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Below is the result of your feedback form. It was submitted by dkchriss666@sbcglobal.net on Tuesday, December 30, 2003 at 10:11:17

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name: D. Kendal

company: DKC's

street: 10127 Hanka Dr.

city: Houston Texas, 77043

phone: 713-464-4070

where: A note found on a half dead monkey.

 

comment: Militias and Madmen: Alive and Well in Texas

I recently made a weekend trip to the "Orion" compound located just north of beautiful sun bleached San Saba Texas to spend some time with and get to know an extremist group called "The frontiersmen". San Saba is like a scene from one of those shitty westerns where anything and everything capable of stinging, biting, scratching, gouging, and all in all making you fucking miserable can be found. But of course the most dangerous creatures around were "The Frontiersmen", a group of seventy-six (at last count) heavily

armed lunatics drunk on home brew and raging from a daily diet of bathtub crystal-meth and nightly hate sessions savagely assaulting what America has become. I arrived late on a Friday afternoon after having been run out of a local tavern by a man with green teeth yelling and waving a twelve-gauge shotgun around accusing me of being 'one of them" whoever the hell "them" happens to be. When I finally found the entrance to the frontiersman's compound I was met at a large steel gate by two of Orion's finest, Burl and Earl (no shit) who wore military fatigues and had a jeep with a gun mounted on it's rear. They spent fifteen minutes searching my car for contraband, i.e. wire tapping

equipment, cameras (no photos allowed), girly magazines (no women allowed), or any religious items that had to do with anything but Christianity. They did manage to find a small onyx Buddha that had somehow found it's way into my glove box and confiscated it after

I convinced them that I didn't have a clue where that little blasphemes statue came from. (Rebecca, a friend and devout Buddhist,

but that's another story). I was given the go ahead and the boys radioed ahead to Lex, king of the Frontiersman, that I was on my

way. I followed a rutty dirt path for about a mile before finally coming u!

pon the main camp. It was a collection of small cabins surrounding a large pit that I later found out was used for their nightly

hate rituals. Lex was standing in the middle of the road wearing his fatigues and holding an AK47, and he had the fucking thing

pointed at me! He was about fifty with gray hair and a huge mustache, his skin was like tanned leather, no doubt from so much time in the wretched sun baked land that he and his followers call home. I stopped the car about five feet from where he was standing but when I saw the gun pointed at me I had the urge to run the fucker down then back up over him a few times, just for good measure. He ordered me out of the car and made me spread eagle on the hot clay road, then one of his cronies (Spam) gave me a quick pat down undoubtedly looking for weapons. The all clear was given to Lex and he relaxed his stance, came up to me smiling and said without trepidation "fuck with me and ill bury your ass out here", then we shook hand!

s. "Great" I thought, I'm not going to get out of this place alive unless I become one of them for the weekend, not an easy task for me. He led me to a group of picnic tables that the boys used for a communal eating area and had Spam fetch us a bottle of homebrewed

liquor, then he immediately began to spill his story. Lex was at one time a preacher, an insurance salesman, a carpenter, and many

other things before having "seen the light" as he said. "Those fuckers in Washington have given this country away to the Jews and

the Mexicans" he said drinking straight out of the bottle and then passing it to me. "What about the Ukrainians, how do you feel

about them?" I said joking and took a big drink. Lex did not think that was funny. "Corn liquor" he said without any fluff and

grabbed the bottle from my hand and sucked about a third of it down. "We make it here along with crank to sell to those dumb-fuck

hippies and sadists. What do we care if they kill each other, let them lose !

their souls" he grinned and took another long drink, damn near finishing the bottle. By this time a few dozen of the tribe had heard

