of the eponymous debut album and helped to set up Run-D.M.C. as masters of their domain.

6.  Just a Friend – Biz Markie

Biz Markie – Just A Friend
Uploaded by rikma. – Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

For some reason, Just a Friend by Biz Markie was a hit.  I am not sure why exactly this particular one-hit wonder, released in 1989, was the one song that America latched onto by the rapper, reaching to number 9 on the Billboard charts.  The chorus is horribly sung and the rhyming, while good, is certainly not on the same level as other hip-hop artists at the time.   I personally feel that it was the train-wreck quality of the chorus line that caught people’s attention.  That, and the visual of seeing Biz Markie in a powdered wig singing that hook badly was enough to produce the radio rubberneck affect that must have accounted for the song placing on the Billboard list in the first place.

5.  No Sleep Till Brooklyn – Beastie Boys

Released in 1987 on the debut studio album Licensed to Ill, the Beastie Boys took T.N.T. by AC/DC, threw in some guitar riffs and solos played by Slayer guitarist Kerry King and produced one of best known hip-hop anthems ever.  It was this track as well as others like Girls, Brass Monkey and the ever-popular (You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party!) that made the Licensed to Ill album one of the most entertaining albums of my youth.

4.  Ice Ice Baby – Vanilla Ice

Yes, I went there.  Ice Ice Baby was released in 1989 and written by Vanilla Ice, aka Robert Van Winkle, when he was 16 years old.  The song samples the bassline for Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie rather obviously, though at first they did not receive credit or royalties for the sample until later.  The song was the first hip hop single to top the Billboard charts.   However, it was also the single that caused the public to start seeing Vanilla Ice as a novelty pop act rather than a legitimate hip-hop artist, causing his popularity to decline with the mainstream audience.  The song was voted 5th in the 50 worst songs ever by Blender magazine and the video was ‘retired’ on the MTV special 25 Lame, as one of the lamest videos ever.  Take a look at the video linked above, and you can get an idea as to why it was retired.

3.  Parents Just Don’t Understand – DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince

This is the song that made Will Smith famous. How so? Well, released in 1989, this single was the first song to win the Grammy for Best Rap Performance. The success from the single, and the album He’s the DJ, I’m the Rapper, helped to get Will Smith his own show, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, where the song is referenced in four separate episodes.  This was one of my favorite songs on the album, appealing to the teenager I was at the time.

2.  U Can’t Touch This – MC Hammer

In 1990, you could not go anywhere and not hear MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This on the radio.  It was mainly this single that cause Hammer’s album Please Hammer, Don’t Hurt Em to sell over ten million copies, one of which was to me in the form of a cassette tape.  It received the Grammy for Best R&B Song and Best Rap Solo Performance in 1991, the first song to win in the new Rap Solo Performance category.  And…it was this video that is to blame for the parachute pant craze of the early 90′s.  Still, despite the video, or because of it, the song has gone on to become a hip-hop staple, with homages to it performed by Weird Al Yankovic and the television shows Glee and Family Guy.

1.  Walk This Way – Run-D.M.C. & Aerosmith

Not only did Run-D.M.C., with their cover of Walk This Way in 1986, helped to break rap into mainstream popular music, but it also revitalized Aerosmith’s career by bringing them back into mainstream pop culture after recovering from several years of drug and alcohol addiction.  The collaboration was the first rap song to break the top 5 of the Billboard’s Top 100 list by reaching the 4th spot, charting higher than the original version.  It sent Run-D.M.C. into mainstream stardom, started the trend of rap/sung collaboration and introduced a fusion of hip-hop and rock that would later become known as rap rock, all in one fell swoop.  It also prompted pop acts to start using hip-hop elements in their sound, changing the landscape of music going forward.

The list above demonstrates only a small sample of the evolution of hip-hop.   From the basic block-party rapping of the Sugarhill Gang to the innovation of Run-D.M.C., the music artists of today would not be nearly as entertaining without the music created during the golden age of hip-hop.

I am a student of both schools.   The old and the new.

I have a feeling my son will be, too.

Brotherhood of the Hand: Chapter 8

Wherein Gus is brought into the fold and, surprise,  CT’s mouth gets him in trouble.

8
“…yeah, so even though I’m technically out, I could still get called to go to war at any time.  But I think the risk is worth it, you know.  I mean, someone’s got to do it.”

Gus had some little redhead with a nice rack pinned to the wall.  Not exacty my type, even if she had a nice rack, but she was exactly Gus’s type, e.g. female.

“Hey Gus,” Carl said coming up behind him.  “Could we talk to you for a second?”

“Guys,” he whispered to us, “can’t you see I’m kinda busy here.”

“Now, man. Come on.”

I turned to the girl.  “Don’t worry sweetheart.  We’ll bring him back to you in a few minutes.”

We led Gus out into the backyard and around the corner of the house for a little privacy.  I handed out smokes and we all lit up.

“What are you guys trying to do to me.  I haven’t gotten laid in like a month. If you had given me another five minutes I would have been rolling down her panties.”

“And we could have gotten you two minutes after that,” I said.

“Fuck you, CT.”

“Hey man, think about how hot she’s getting just thinking about you.  Absence makes the pussy grow wetter.”  The two of them laughed. “Sides, this will only take a minute.”

