The Fight, part 2

(Attention: This story contains profanity, violence, and graphic drug use, and is intended for mature readers only.)

(continued from yesterday’s post)

Friday, June 25, 1999 – 8:40 pm

There was a distraction at the other side of the room, but Cody barely acknowledged it. There were four college-aged boys; the macho, muscular type, yelling across the room at Cody, Huey, and Jamil. Huey and Jam had been trying hard to ignore it for several minutes, but Cody was only now becoming aware.

The boys were drinking cheap beer and bothering some of the bar’s other patrons when they noticed the three friends sitting in the far booth. The obvious leader—a tall, muscular blond wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and jean shorts—was pointing at Cody, Huey, and Jam and yelling “Hey Big Time!” in a mocking tone. Some girls were chattering on about how they thought the men in the far booth were celebrities, and wanted to get autographs, and the boys decided to impress the girls.

Led by the muscular blond, the four boys walked over to the table and demanded to know who the three men were.

“Hey! You guys big shots, or what?”

Huey looked as if he would be glad to jump into a brawl with these bozos, but Jam was not the fighting type, and Cody was in too fragile of a state to be bothered.

“Hey guys, not tonight, okay?” Huey tried to dismiss the boys.

“Aw, come on, big shots, you too important to talk to some regular guys?” The blond leader was clearly amusing himself, and his friends, but not Huey.

Jamil tried to be more diplomatic. “Look, you guys, we got private business here, and we’ll have to give you a rain check on…whatever it is you want.”

“What we want is to know who the fuck you guys are, and who the fuck you think you are thinking you’re so fucking big?”

“Look”, Huey was getting irate, but still tried to keep his cool, “We are just hanging out, trying to have a peaceful night. Go bother someone else.”

One of the other boys—another tall, muscular, blond with a baseball cap on backwards—figured it out. “Hey, it’s those Dutch Oven guys. Sacramento’s newest superstars.”

The muscular leader smiled a drunken, roguish smile, and decided to taunt them further.

“Oh, the famous rock stars. Those girls want your autographs, but how about you sign my dick instead? In fact, sign all our dicks, and those bitches can suck your names right off. That should make everybody’s night.”

Up to this point, Huey and Jamil were doing all the talking, trying to keep the peace, but Cody finally felt compelled to step into the conversation.

“Go back to your table, and fuck off”, Cody spoke calmly, and did not even turn to face the boy.

The blond leader zeroed in on Cody, apparently feeling as if his night was about to be made. “And what if I don’t want to fuck off? What the fuck are you going to do about it, Rock Star? You’re the big rock star, why don’t you sing something for us? Sing me a song, sign my dick, and then I’ll fuck off.” The four boys were howling with laughter as if this were the funniest thing they had ever seen.

Cody turned to meet his attacker head-on. Something in Cody’s eyes rattled the blond leader for a second, but he continued his taunts.

“Why are you three little faggots sitting all alone in a dark corner? You guys jerking each other off, or what?”

Huey stood up as if to punch the blond leader, but physically, he was no match for the larger boys; neither of them appeared to be. The blond leader pushed Huey back into his seat, and one of the other boys held Huey back, lest he should try to rise up again.

The blond leader ignored Huey. He had found his prey, and went back to taunting Cody.

“I asked you a question, Big Shot. Why are you little pussies jerking each other off in your own private corner of the bar?”

Cody had never felt that he needed a bodyguard. Even on tour, when fans can get aggressive, Cody felt that bodyguards and handlers only drew more attention to him, and so he eschewed them and chose to handle matters on his own. Before this night, he had never had an issue; certainly not in his own hometown, but he really wished that he had someone to remove this problem right now. The bartender had warned the boys to stop, and the boys ignored him, and continued their catcalls. The bartender even phoned the police, but the boys finally pushed Cody too far.

Cody rose suddenly. ”You want to see how much of a pussy I am, motherfucker? You want to see? Congratulations! You’re about to find out.”

The boys all cheered as the anticipation of a quick fight between their leader and this skinny celebrity pumped adrenaline into the night. Everybody headed outside. Huey grabbed for Cody’s arm to hold him back. “You don’t need to do this, man”, he pled, but Cody was already half-way across the room before Huey could finish the sentence. Jamil just laughed a knowing laugh, grabbed the tequila, and followed them all outside.

“You little bitch”, started the blond leader, “you have no fucking idea what you’re getting yourself into. And you know what? It’s too late to back out. Your ass is fucking dead!”

Cody just stood there staring at his attacker. It was too much. The last twenty-four hours had been too much for him. The haze of drugs; the fight with Lily; the realization that he may be in over his head with an addiction problem; and finally, a bunch of punks looking for a fight. It was too much. He came to the bar to meet with his friends and try to take the edge off the situation, but it had escalated further than he had ever imagined it could. All the cocaine and tequila he had in the bar, combined with the adrenaline surge from the impending fight brought a sudden focus to him.

