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Drama: Really Little Bighorn |
Posted by
Dolorosa on Monday, June 30, 2003 - 09:04 AM PST
Theres a new bar in my town, and it's about damn time. Good music, fair drinks and a tolerable clientele. I ain't seen those kids I ran into last time there, though I met them again, and thats another story. It's a small place really...and most of the people there are salt of the earth types. A few farmers who speak little or no english, a couple indians looking to get drunk and forget their hurt for awhile, and a few others who are reaching out to the edges.
I went down there the other weak with one of my friends from the nearby rez, a kid named Mike Threebird, we get along pretty well, he's as much trouble as I am, though in a different manner...and the kid is BIG, and I mean huge. All muscle with an intent to use it. If it wasn't for his habit of wearing grateful dead t-shirts and ripped up jeans I could totally imagine him kicking Custer's ass all over the place, and even with 'em on, it isn't hard to picture him doin' it.
It was a good night, some heavy beats going on, and there were a few other folks from the rez there, spending money made off gambling tourists like mad. There were also your general assortment of redneck locals and really weird folk who live up in the hills. What caught my eye though was the two little goths hiding in the corner.
You know me, I'm trouble...and I like confrontation, I like hunting down and hurtin' things I don't like. I'm not ashamed to admit it. So I decided to see if there was some hunting to be had. Now, I was dressed "conservatively fringe" jeans, black t-shirt and my spikes on, I guess you could say I was "lazy punk" for the night. Well, I told Mike to hold the fort for me, made a crack about firewater...and headed on over to talk 'em up a bit and see if I couldn't find something I didn't like. I've been stuck in this town too long, like a lot of people...and it can turn you mean, that night I was looking for a fight, something to chase the ennui away a bit.
Well fuck me if I couldn't find it in these two. I'll call 'em Dark and Shadow...which aren't there names, but were close enough to what they gave me. They were nervous when I introduced myself, and bought 'em a round. Very quiet. I brok the ice with a couple jokes and tried some baiting around the lines of the metaphysical BS...they didn't bite. The boy was skinny, dyed hair and hollow, sad eyes. The girl...the girl was pretty, but she was looking for something, something she couldn't find here, that much was apparent.
We got to talking, and before long, I started liking them. Dark boy had a good head on his shoulders, and he didn't claim to know anything he didn't. That may not sound like much, but when I pushed the question about hermeticism and magic, he told me straight out his opinions were only just that...he didn't know anything for sure, and he had his hopes and ideas, but thats just what they were. I was even struck when he said that the fact that he didn't have any concrete knowledge was what made his dreams and ideas that much more important to him. I can respect that.
Shadow Girl was a hoot once she got out of her shell a bit. She fancied herself a poet and writer, and read me some of her stuff off of memory, even did a bit of impromptu stuff on me. She had dreams that were wild things. Where the boy was conservative and careful about his ideals, she spoke with a delightful faith and a gleam in her eyes. She wasn't a coyote-killer, or a blood druid...and when I asked her if she was a vampire, she laughed and said "Of course not...but I'd certainly like to meet one, just to satisfy my curiosity of course." It was one of the first really pleasant conversations I'd had on the whole matter in a hell of a long time, these kids were awesome. I say kids lightly, they were both younger than me...and I mean no disrespect saying that, I call someone a kid when I see something in them that I like, and I sense youthfulness. I don't go calling my elders that anyhow.
Hours passed and we just talked the night away, they got up to dance and I went over to chat with Mike, who was well on his way to Rain Dancing on the counter tops and gave him the thumbs up on the kids. He laughed, belched, said something I didn't understand and then went back to drinking.
It was great. Of course it didn't last. I wouldn't tell a story if it were all flowers and faeries.
It was around midnight when a big ol' cowboy came up, drunk of his ass with a few buddies behind him and started talking shit to Dark boy. The kid just collapsed in on himself, wouldn't say a damn thing. Apparently he knew this cowboy from highschool or something. He wasn't any older than me, but a damn sight bigger. At first it was basic belligerent, harmless drunk talk. But when he saw Dark boy wasn't going to fight back...of course he got a bit more derisive. He started slurring out insults like a special olympics champ, "Faggotsh" was the one I recognized, though I could have sworn he said something to the tune of "Gay Queer" but it was really hard to tell. Dark boy just sat there and didn't look him in the eyes. Shadow girl held his hand under the table and it looked like she was either getting really pissed or about to cry. By this time I had decided that I had been previously looking for a fight...and well shit, here was a great one dropped in my lap right there.
I stood up, finished my drink and murmured "excuse me" to the cowboy and promptly stepped to the side. He didn't pay me any mind and actually stood in the place where my chair had been so he could get in real close. Shadow girl gave me the most mournful and heartbreaking look I've seen in a long time, she thought I was leaving. Bullshit I was.