“Yeah man,” said Carl. “It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”

“Ok, ok.  Hey,” he said as if he remembered something. “Thanks for coming out guys.  It means a lot.”

“No problem bro,” Carl answered for the both of us. “What are friends for?”

“So, Carl, that’s a hot girl you got there.  Where’d you find her?”

It was my turn to laugh.  “At work,” he answered.

“How long you been seeing her?”

“Couple of weeks.”

“You hitting that ass yet?”

“Dude!”  Carl sounded shocked, which I found hillarious.  You figure after hanging out with us for all these years he wouldn’t have still been a boy scout, but no, Carl gets uncomfortable at the weirdest things.

“I’m just fucking with you man.  I think it’s money that you found yourself a steady woman.  Maybe it’ll lighten you up a little.  In the meantime, we are going to have a fucking blast this summer, hanging out and everything, just like old times, right?”

“Sure, as long as we don’t start playing D&D every night.”

“So,” I interrupted, wanting to let Gus get back to his girl. “How would you like to make a lot of money?”

“Baby, I’m starting school in the fall, I could use all the money I can get.”

“Well, we’re talking a lot of money here.”

“What do y’all have going, a lawn service or something.”

“Nope,” Carl jumped in. “Something with less work and a way higher return?”

Gus leaned into us and asked, “Is it something illegal?”

“Maybe,” said Carl. “All you have to do is drive.”

“Drive, that’s it?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re in on this CT?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“And it’s ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” inturruped Carl, hurt.  “Why are you asking him.”

“Cause CT’s one of the smartest people I know and I don’t think he’s going to be stupid enough to fuck up his life over something unless he knows it’s going to be OK.”

“Fuck,” I prostested. “When the hell did I become the voice of reason?”

“Look, Carl” said Gus reassuringly, “It’s not that I don’t trust you.  It’s just that it’s going to be safer with the two of you than it is with one.”

“Uh, thanks I guess.”

“So,” he addressed both of us. “How long is it going to take before the pay out.”

“About a week,” said Carl, “But we’re going to have to get together for some walkthroughs and stuff.”

“Cool, cool.  Count me in guys.”

“Thanks, man,” I said.

“No problem.  I got’s to go boys.  That redheaded honey isn’t going to fuck herself.”  And with that, Gus weaved around the corner and back into the house.

“That went pretty well,” said Carl.

“Well, the man has his priorities, I’ll give you that.”  We started back toward the party, Carl in the lead.  As soon as I came around the corner, a hand grabbed my arm and spun me around.  It was dark, but I saw those grey eyes and knew I was in trouble.

—-

“A bingo hall?”

Kat had drug me back around the side of the house and forced me to tell her everything.  I was annoyed at myself.  I mean, after almost two years of not seeing her, after she broke my heart and I took steps to try and keep her from ever wanting to be around me, the woman still had the power to control my ass.

What the fuck is that shit?  I should be able to resist her.  I mean, I’m such a contrarian motherfucker that if you order me to do something I’ll do the fucking opposite just to piss you the fuck off.  But no, Kat says frog and I jump.

“Yeah” I said, hanging my head, ashamed.  We were sitting on the ground with our backs against the house.  My cup was empty and I desperately wanted a beer.

I lit a cigarette instead.

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” she asked, taking my smoke from my lips and taking a drag.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”  She handed the Camel back and I took a puff.  “I mean, there wasn’t any reason to.  I figured I’d say something to piss you off and you’d head back to Austin.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, that’s what happened last time.”

“No,” she snatched the smoke away from me, “I only left once you fucked Tiffany.”

“Well, I only did that because you said you only wanted to be friends.”

“What the fuck kind of logic is that?”

“Well, I figured that I couldn’t be around you, feeling the way I did and knowing that you didn’t feel the same way.  I couldn’t just stay away from you.  I had to do something to make you want to stay away from me.”

“God dammit CT, what makes you think I didn’t feel that way about you?”

“What the fuck, Kat?  You told me you didn’t.”

“No, you idiot.  I said that I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.  When a woman says that, it sometimes means that they can’t handle the confrontation.  I mean, you just kind of sprung it on me.”

“So?

“So? Women aren’t like men.  We don’t want someone to just come up and say that they love them.  We need things to happen spontaneously.  Organically, you know.”

“Is that how it worked with your pre-med?”

“David?  Yeah, sorta.  He was sweet about it, took his time, and planned everything out.  In fact, I think that’s part of the problem.”

“Are you saying he’s slow?”

She just stared at me.

“You now, like he rode the short bus.”

“What? No.”  She gave me a goofy look.  “Dumb-ass.”

“Well?”

She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk to me about this.  Like it was a secret, or that she was having doubts about becoming a double agent.

“Well,” she said finally, “it’s that he has everything planned out.  He knows how long it’s going to be to finish school, what medical school he want’s to go to, the hospital to intern at, everything.  He even told me when we were going to have the wedding.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Yeah.  I mean, it’s nice to know where he’s going in life, but, well, it kind of takes the fun out of everything.”

“I can imagine.”

“You know, he’s never smoked?  Tobacco or otherwise?  He says it’d jepordize his chances for medical school.”

“So, you’re saying he’s a stick in the mud.”

“No.  Well… Yeah.  I guess I’m saying he’s pretty boring.”

“And you don’t like boring.”

She smiled. “You ought to know.”