I was there and wanted to see this city boy that was so interested in their story. Most had on fatigues but a few had on overalls,

and they were all carrying weapons of assorted shapes and sizes and looking at me with total disdain. I was wondering what they

would do if I just blurted out something like "I'm here in the name of Allah". Hell, I laughed a bit when I thought it knowing if I

was to say some shit like that out loud I would not live to see nightfall. Most of them were intrigued, but they could do nothing

but stand and watch until Lex gave his permission for them to speak. He was king, no doubt, and the others let him rule. Everything

was by decree, even the passing out of liquor. Fortunately I came prepared with my own brand of excess, less one bottle and two cans

that I noticed were missing after my search by Burl and Earl. After th!

e initial meeting and a few rounds of harsh drink I was led to a tent with four cots, one was to be mine for the weekend. I was

allowed to rest for an hour after being told that there was one rule I must follow-I don't go anywhere without an escort. "You'll be

shot on sight" was the phrase one of the boys said before spitting a glob of tobacco on the ground in front of me. Well, fuck that.

As far as I was concerned I was going to have an escort every time I left the tent even to take a shit. About seven PM there was a

volley of three loud shots in quick succession that scared the hell out of me, but a guy named Travis was in the tent with me and

said "dinner", and walked out without even looking my way. I was imagining the worst as far as cuisine-roasted wild pignuts, gruel,

more severe hooch and a handful of shit for dessert. I was wrong. These boys may be in the outback but whoever was cooking was a

fine chef in my opinion. We had some terrific venison, a green-bean salad !

(no shit, with capers!), large baked sweet potatoes and a beautiful apple pie for dessert. I was impressed. (Of course I was sitting

at Lex's table and first thought it was just for us but then I noticed everyone was eating roughly the same thing) After dinner the

bottles of home-brew were put on the table and a small group that included Lex and Spam started gathering on a platform with a heavy

wooden podium set up for a speaker. Then it got quit after Lex fired of a few rounds from his AK47 and glared at his captive

audience. "We will no longer stand and watch our country be taken over by the leftist communist bastards that enslave their own

people! We will fight, and we will kill if necessary!" A hearty applause and a few random shots were fired into the air. I sat as

quit and discreet as possible in the rear as more hate spewed from Lex. "And these Jews, Mexicans, sand-niggers, and the rest of the

clowns that think they can use America as a punching bag will know what fea!

r tastes like". More random shots and a lot of yelling, then bottles passed around for toasts. I was already tiring of the place and

I hadn't even been there five hours, these guys weren't evil, they were plain fucking crazies! After a twenty-minute tirade by Lex,

it was Spam's turn to fire-up the crowd. Same shit from him, loud rhetoric followed by a strategic silence for these words of power

to sink in. I wasn't really interested in their statements of hate though, I had heard all of this bullshit before. What I really

wanted was to find out about the common foot soldier and how they ended up in such a place following a retard like Lex. These fools

were flirting with the kind of disaster that can get you killed or sent to a maximum-security prison where you'd be known as "Big

Earnie's Girl". I managed to slip away to my cot to do some writing and drink a decent scotch while the hate session continued into

the wee hours. I'm not sure what time they finished, if they ever re!

ally finish, but it was quit when I woke up at 2AM to take a piss. This posed it's own problem. Remembering the lethal warning about

escorts, I decided to just hang it out by the tent and forget about finding the latrine. The next morning at eight sharp there was a

loud bang, like a cannon shot, that woke me and the other two guys in the tent up. "Breakfast in fifteen minutes. Showers by the

Library" said Travis before releasing the loudest fart I'd ever heard. That was reason enough to get the hell out of the tent and

find the shower. It was a nice cool morning with a little fog hanging in the air, but it was sure to get Texas hot by midday. I

found the shower and rinsed off quick before any of the other's came in. (no women allowed, must be something else going on)

Breakfast was eggs and toast, nothing fancy, and strong black coffee with a shot of liquor. (I used the scotch I brought) One of the

men turned to me and said, "You're going with me and Deek today, so pay attent!

ion and stay the fuck out of the way". He said this with a smile, but not a friendly smile. After eating I grabbed my pens and

notebook, my boots, some smokes and a six-pack of luke-warm Bud and put it in my backpack. No use spending the day in the heat

without a few beers even if they're warm. Jerry and Deek had fire practice and perimeter duty so they were given a jeep, sans