He had come to the bar half-crazed, strung-out, and deeply saddened by the events at home. Now, he was faced with an idiot kid who looked as if he made a weekend habit of starting fights with smaller, weaker targets. Cody now faced a bully who had three equally muscular and testosterone-driven meatheads behind him to back him up. Cody knew this was never meant to be a fair fight, and so, he would not allow one. He knew that he was in no condition to allow one. Cody meant to give his attackers something to ponder for the rest of their bullying career.

Cody gazed into the eyes of his attacker. Then, he peeled-off his T-shirt, showing a thin, and stringy upper body. At six-foot two inches, Cody only weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds. The drugs had made him thinner than usual, but his Kung Fu training had kept him lean and strong. Even during the two years that Cody had used the hard drugs, he still continued his workouts and training.

Cody’s eyes never left the eyes of his attacker. He then kicked-off his shoes, and peeled-off his socks.

“What the fuck is this?” mocked the blond leader.

Cody then took off his pants and tossed them aside.

“What the fuck are you doing, faggot?” the blond leader cried out. Huey and Jam just giggled. The crowd was getting larger, and the bystanders were just as baffled as the attacker.

Finally, Cody stripped off his underwear, and stood naked before his attacker and the crowd surrounding him. Suddenly, cars driving by on “J” Street stopped to watch the spectacle. They had no idea who the naked man was, only that there was clearly going to be a fight between some nude lunatic and a very puzzled muscular boy.

“I’ll tell you what”, said Cody to the blond leader, “I’ll let you have the first punch. It’s free, just take it.”

The blond leader was flummoxed. All of his bravado was lost as soon as Cody stripped naked. He turned to his friends, who were just as puzzled; “What do I do? He’s fucking naked! I don’t want his shit touching me.”

Cody stepped forward and pushed his right cheek up close for his attacker. The blond leader, not knowing what else to do, summoned his earlier rage and charged Cody. His right fist smashed into Cody’s mouth, knocking Cody backwards and causing a spray of blood from Cody’s lips. The boys all whooped and cheered, mocking Cody, and pointing at Huey and Jam as if to suggest they were next.

Cody took a second to gather himself, and then smiled maniacally at the attacker, who, for the first time, realized that he might have made a mistake.

It took only about 15 seconds. In a flurry of movements, Cody punched, jabbed, and kicked his attacker in a series of moves he had practiced in Kung Fu training for years, but never used in any practical reality. Three swift punches to the face forced the blond leader to raise both hands for protection. Cody then gave two jabs to the kidneys, and a series of punches to the ribs, forcing his opponent to bend forward. He then gave two quick roundhouse kicks to his opponent’s hips and left leg, dropping him to one knee. It was Cody’s turn to taunt.

“Come on, little boy. You wanted to kick my ass, now get up, and kick my ass. You’re getting beaten down by a naked dude, you little fuck, now get the fuck up! NOW!”

“Hang on a second…”, the attacker groaned.

“No, now! You said my ass was dead tonight, now make me dead. Get up and kick my ass, motherfucker!” Cody was yelling like a lunatic, spraying blood and spit onto his attacker.

The regular Friday night brawl that the onlookers were hoping to witness had quickly become something darker and sickening. The three other boys, who would normally step into a situation like this, were frozen in awe of Cody’s assault.

The blond leader was stupid enough to stand up again. He charged at Cody, who then delivered two punches to the blond leader’s nose and jaw and a series of punches to the ribs and solar plexus.

All of the anger and frustration that Cody felt in the last twenty-four hours, and all of the fears and angst he had felt his entire life. All the years spent proving his worth to anyone he cared about, it all crescendoed in this one moment of time in an explosion of violence and hatred.

Cody finally decided to finish the blond leader off with an Inside Crescent and Tornado kick combination that broke the blond leader’s nose and jaw. Cody’s attacker crumpled to the ground unconscious.

One of the girls who had originally asked the boys to go get autographs vomited on the sidewalk.

Cody looked crazed at the three remaining boys as if to ask, who’s next? But before Cody could inflict any more damage, three police officers broke through the crowd and ordered Cody to stand down. The fight was over, but Cody was standing on the sidewalk on “J” Street, outside of NorCal’s Pub, naked, and pulsating with rage.

By the time Cody had come down from his adrenaline high and realized exactly what had happened, he was in handcuffs in the back of a police car charged with assault, battery, public nudity, public drunkenness, and two counts of narcotics possession. He also realized that his clothes were back on his body.

3 Comments

Filed under Blue Moon Baby - The Novel

3 responses to “The Fight, part 2

  1. Pingback: The Fight, part 1 | It's a Blog About Nothing

  2. Pingback: I Got Stuck… | It's a Blog About Nothing

  3. Pingback: After the Fight | It's a Blog About Nothing

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