“Yeah, Miss We-Won’t-Get-In-Trouble.  I figured that out the second run in we had with the cops.”

“Which one was that?”

“The one where we broke into the pool.”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a smile. “I forgot about that.  We were so stoned that we almost drowned.”

“Yeah.  Good times.”

“God, I wish we had some pot right now.”

“Well, I happen to have a beautiful bud hidden in my car.”

Kat laughed excitedly.  “Really? Go get it.”

“Uh actually, judging by the noise, I expect the cops to be here within the hour.”

“Yeah, it is getting kind of roudy in there.  Want to go to the garage and get high?”

“Yeah, but we need to say goodbye first.”

We stood and dusted off our asses and headed to the back door.  Both the back porch and the house were crouded.  The music was loud and the talking louder.  I couldn’t see any of the guys, so I broke a path though the croud to the office.

Carl, Lisette and Evans were still in there along with some chic with pink hair failing to hit it off with Evans.

“Hey guys,” I said to the crowd. “We’re going to head out and I wanted to say ‘bye’.”

“Later,” said Evans.

“It was nice to meet you Kitty.” slured Lisette. “You know, CT is not as mean when you are here.”

“Oh really?” questioned Kat, giving me the evil eye.

“Yes, he is much more well be-” she gulped like she was trying not to vomit. “Behaved. Better behaved.”

“Well, I’ll have to do something about that,” she said with a wink.

I turned to Carl. “You need any help dude.”

“Nah, the situation is in hand.”

“Where’s Gus?”

“He headed down the hall with that redhead.”

“Well, at least one of us is getting laid to night.”

“Speak for yourself,” said the chick with the pink hair.

I didn’t want to know what that was about. “Well, OK.  Tell him we’ll talk later.  Oh, and I think that the cops will be crashing in about 30 minutes, give or take.”

“What did you do?” accused Carl.

“Nothing man.  I just think that the party’s reached critical mass.  Later.”

“Later,” they chorused.

On a side note, you may have noticed there is no pic with this chapter.   That’s due to my laptop needing to undergo surgery.   He had an unfortunate life threatening accident and he’s not in the best of shape.  It’s still touch and go at the moment, but we’re all hoping he pulls through.

“Sure.  You coming Gus?”

“In a little bit Pussy Kat.  I got some fine honeys to mingle with.”

“OK.” She leaned into me and whispered to me, her breath tickling my ear.  “I see Gus is still a horn dog.”

“Yeah, some things don’t change,” I said, leading the way to the office.

Gus’s family was from Nicaragua.  Statistically speaking, first and second generation immigrants tend to have more entrepreneurship than the average American, and Gus’s family was no exception.

His father and uncle had run a pest control business in town, till his mom and dad moved to Galveston.  His uncle tried to keep the business going, moving it’s operation into his house, and added the office the guys were in.

At the time Gus was just starting high school and talked his parents in letting him stay with his uncle.  That way he didn’t have to leave his friends.  Problem was, his uncle lived in College Station, and we were in Bryan, so he ended up going to Consolidated, but at least we got to hang out on the weekends.

Anyways, his uncle ended up shutting down the business and headed back to Nicaragua.  Instead to selling the place, Gus talked his uncle into letting him rent it cheap.  So effectively, Gus had a whole house to himself.

In case you couldn’t tell, Gus was good at talking people into stuff.  The only thing he liked more than pussy was a good argument.  I can’t tell you the amount of times we argued politics or philosophy or whatever.  Hell, he’d even argue with Evans, who was our DM of our regular D&D game.

Unsurprisingly, the fucker became a lawyer.

I slid the door open to the office and let Kat through.  “Hey guys,” she said, grabbing a chair.

There was a chorus of greetings and Carl introduced Kat to Lisette.  Then we proceeded to bullshit.  As usual Lisette wasn’t the most talkative person in the room.  Thankfully, between me and Kat, we were outgoing enough for room full of folks.

So we spent some time catching up.  Those of us that went to college talked about the classes.  Those of us with jobs talked about that.  We just generally talked about whatever came to mind as long as it didn’t involve criminal acts.  I was even nice enough not to bring up the method of Carl and Lisette’s meeting, just leaving it at they both worked at the mall (which was technically true).

As time went on, I noticed that the more she drank, the more Lisette talked and that was too much of an opportunity to pass up.  All I had to do was bide my time.

Thankfully that didn’t take too long.  The office was the only place that Gus let us smoke in the house.  It was walled off and had two large outside windows that were great for ventilation.

But it was still too much smoke for Evans.  Of the entire group, he was the only one that didn’t smoke.  Hell, he didn’t even drink.  I’m not entirely sure why he hung out with us when we were drinking.  He said it was because drunks are funny, but I just think he was lonely.

Anyways, even with the windows and ceiling fan, it was pretty smoky.  Evans coughed and said that he needed air.  I think the cough was for dramtic effect, but it didn’t matter.  What mattered was that Carl decided to join him.  Lisette elected to stay.  I assume that it was because, like all women, she felt the need to play matchmaker with me and Kat.

I drained my beer and stood.  Lisette, I noticed, was out of punch.

“Ladies, would you like me to get you somemore punch?”

“Please,” responded Kat.

“Lisette?”

“I am fine, thank you.”

“Figures,” I baited.

“What?”