30-caliber, and each had an automatic rifle. On the way out to the range Deek explained to me that he had been a marine and had seen

how other countries treated America and it's ideals with disdain (not Deek's word, mine) "It just ain't right. Us protecting them

and all and getting shit on while we loose good men in their country". Good point Deek. Jerry on the other hand was in prison for

sixteen years of his forty-two year run on the planet. "Drugs mostly" he said and I began to suspect he was the "chemist" in charge

of the bathtub crank operation. We drove for a few miles passing by a small trailer !

that had the distinct smell of ether and other chemicals, probably the "industrial complex" of the Orion compound. We drove up to a

lake about fifty to seventy-five acres in area and parked near the water. There were a lot of shell casings surrounding a bench with

a small plastic covering for shade and about a hundred yards down the lake-side was a group of targets in the shape of men. Jerry

and Deek pulled a box from the back of the jeep and started to unload various weapons out onto the table while I stood back and

cracked open a beer. They both looked at me like they'd like to set my ass down near the targets for some live action practice. "You

shoot Captain?" asked Deek. I hadn't told them a thing about myself but I guess someone in their fraternity of madness had some

sense to check me out before they let me in. "You bet" I said and slipped on my Ray-Bans to block the sun that was getting brighter

by the second. "Then you know how to handle one of these" he said and pul!

led an m-16 with an m-70 grenade launcher out of the box. I had to smile at that. If for no other reason that I was here it was to

shoot some weapons, powerful deadly weapons. So I picked the weapon up and grabbed a clip, shoved it in and pulled back the bolt and

fired off a half-dozen rounds towards the targets hitting one mid-section. "Good shooting. Now how about one of these" asked Deek

pulling out a shell for the 70. "Hell yes!" I said and loaded the shell, then looked for a target more fitting for such ordinance.

"Try hitting that old stove over to the right" said Jerry pointing to an old gas stove with bullet holes all over it. I smiled

thinking "man, this is great". I pulled the trigger and the shell smoothly flew out of the chamber and hit about three feet in front

of the stove. "Been awhile" I said and handed the weapon back to Deek. "Not bad for a city boy Captain". So for the next hour we

shot the m-16 with an occasional round from the seventy (I did finally hit !

the stove and tore the fucker up) and as they were packing up I made the mistake of asking how they got their hands on such weapons.

"Never mind. And if I read anything about it anywhere, you are a dead fucker, understand?" You bet I did. The rest of the morning

was spent in the jeep checking the fence along the perimeter and taking pot shots at rabbits and squirrels. By lunch we were back at

the lake and met up with Lex and Spam and some big fucking guy named Lurch (he looked just like that guy from the Addam's family TV

shows). Lurch didn't speak much but when he did it was loud and with a deep resonant voice. Lurch was their explosive guy, he was in

charge of all the big booms. Today was a C-4 demonstration coinciding with the weekly fishing expedition, in other words Lurch was

going to blow the shit out of some fish. So Lurch, Spam, Deek, and Jerry loaded into a small boat with a pouch about the size of a

small cooler and headed out onto the lake leaving me behind. I sat!

at the bench drinking a beer and having a smoke while pondering the thought "what if these maniacs got nervous about me being a

witness? Would they hesitate to bury me out here somewhere? I don't think they would hesitate for a second." Damn I wish I'd brought

a big joint to calm the nerves. They got to the middle of the lake in short time and hung out there for a few minutes, then I heard

the motor take off full throttle back towards the shore. Then the motor quit and they sat there watching the middle of the lake.