The second I had his back, I brought my beer bottle over the back of his head and laid him out on the table. It was great...he hits the thing, face first and swear he lost a couple of teeth. To make sure of this, I started stomping on the back of his head with my steel-toes. I got a good three or four kicks in there until his buddies jumped me and proceeded to beat me to a bloody, amazingly sexy pulp. I went down biting, screaming and punching at everything and anything, it was great...but shit, I was beat.
But let me tell you...there is no sound more thrilling, more spine-tingling, more wet-your-pants-and-cry-for-mommy, than the full throated scream of a pissed off, drunken indian.
From what I could see under the press of bodies, Mike Threebird had climbed up onto the bar and fucking head-dived those cowboys. He felt no pain, and fought like man-mountain possessed, it was beautiful. He started wailing on them, his nose was broken right off the bat...but it just made him more pissed off. I wriggled out and started with my fighting, grabbin' yellin and smashing things, and then all hell and high water broke loose.
There were a lot of indians in that bar. And when they saw Mike Threebird cry war and jump in, they fucking jumped in too. It was Little Bighorn all over again. For a second there, I had been severely outnumbered...and now, it was a two to one fight against those redneck yucks. tables were breaking, bottles were smashed, blood and hell all over the god damned place. I was laughing so hard I almost pissed myself...seriously, now that would have sucked. As it was, we managed to get out of there just as the police showed up...and we stumbled off broken and bloodied but laughing like maniacs. Dark boy kept me from slumping to the ground and Shadow girl did her best to keep Mike Threebird from finding solace in the gutter. They got us back to our cars and just watched as we laughed our asses off.
When talking finally came around, Dark boy thanked us...but he was real careful about it, he wasn't sure what had gone on. Shadow girl was little ms. perky-goth about it. But when they finally asked why I had started that crap, I told him straight out, "When a fight comes to you, sometimes you have to throw the first punch and get things rolling...never back down, never back away." He nodded, then sighed and said, "So you're saying, when a bunch of assholes comes down on you to pick a fight and get mauled?" I grinned and then pointed to Mike, "Yeah...sure enough, but it helps to have Geronimo at your back innit?" Dark boy laughed and then told us, he appreciated the help, a lot...but sooner or later those boys would catch up to him alone. Mike just slurred out, "Aint alone shon...Jusht hang around were n' injun can shee ya...we'll come runnin'. You cool with ush." And passed out.
After that, they headed home...and when Mike woke up, we drove back home ourselves, which was an adventure in and of itself.
As it is...I hate this town something fierce, but believe it or not, I actually found some decent people here. And a decent fight too, which totally rocks.
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Average Rating : 2.8
Total ratings : 4
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Really Little Bighorn | Login/Create an account | 8 Comments |
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Re: Really Little Bighorn
by Ironboots on Jun 30, 2003 - 10:27 AM
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Man, Dolo... Looks like your having fun...
What town are you in? I thought you were in San Diego, but this one seems too much of a small town to be it...
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Re: Really Little Bighorn
by PoeticChaos on Jul 08, 2003 - 01:38 PM
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LOL! I would have loved to have seen that, and knowing me and my temper, probably would have jumped in. We need a fight like that to break out at the place I hang out, we haven't had a good one in about a week, and that's a long time for that place. Anyway, thanks for the laugh and hope you healed up, with no permanent damage.
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Re: Really Little Bighorn
by Psychopixi (psyche-at-psychopixi-dot-com)
on Jul 08, 2003 - 02:25 PM
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*smiles* At least you had fun! I bet that the red-neck idiots are going to think twice about picking on the goths now they know they have blood-lusty friends. Seriously though, good for you. People say violence doesn't solve anything but talking to those people sure as hell gets you nowhere. Some of the people round here need to be a little less chicken, myself included, when it comes to dealing with aggro. Wow, does that make you a role model?
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Re: Really Little Bighorn
by Domkitten (saradevil@saradevil.com)
on Jul 09, 2003 - 09:53 PM
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The pacifist in me finds it difficult to condone violence, but then I look at Dolorosa an realize that he is actually a misplaced God of War.
Dolorosa comes from some ancient tribe of Gods long forgotten who got buried in a black night of catholic rituals and crusadist claptrap. His dying fathers father perhaps some ancient druid last of a long line of mystics, emblazoned his spirit with a need for war and revenage against the stupid, backward, and mistakenly savage.
Cudos, D.
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Re: Really Little Bighorn
by RavensSoul (TheRavensMuse@aol.com)
on Jul 14, 2003 - 12:02 AM
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Wow, Sounds kind of like where I'm from with the drunken hick assholes picking on the small little goth kids... or sometimes its the stupid hick assholes hitting on the goths * my bad experience with a boy named Earl.... * Either way, sounds like a fun night, woulda been cool to be watching.... or jumping in and throwing a few punches or glass bottles.
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