“Oh nothing.”

“No, please tell me,” she nibbled.

“Well, I was just thinking that, like most Mexican’s that I’ve drunk with, you can’t hold your liqour.”

“For your information, hombre, any Mexican can out drink a Texan.  We start early and you cannot drink until you are twenty one.”

I noticed Kat smiling.  I think she figured out what my plan was and approved.  She always had an anarchistic streak.

“Prove it,” I said, setting the hook.

She handed me her cup and I headed to the bar.

When I got back, the girls were talking about how Kat and I had met.

“…so since he lived down the street, we just kinda started haning out.”

“So you grew up together, like him and Carl?”

“Oh no, not like Carl.  They were hanging out a lot longer than me and CT.  They met in, like, the fourth grade.  I personally think there is a lot of homo-erotic tension between them.”

“Hey!” I said handing the Mexican her punch.  “If either of us has a hard-on for the other, it’s definitely Carl.  I personally find the female form devine.”

“I have a question,” started Lisette.  “What does CT mean?  What does it stand for?”

“It doesn’t stand for anything,” I lied as Gus poped his head in.

Kat called me on my bullshit.  “Yes it does, doesn’t it Gus?”

“Doesn’t what?”

“That CT is an abbreviation.”

“I always thought that was his name.  Like his parents didn’t have much imagination.”

She turned to me.  “You mean he doesn’t know?”

“Doesn’t know what?” asked Gus.

Fuck, the IM chimed in. You need to put an end to this shit, like right now. “No,” I started. “No one does except you, and you promised you wouldn’t tell.”

“Wait,” said Gus, “there’s something about you that we don’t know about?  I thought we knew everything about each other.”

“It’s not important, bro.  Could we drop this?”

“OK,” smiled Kat with an amused twinkle in her eye.

“For now,” said Gus. “But we need to talk about this later.”

“Whatever,” was my response.

“Well, I gots to go.  So many honeys, so little time.”  And with that, Gus headed out.

At this point we got down to some serious drinking.  Kat had found a deck of cards in a drawer and suggested playing Dirty Hearts.

Dirty Hearts is just like playing regular Hearts with one difference: The winner of the hand gets to ask a question and the losers have to answer truthfully or they have to drink.  It’s a fun game if you either want to get to know someone, or to get shit-faced.

I normally played to lose.

I also think that Kat had the same plan that I did, which was to wring out as much info as possible out of the little thief.  She may have stacked the deck, I don’t know, but both Kat and I won more hands than straight chance would allow for.

Plus we both cheated.  I was drinking beer, and Kat switched to it from punch shortly after we started.  Lisette stuck to the punch, which is where the cheating came in.  The way Gus had mixed that shit, it was just short of flammable.

By the time Carl came back, my intel had increased quite a bit.  I had an idea of where she lived, how old she was, and that she lived with her “cousin” Chuy.  I say “cousin” cause she hesitated before answering, so I’m not so sure about their relationship.

I could probably have gotten more out of her, but Carl and Evans came back, just as Lisette was asking us what CT stood for, again.  That had been most of her questions.  Naturally I didn’t answer, and to her credit, neither did Kat.

“Dude, what are you doing to my girl?”

“Just showing her how real Texans drink.”

“I guess,” Evans chimed in, “that he’s moved up from out drinking high school kids.”

“Hey, she started it,” I justified. “She’s a competitive girl.”

“Carl,” Lisette slurred, “can you get me some more punch?”

“No babe.  No more punch for you.  Just take it easy for a while, okay?  I’m just here to grab CT so we can go talk to Gus.”

“But I want more punch,” she pouted.

“Baby, come on now.”

“Please?”

“Man,” I jumped in, “let the girl have some punch.”

“Dude!” barked Carl. “It’s your fault she’s like this.”

“Like what?” Lisette asked.  We both ignored her.

“Hey, she said that any Mexican could out drink a Texan.”

“So what?”

“So I told her to remember the Alamo and the next thing I know we’re playin Dirty Hearts.”

“Yes!” Lisette all but yells. “I am Mexican!  Tell him, Carl.”

“Sweetie, he knows you’re a Mexican.”

While Carl and I continued to argue, Evans sat down next to Lisette and reached for the cards.  “Hola, Evans,” she started. “Como estas?”

“Meh.”

“Why do they call you Monkey Boy?

“Because they’re stupid,” he said shuffling.

“You are not drinking?

“I just like to watch other people make asses out of themselves.”  He started laying down cards.

“Oh,” she says.  “What are you playing?”

“Solitaire.”

“That is a boring game.  Do you know any others?”

“Some,” he turned to were Carl and I were still bitching at each other.  “Hey!  Don’t you two have someone to talk to?”

“Fuck,” Carl said, “Yeah, we do.”

“Ok,” I started. “Lets go save Gus’s latest victim.”

And with that, we headed outside.

Brotherhood of the Hand: Chapter 6

Brotherhood of the Hand: Chapter 5

In which we meet Gus and CT picks a fight or two.

5

That Friday found Gus and I standing out side Hurricane Harry’s.