About two minutes later a huge explosion ripped through the air hurling thousands of gallons of water and hundreds of fish at least

a hundred feet straight up, then the water came crashing back down to the lake creating a tremendous wake. The Wild Boys in the boat

cheered and waved back at me while passing around a bottle of their home brew. "Jesus" I said out loud, "What the fuck have I gotten

myself into here?" I was floored. Right here in the middle of Texas !

is this group of heavily armed racist rednecks with the know-how to produce massive destruction. My only hope was they'd never

acquire a fully working brain between them to actually concoct and execute any sort of real plan, but you never know. Soon after a

group of four Frontiersmen showed up in a jeep pulling a large flat-bottomed boat and set out to retrieve the fish that were

starting to pile up on shore and the surface of the lake. I sat for over an hour while they gathered up the day's catch, maybe three

hundred Bass, Crappie, and a few other kinds of fish I didn't recognize, some snakes, and some poor fucking mammal of some kind that

was ripped to shit by the blast. They filled the flat bottom boat to the brim and hitched back up to the jeep and headed back to

camp with at least a few days worth of fish. Un-fucking-believable! I wondered how many times they could do this without killing

everything in the lake, but I didn't ask out of fear for my life. I rode with Deek!

and Lex back to camp where a huge fish-gutting spectacle was under way, all cuts into fillets and the rest thrown in the pit for

burning later in the evening. We were sure to have fish this night. I went back to the tent to change clothes and get out of my

boots, grab a bottle of scotch and set myself down to jot down some notes. An hour or so later Lex came walking into the tent with a

big smile on his rutty face wondering if I was up to a boxing match, in a ring, with one of the Wild Boys. "Not Lurch I hope" I said

swigging down a big drink of scotch. "Naw, His name's Terry. He's a little bigger than you but it's all in fun" said Lex coughing up

a hocker and spitting it out the tent flap. "And besides, the boys will respect you for it" Then he nodded his head to Travis who

was sharpening his knife and walked out. As he left he said "twenty minutes, we'll do it before dinner". Great. I don't really want

the respect of these crazies but I'm bound by man honor to go ahead a!

nd box. And hell, I can always take a fall if it gets to weird. So while I'm putting on my shorts and sneakers, Travis grins and

says, "Don't worry Captain. Just get him pissed off and he'll be easy to beat. He has a bad temper but it unbalances him. Hell, I'll

help you." He sticks the knife into the table and walks out the tent chuckling. "Oh shit. This is bound to get ugly" I said to

nobody. I was on my own here. I couldn't back down or I wouldn't get another word out of them. It was nut cutting time, my nuts, and

their knife. So I convince myself it's all in fun and step outside to find that most of the camp was surrounding a ring that had

been thrown up while I was in the tent. Two big fuckers were already at it, pounding the shit out of each other with some pretty

hefty blows. Both men were bloody but neither was willing to toss in the towel. Shit, just for fun, right. I should have known

better, hell, I should have gone into another line of work, but what the fuck. Lex!

sees me coming and grins big. He takes a rifle from Spam and fires two quick rounds in the air and declares the fight a draw. "Men!

Silence men!" We have our next contestant!" The two bloody pulps stop beating the shit out of one another and calmly leave the ring,

then the crowd separates to let me walk up and enter. The boys are laughing and passing around liquor and a few wishes me luck with

an evil look on their faces. It's like some crazy "Escape From New York" scene where Kirt Russell smacks this big bald fucker in the

head with a nail on a board while a crowd of greasy gutter-trash eggs him on. I'm certain I'm not Kirt Russell in this scene. As I

go under the ropes and stand in the corner, Travis comes up with a bottle of home brew and says "No problem Captain. I got him so

pissed at you he's un-hinged. He'll be easy pickings if you catch him just right". Then he laughed and took a drink and slapped me

hard on the back. "What the fuck did you say to him" I asked looki!

ng for Terry who I still hadn't seen yet. "Don't worry Captain. I told him you said he was a pussy white-trash punk with a dick like

a Vienna Sausage". He laughed again and said, "here he comes". "Holy fuck" I said trying to flee the ring for the safety of my car.