Just before I had left the house, Carl had called to tell me that he had found the perfect place.  I thought he was nuts.  I really didn’t want to think about the whole heist thing, especially right as I was heading out the door to play wingman.
Between Carl, the heist, and Kat, I really was just a ball of nerves, so I decided that my little expedition with Gus would be a way to blow off some steam.
Gus, being the sexual predator that he is, needed women.  He had already gotten a hold of everyone he knew for this party, but he had found that most of the single chicks from his past either didn’t want to talk to him or were spoken for.

So, that meant he had to go hunting.

But why Harry’s?  I hate Harry’s.  A couple of hundred drunk Aggies trying to line dance to shitty country music is not my idea of a good fucking time.

“So why to we have to do this here?”

“Have you seen the fine honeys that hang out in this place?”

“Yeah, but it’s all fucking country music in there.  Are those the kind of honeys you are looking for?”

“Honeys are honeys, baby, and the wannabe cowgirls are some of the finest.”

There was a guy a couple of people in front of us in line that kept turning around and looking in our direction.  I initially chalked it up to him being curious why a tall, tanned guy with a corp haircut that talked like he was in a fucking movie was hanging out with someone that looked like the offspring of a grizzly bear and a hippy.  I mean, apart from the way he talked, Gus looked like he belonged there.  I didn’t.  People that look like me hate Harry’s, and I’m no exception.

“Just cause they’re jeans are so tight you can tell if they shave doesn’t make them fine honeys.”

“Yeah, but you are forgetting something.”

“What’s that?” I kept looking at the dude with the swivel neck.  He seemed vaguely familiar, but I just couldn’t place him.

“Honeys like this like to play dress up.  They may paint on their jeans tonight but tomorrow they will put one some slinky red dress and go raving.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“I fucking hate ravers.”

Right about then I saw the line move in my peripheral vision and I turned to step up when I nearly ran my chin into the forehead of the staring dude.

“Whoa there,” he said stepping back.  “How you been CT?”

“Fair to middling I suppose.  Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember me?”

“Hey,” said Gus.  “Aren’t you Trey Busch?”

He looked confused staring up at Gus.  ”Yeah…”

“Gus,” he offered and Trey faked the light going on in his head.  He really didn’t remember Gus at all, but he wasn’t going to let us know that.
“Oh right, Gus.  How you guys been?”

“Now I remember you,” I started. “Yeah, Trey.  You were in junior high and high school with us.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” I continued.  “I fucking hated your prick ass.  You were such an asshole that if I wasn’t such a nice guy, I’d toss you out on to University and let them play dodge the drunk.”

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you turn around, little man, before I reconsider.”

He made some kind of noise and rejoined his group.

“Jesus, CT” started Gus.  “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Look, the older I get, the less inclined I am to suffer fools.”

He stepped up to the door man and handed him his ID and cover charge.  “Yeah, but you don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

“You need to tuck you’re shirt in,” the bouncer said in my general direction.

“What?  Why?”

“Dress code.”

“Yo, fuck this, Gus.  Let’s get out of here.”

“Just do it CT.”

“Fine, but you fucking owe me.”  I pushed my shirttails into my pants and headed inside.

We made our way to the bar at the back of the place and ordered tequila shots and a couple of beers.

“So why me?  I’m not the best wingman in the world.”

“I don’t need a wingman,” said Gus, slamming his shot.  He coughed. “What is this shit.”

I slammed mine. “Blech.  Cuervo I think.  Or the well shit.”  There’s another reason to hate Harry’s

“Hey!” Gus yelled to the bartender.  “Two more.  Sauza if you got it.”

While he did that, I glanced across the masses of people two-stepping on the dance floor.  Trey and his crew were at the other bar on the other side of the dance floor doing shots and just generally being rowdy.

“Why don’t you need a wingman?” I asked, turning back to Gus.

“Cause we’re not hunting tonight, we’re herding.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna round up as many fine babies as we can to come to my party tomorrow.  The more babies, the better my chances of getting a couple to stay the night.”

I took my second shot.  I think it was actually Sauza that time.

Now that’s tasty, pipped up the old IM. Maybe this place isn’t so bad.
“But why me?”

“Well, Carl’s got his new honey, and Evans isn’t the type to pick up babies in bars, so that leaves you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t really fit in here.  I mean, I’m the only guy here with long hair that isn’t a fucking mullet.”

“But that’s just it, baby; You’re money.  You have no problem talking up the honeys.  The fact that you don’t look like you belong is gonna make you stand out.  You’re so fucking money you don’t even know it.”

In case you couldn’t tell, Gus really liked Swingers.  Both him and Carl actually.  Carl’s all into movies and loved the whole “I’ll write a movie and put my unemployed actor friends in it” vibe.

Gus on the other hand, thought it was some kind of manual for getting laid.  Ever since he saw that movie, it was honey-baby-money all the fucking time.  I swear he thought he was Vince Vaughn, Carl was Favreau, and I was the guy that pulled the gun in the parking lot.

I took a gulp of my beer and said, “OK, then.  Lambs to the slaughter.  What’s that plan?”

“Well,” started Gus. “I’ll open up a tab that we can both put drinks on, we split up, and we both talk up any fine honeys that we find and invite them out.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Right on.”

“Meet back here at twenty-two hundred and if we don’t have the numbers we’ll hit Northgate.”

So we proceeded to mingle, Gus heading clockwise and, since I’m a contrarian bastard, I headed counter-clockwise.

I don’t understand how some folks have such a problem approaching someone.  It’s not hard at all.  Just walk up and start talking.  I guess it may be easier for me since I don’t give a shit.  I mean, if all of my hopes were dependent upon talking up some chic in a bar, I might be a little nervous too.

But at the time I had it all figured out.  I was convinced that the universe was less the Judeo-Christian idea of a benevolent god that looked after all of us and that our actions could prevent us from getting into that cosmic clubhouse at the end of it all.  No, the CT of the time believed more in the Lovcraftian idea that the universe didn’t give a fuck about what happened to this tiny backwater planet and its inhabitants and in the long run nothing really mattered at all.  So when nothing matters in the long run, the problems of the short run become negligible.

This whole philosophy makes it extreamly easy to make an ass out of yourself in front of attractive members of the opposite sex.

I was having a hit to miss ratio of about 30%.  Turns out Gus was right about how my standing out would work to my advantage.  I was memorable.  Of course about half of my hits where people that knew me as the EZ Mart guy, but since I was generally jovial during my tenure, it didn’t hurt.

I was making my way back around to meet up with Gus when my luck ran out.  I had completly forgotton about Trey and our little run in earlier, but it had appearantly been on his mind all night.  I was almost back to the bar when I was shoved hard in the back.

“Hey you fuck-” I said as I turned around, but was interrupted by a fist in the gut.  That’s the thing about short guys; they are in the perfect position for getting you in the lower body.  I’m supprised he didn’t get me in the nuts.

Trey knocked the wind out of me pretty good, I’ll give him that.  While I was catching my breath, two of his buddies tried to get my arms.

I don’t fight fair.  Never have, never will.  I always figured the point of fighting is to win, so you win by doing whatever is necessary.

So, when Trey’s buddies tried to get me, I punched the first one in the nuts.  I figured I had a couple of seconds at least before I had to worry about him again.

The other dude I got with an uppercut.  Again, I cheated. Since I was already bent over and squatted even lower when I took out contestant 1, I was coiled like a spring and used that to my advantage.  When I punched I also jumped, putting all my mass into it.  I imagine that I looked like Ryu or Ken in Streetfighter 2.  I might have even did their little battle cry.

Contestant 2 didn’t have much of a chance.  My upper cut was right under the chin.  I hope he didn’t have his tounge between his teeth, otherwise he was going to spend a couple of hours at the hospital having it sown back on.

Now it was Trey’s turn.  Of course, by that time Gus had joined the party.

In the army, they don’t teach you any kind of flashy martial arts with a bunch of roundhouse kicks or twirling acrobatics or anything like that.  They teach you something that’s now called Combatives.

The idea is simple.  You take all of the close quarters moves from all your favorite martial arts like jujitsu, judo, and Muay Thai, mix them together, build in the instinct to remove the other guy as a threat, and dumb it down to be able to teach it to any idiot in basic training, and you have a system for battlefield mayhem.

Plus add the fact that Gus had a good three inches on Trey, not to mention a bunch of just-got-out-of-the-army muscle, and Trey was pretty well fucked.  I didn’t see Gus come up to him, but I did see the take down.  Within a second Gus had Trey down on the ground in some kind of grapple that looked like he was trying to tie the little fuck into a pretzle.

I was amazed.  Most fights that you see in bars around here consist of blind drunken punches that degenerate into a pile of bodies doing more damage by sheer weight than by design, but this was a thing of bueaty.  I couldn’t look away, which was a mistake.

Contestant 1 was back up and had snuck up on me.  One second I was watching a marvel of American military might, and the next I was caught in a bear hug by some big fuck that smelled like he bathed in cheap beer and cheaper cologne.

By that point, the bouncers had noticed what was going on and started toward us.  I could have just waited for them, but I wasn’t always the most patient person in the world.

There is a trick to headbutting people.  It doesn’t matter if you are facing them or they are behind you, it’s still pretty much the same.  All you have to do is hit them with the thickest part of your skull, preferably in one of their thinner parts.  One of the nice things about the back of your head is that lovely little bump.  That’s the part you want to use.

I got contestant 1 square in the nose.

Then it was over.  The bouncers had us and we were being unceremoniously dragged to the door.

Brotherhood of the Hand: Chapter 4

In which many cigarettes are smoked at the Kettle, CT is an ass, and we are introduced to the love interest.

4

“You guys need a life.”

Evans showed up earlier than I figured.  Actually he was there when I got to the Kettle.  Appearantly there is only so much he can take of his mom and sister.

And Carl…

I could have fucking killed Carl.  Instead of just a casual talk to get to know each other, he jumps straight in to telling Evans about his plan.  So I decided to take it out on everyone.

“Look, we need to figure out what we need for this thing, you half spic bastard.”

“Is he always this rude?”  That was Lisette.  She was about 5’6, with light brown hair and eyes with a pale, slightly olive complexion.  Hell, she looked like she could have been Mexican, or Italian, or Jewish, or any number of things.

The only thing that made her seem really Mexican was the fact that she had a bit of an accent.  Even then, that was a little off.  It was less her pronunciation than her lack of of contractions that gave her the air of the foreign.  It was like she was striving for grammatical perfection.

“Yeah, usually,” said Carl.

“Bite me you Mic fuck,” I turned to Lisette. “Sweetheart, I try to offend every race, sect, creed, color, religion and sexual preference.  That way, nobody can say I’m a racist or sexist or whatever.  I’m and equal opportunity offender.”