This guy Terry is about my height all right but he's got at least thirty more pounds on him, all bulging and slick with oil or

something, and he's got rage in his eyes-for me! "You ass-hole! You guys set me up to be slaughtered!" I said to Travis as he kept

me from leaping over the ropes. "Nonsense Captain. You'll do fine!" Fucker. Travis won't get away with this shit. I swear it on my

Glenfiddich! Terry enters the ring huffing and puffing like a mad bull ready to kill whatever obstacle stands in his way. I'm that

obstacle. Lex fires another round in the air and one of the boys' steps up to me and slides a pair of black boxing gloves over my

trembling hands. Terry has on white boxing gloves with what appears to be !

fresh blood on them. Man, I'm dead meat! It was all a blur after Lex fired the "all go" shot that substituted for a ringside bell. I

came out quick, a split second of brilliant light surrounded me before I realized that I'd been hit, fucking hit hard, right square

in the face by a lethal right jab. "Jesus!" I tried to yell but nothing but spittle and blood flowed from my mouth. I heard laughter

and yells of " get up Captain, you've got him right where you want him!" Fucking Travis, drunk as shit and enjoying his little

prank, laughing like a jackal. No more fucking around with Terry, it was do or die time. I faked two lefts as Terry causally yawned

and ducked back easily. Then a triple shot-right fake to the head, left jab which was blocked, then a solid right-hand blow right

below his sternum in the diaphragm. Terry fell back about two feet trying to catch his breath. This is where I should have whaled on

him, while he was off guard. But I just didn't react fast enough befo!

re he recovered. He was a bit surprised at the hit, that's when he realized that I wasn't going to just stand there and bleed for

his fucking amusement. I was pissed, but I still wasn't going to win this thing and we both knew it. He stood straight up and walked

slowly towards me with a smile on his face and that was it. He faked a left and that's about all I remember. (Except that he hit me

so hard with a right blow to the jaw that two weeks later I still have a knot on my chin that may never go away) Not out cold but on

the mat and suffering, that was it, game over. I was hauled out of the ring by God knows who, but when I became aware of my

surroundings I was on one of the picnic tables with an iced-down bloody towel over my face, my skull feeling shattered and throbbing

like a bad hangover. I did gain respect from my immediate peers though. Nobody had ever had the chance to put any real pain on Terry

(I'm not sure the blow I gave him was that painful, but it did knock th!

e big fucker back two feet and surprised the hell out of him) and they damn sure hadn't stood in his face afterwards saying stupid

shit like "come on pig-nuts!" What a dumb fucking thing to do to myself, I'll never go in a ring again. So that was it for me, I

was spent and ready for strong drink. I couldn't get the cheap, shitty liquor down fast enough which just goes to show you that

quality liquor is subjective. I spent the rest of the night getting drunk and excepting congratulations from the boys for not

getting killed, all in all a good nights entertainment. (I recommend it if you believe you're one of the Wild Boys). I finally got

to bed around 2AM, actually I was put to bed by Spam and Terry (Terry apologized the rest of that evening for knocking me out, which

in reality he did do) The last words I heard were "Way to go Captain" and then a deep, resonant laugh from Big Terry. Sunday-Woke up

with the worst fucking headache I've ever had, that and a large bruise on my !

side that I can't remember where it came from. Travis is up and sharpening his knife again, he's either compulsive as hell or he's

cutting shit up all day long. Look in the mirror, not too bad, swollen jaw but not much, a little dried blood on my chin, and

puffiness around my left ear probably from hitting the canvas. All in all it could have been worse. I head out to shower before the

rest of the boys get up and going bringing my bottle of scotch with me. I can smell the breakfast being cooked and get some strong

black coffee to mix with the scotch. Hot water in the shower this morning and a quarter of a bottle under my belt. Not much pain

except my ribs where the big bruise is. "Nice fight last night Captain, how you feeling?" It was Spam cleaning a rifle and oiling

the fucker down. He's smiling, must have got a kick out of the city-boy supine on the canvas. "Shit, I'm alright" I said filling my

cup with scotch and splashing a little coffee in it for color. "But I'll bet T!

erry's in awful shape right?" Spam laughs and shakes his head, then says "He felt really bad about knocking you out you know. He's a

brute but he's really a sweet guy." Sweet guys my ass I thought. You bet, a camp full of sweet guys (that's why I showered alone).

"Feel like eating Captain?" asked Spam motioning to one of the guys near the cook's shack. "Yes, I'll need the energy in case

there's wrestling later." He smiled and waved over two meals of eggs, venison, and toast. "So what's up for today?" I asked wolfing

down the food before I was to drunk to eat. "Jury duty. We had a theft problem last week and today we take care of it our way." We

smiled and slowly ate his breakfast. Now Spam didn't look like much-short crew-cut hair, mustache, skin like flaky baked fish and

only around 130 lbs. But for some reason he held the second spot behind Lex. "So how'd you get to be second in command here?" I

asked sliding my empty plate away and pouring another big scotch. He thought f!

or a minute before answering (or he was fucked up on something, hard to tell with Spam). "Twelve years in the Army Rangers, half in

the Brig for Manslaughter." He said and let out a big burp. I was going to ask about the little matter of manslaughter when Lex came

up with a plate of food and had a seat beside me. "Hey captain, how's the head today? You look alright." He smiled and tore into his

venison. "Just fucking fine Lex. But it's fair to say I've been medicating myself for about an hour now so I'm feeling very little

pain." I smiled, lump and all, and took a long drink from my mug. "And what's this I here about a theft problem?" I asked offering

them some scotch, which they both declined. Lex looked at Spam and winked before saying "A little problem with our crank coming up

short. Jerry keeps tight measurements and weights on everything that comes in and goes out and we've been coming up shy for several

weeks now. But we know who it is and you'll get to see our judicia!

l system at work." (I figured it was Jerry in charge of their chemical business) I let Lex finish eating before asking more

questions. "So when does this trial happen?" I asked Lex, starting to feel a little pain in my side. But it was Spam who answered

"Four PM. All our trials are on Sunday afternoon, Day of Atonement." He smiled and got up, taking my plate and his back to the

cook's tent where the dishwashing was done. "Day of Atonement" I thought. These fuckers were serious about their religious beliefs

in a sick and twisted kind of fun way. I was planning on leaving around 3PM to get back to Houston by early nightfall when Leone's

Icehouse was having it's weekly Naked Women Pudding Wrestling Extravaganza but was definitely tempted to stay for the trail. (Of

course I was going to stay, Leone's was weekly and how many chances would I get to see a trail by the Lunatic Fringe? This was

definitely something special.) After breakfast and a few more shots of scotch I was asked!

if I wanted to go hunting with Deek and Jerry. "Hunting for what?" I asked trying to find my keys so I could grab a six-pack for

the trip. "Whatever they find. They just wanted to know if you were interested in going" said Lex as he called one of the boys to

take his plate to be washed. "Anyway, the rest of us are running some maneuvers today and you can't go with us." He said smiling.

Then another one of the boys I hadn't seen before brought Lex a list of weapons that he didn't want me to see. He looked them over

and nodded his approval before handing the list back. "What about this RPG business you mentioned? I'd like to fire one of those

fuckers." I asked halfway hoping he'd agree. Lex grabbed my forearm tight and sneered in my face "Boy, forget you ever heard such

thing if you know what's good for you." Shit, if I knew what was good for me I'd be leaving at three for Leon's. "Relax man, I never

heard a thing" I said feeling pain shoot up my arm and straight to my neck.!

He held his eyes on me for what seemed like forever before snapping out of it and laughing, then he said "Best go hunting Captain,

it's safer." Then he got up and went to his cabin, barking orders to everybody around him. Crazy fucker, I should have run his ass

over hen I had the chance. I went to my car and grabbed a six-pack of Rolling Rock that was still cold in the melted ice of my

cooler and sat back down at the table and waited for Deek and Jerry. Deek came screaming up about ten minutes later in a jeep,

sliding the fucker to a stop a few feet from my table. He was smiling a shit-eating grin and motioning me to get in. "Ready

captain?" he asked. I started to get in and he hit the gas and throwing rocks and dirt into a nice little rooster tale before my ass

even hit the seat. "Where's Jerry?" I asked offering him a beer. "He's already out waiting for us" he smiled and tore the cap off

with his remaining teeth. We drove for about twenty minutes heading past the lake and!

into some rugged hills, then turned into a basin where Jerry was sitting at a small bench cleaning a weapon. Deek brought the jeep

to a screeching halt, sliding sideways and coming so close to Jerry's legs he had to move them quickly or risk getting them crushed.