“Actually that makes you and asshole.”

“Carl, we prefer the term ‘Mysanthropic American’.” I addressed the booth.  “So, what else do we need?”

Lisette piped up.  ”Someone said gloves, correct?”

“Yep,” noted Carl, and when I say “noted’ I mean it literally. The fucker had a little note book with the stub of a yellow 2 that he was constantly using for recording and reference like he was some kind for criminal mastermind. “Anyone have any ideas how we’re going to pay for this shit?”  I didn’t say he was good at it.

“I have some gloves,” Evans offered, and I admitted that I had a couple of hundred in the bank.

“How much do you think we’ll need?”  He seemed to ask that question to Lisette, who just shrugged.  I decided to speak up.

“Well, let’s see.  You’ve got your incidentals like gloves, but the guns are what’s gonna cost us.  I’m not sure what hot guns run but I figure we’re going to need between five and six hundred, at least.”

“If we had that much money,” commeted Evans, “we wouldn’t be doing this.”

I was getting pissed.  I mean, Carl said that he had all this shit thought out, but he kept acting like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.  Not that anyone else did, but he could have at least acted like he was in control.

I needed to vent, and this time Lissette was my target.  She’d said something like three sentances the entire fucking time, and I was tired of it.  I mean, I was supposed to be feeling her out, and her lips were closed tighter than Carl’s fucking wallet.

“Say something,” I told her.  “It’s not like you have to roll for initiative or anything.  Just talk.”

She turned to Carl. “What is he talking about?  What does he mean ‘initiative’?”

“He just went into dork-mode honey.  Don’t worry about it.”  He turned to the table.  “Why don’t we just do our own thing and pool our money later?”

“That’ll work,” I reluctantly admited.  “What else?”

“Well,” started Carl. “We’ll obviously need a car we can ditch.”

Lisette’s eyes got big.  ”You mean we will be stealing a car?”  Goddamnit.  What the fuck kinda thief doesn’t get the we’re going to have to steal a car for this gig?

“Yes,” I said to her.  “As in stealo un coche.”

“Shut the fuck up,” growled Carl.

“Dude,” started Evans, “we have to steal a car too?”

I turned toward him.  ”Well, yeah.  I mean, since we already made up our minds to do armed robbery, what’s a little grand theft auto?”

Everyone smiled except Evans.  “You’re pathetic.”

“That’s what people keep telling me.  Sides, it’s not like you’re any better.”

“Hey, CT?”

“Yes dear.”  I love doing that to Carl.  He just doesn’t seem to know what to do when you go all gay on him.

“Uh, something’s been bugging me since this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, why did you tell that kid that you were going to fuck his sister?”

“Oh, that’s simple,” I grinned. “Just ask any woman I’ve ever slept with.”

So that was pretty much it for the night.  Carl and Lisette left shortly thereafter, to go fuck I assume, and Evans decided he was tired.  I don’t know why, it was only one in the a.m.

To tell you the truth, I was getting tired myself, but I was reading The Long ARM of Gil Hamilton and was just getting to the good part of the first story where the organlegger has Gil tied up the the basement.

As such, I didn’t see her walk in.

“Wow, your goatee is getting long.”

“Well, that happens when-”

That’s when my heart stopped.  I had looked up into two of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen in my life.  They were gun-metal gray, but they weren’t cold.  No, these eyes sparkled warmly, especially when she smiled, and were attached to a face that was a pale, creamy white with just a hint of color along the cheek bones.

I remembered those eyes.

I’d loved those eyes.

“Why Mr. Beaudroux,” she said in a fake southern belle, “you seem to be at a loss for words.  I do declare, I’ve never thought I would live to see the day.”

A siren wailed.  The Observation Corps had deserted, the Bullshit Division melted down into a heap of slag, and the Sherlock Tract just kinda stood there stupidly, drool spilling out of it’s mouth.

But there were a few neurons still firing.

“No, I was just surprised to see you.”  Not my best comeback, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances.

“And why is that?”

“If I remember correctly you said that once you got out of, and this is a direct quote, ‘this shit hole of a town’ that you were never coming back.”

She sat down and reached for my pack of smokes.  “Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect, but I’m damn close.”  That made us both grin.  “I’m actually here visiting Donna.”

“Yeah?  How’s she doing?”

“Well, I just became a aunt again for the third time.”

I should have said something along the lines of, “That’s nice,” or “Congrats.”  Instead, of all of the parts of my brain to come back on-line first, it’s the Asshole.

“Well, it’s nice to see that she gets that stick out of her ass on occasion.  At least I assume that she takes it out when they fuck.  I don’t see her being that kinky.”

She stamped out her smoke.  Hard.  Then she started to get up.

“I knew this was a fucking mistake coming here.”

I jumped up (not easy to do in a corner booth), and grabbed her arm.  “Hey, no, Kat, wait.”

She turned toward me.  “Look,” I said, “Don’t…”

“What?”

“Don’t go.  I’d like to- to talk to you.”

She looked at me, those gray eyes staring expectantly.

“I’m sorry.”  It was almost a whisper.  Normally I’m not particularly apologetic.  Wait, scratch that.  I’m pretty much a non-apologetic bastard.  Not that I don’t apologize on occasion, but my general philosophy is pretty much, “Fuck you if you can’t take a joke.”

But this time I meant it, and not just for the crack about her sister.

“You obviously came here to see me and I’d like to hang out with you for a little while.  I can’t help it if I’m an asshole.”

“Yes you can, CT.  I’ve seen you be nice and charming when you want to be.”

“I’ll try.  It’s, uh, it’s been a while.”

We just stood there, her arm in my hand, and we just looked at each other.  I don’t know if she was just sizing me up or trying to decide if she should just say “Fuck it” and leave or what.  All I knew was that I didn’t want her to leave.

Someone cleared their throat.  I turned and found the waitress staring up at me, tray full of food in her hand.

“If y’all are done dancing, could you get out of the isle?”

“OK,” Kat said as I let go of her arm.

“So…” I said as we sat down.

“So, how have you been”  Great, said my Inner Monologue. Fucking small talk.

“OK, I suppose.”

“You still at EZ Mart?”

“Nah, I quit that shit a week ago.  What about you?  How’ve you been?  How’s Austin?”

“Austin’s great.  It’s very literal and there are no fucking Aggies.  And it’s got this great music scene.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, and…”

“And?”

“And I’ve met a guy.”  My heart sank.  “His name is Brent and he’s a pre-med.”

“That’s great,” I lied, faking a smile.

“Yeah, that’s uh, kinda why I wanted to see you.  I figured you’d be here, and I wanted-”

“I’m fine with it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s just, I know we didn’t part company on the best of terms-”

“No, really.  I’m fine.  I’m happy for you.”  

You are going to hell, offered the Monologue, that prick.  You are lying through your teeth.  You aren’t fine.  You couldn’t be.  Not that you have any right or anything, and it may have been 2 years, but you know damned good and wall that you can’t always have your mind and your heart agree all the time.

“He asked me to marry him.”

The floor dropped out of the world.  That was it.  What ever illusions I had about ever getting to be with Kat were gone.  Lost. Nada. Zilch.  My HP was at zero and there wasn’t a cleric in sight.

“Ow! Fuck!”  The cherry on my smoke burned down to my skin.  I’d apparently been sitting there with the cigarette between my fingers.

“You OK?”

“I told you I’m fine.  I’m glad you met someone that you want to marry.”

“I meant your fingers.”

“Oh.  yeah, they’re fine.”

“And I didn’t say I wanted to marry him.”

Attention!  Attention!  All sections!  Emergency!  All personnel to Battle Stations!  Operation Kitty Kat is now initiated!

Play it cool CT, play it cool.

“Oh, really?”  I hoped that sounded nonchalant.

“Yeah,” she said, kinda distracted. “I don’t know if I’m ready.  I mean, he’s stable, he has a future.  He’s focused on his schooling-”

“Basically everything I’m not.”  

Not cool, man. Not cool.

“Stop it CT.  You know-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.  I’ve been kinda distracted lately and I haven’t been thinking too clearly.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Say, you want some coffee or something?”

“No, I’ll never get to bed tonight.”

“How bout a Sprite?”

“Sure.”

“Hey Sherry?” I called to the waitress. “Could I get a refill, and a glass of Sprite.”

“Sure CT.”

“On a first name basis with the wait staff I see,” Kat commented.

“Yeah, well, when you basically live in this booth, you tend to get to know your neighbors.  Say, I never got a chance to talk to you at the funeral.  I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks.”

“Y’all got any buyers for the garage?”

“No, not yet.”

“That sucks.  I always liked working there.  There’s something about working with your hands, you know?  It’s like the act of creation, but on a small scale.”

“You’re not equating rebuilding a carburetor with having a child are you?”

“Well, not any more.”  That made her smile.  ”You know something? I miss your dad.  He was much more of a father to me than mine ever was.”

“You know that went two ways right?  He used to say you were the son he never had.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  He was disappointed when you quit.”

“Well, I needed a change.”

“You’re change isn’t much change, CT.  You work at a place till something pisses you off, then you think everything will be better if you find a new one.  Then the cycle starts all over again.  You change jobs, but you never get out of that pattern.  ”

She’s right you know. “You’ve been taking psych classes at UT haven’t you.”

“No. I just know you.”

We sat there for a bit, not saying anything, both of us smoking.

Kat was the one that finally broke the silence.

“So, how’s the rest of you’re little tribe?”

“OK, I suppose.  Evans is still Evans.  Carl’s found himself a new girl, but I think she’s going to be more of a problem than anything else..” If only I had trusted my instincts.  ”Wes has the girlfriend from hell, so we don’t get to see him much.  Gus just got discharged from the Army and is gonna be back in town tomorrow.  I’m sure that there is going to be a big shindig Saturday.  You’re welcome to come if you’re still in town.”

“Sure, but on one condition: No getting me drunk and taking advantage of me.”  She smiled.  This was a little game we used to play when we were younger.  We’d joke about her getting drunk and me taking advantage of her.  Course I never did.  I never could tell if she was joking or not.  I’m good at reading people, but I never could read her very well.

“Deal.  How can I get a hold of you.”

She grabbed my notebook and started writing.  “This is my cell number.  I’m staying at the apartment above the garage.”

“You’re not staying with Donna?”

She got up and headed toward the door.  ”Nope, the bitch would drive me crazy if I had to stay with her.”