"So Captain, how's the head this morning?" asked Jerry without looking up from his rifle. "Just fucking great." I said and gladly

climbed out of the jeep, my beer foaming like mad from the ride. "So, do you hunt Captain?" asked Jerry giving me a grin. "Nope,

never have hunted animals Jer and I'm not going to start now." I said taking a seat and cracking open another beer. It was nearing

9AM and the morning fog was already burning off. "What are you guys hunting for?" I asked knowing it wasn't deer they were after.

"Whatever" said Deek unloading two shotguns and a nice Weatherby Mark V Super Big game Master rifle. The Weatherby was a beautiful

weapon that fired a 300 magnum round, a lot of gun that packed a hell of !

a lot of power. "That's a beauty Deek. Mind if I take a few shots?" I asked hoping he'd say yes. "No problem Captain." He said and

handed me the rifle and four rounds. The 300 mag. Held three rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber, which I loaded quickly.

"Where's a good target?" I asked not wanting to shoot in the direction of anybody or anything valuable. Jerry pointed to a large oak

tree about two hundred and fifty yards away that had a few plastic two-quart bottles filled with water hanging from a couple of the

branches. "Take a shot at the one farthest left" he said and let me have the sandbag that was sitting on the bench. I took aim and

fired the first round hitting the branch that the bottle was tied to. I loaded another shell and adjusted the sight and fired

another round. The bottle burst open blowing the water that was inside into a mist and pulverizing the plastic. "Good shot" said

Deek pointing to a tree about a hundred yards past the one with the bottles!

. "Now look through the scope and see if you can hit that gallon jug on the next tree past that one" I adjusted the scope a bit and

found the gallon jug set up in-between a fork in the tree. "Shit, that's way out there." I said and took the next shot. I didn't see

if the shell went to the left or to the right or where it went. There was one more shell in the magazine so I guessed at the

adjustment and took my final shot. I hit the branch about 6 inches below the gallon jug just slightly vibrating the water that was

inside of it. "Oh well" I said and handed the rifle back to Deek. "Nice shot though" said Deek reloading the rifle, "If that had

been a man, he'd be dead." He smiled and sat the rifle on a towel on the bench. That's how these boys think. He could have said "if

that was a deer…" but these guys think in terms of killing people not animals. After 30 minutes or so Jerry and Deek had loaded and

readied the guns and asked me if I wanted to use one "for squirrels and suc!

h". I declined, which didn't bother them, and since I wasn't willing to kill anything but water jugs I decided to stay behind while

they went out on foot. "You sure Captain? We'll be gone at least two hours?" asked Jerry slinging the Weatherby over his shoulder.

"Yes, I'm sure." I said, "I'm going to do some writing so go ahead." I pulled out my backpack and took out my beer, notebooks, a few

pencils and a small flask filled with scotch. (The flask was a gift from the girl who left the Buddha in my car. Funny thing about

religion, people treat it like chicken-eat the white meat and throw the wings to the dogs. But that's another story) So I sat and

wrote in my notebook for awhile, singing Bob Dylan songs off key (if that's possible) and enjoying the warm Texas morning. Every now

and again I'd here the report of a shotgun or the Weatherby and I'd have to laugh. I'd misjudged these guys a bit, they weren't any

crazier than I was, they just expressed their madness in a differen!

t way. So I stayed put for the next few hours drinking my beer and occasionally jotting down a few thoughts and waited for Jerry and

Deek to show back up. It was around two before they came back, each of them was carrying a canvas bag with a few dead animals

stuffed inside. They were joking and smiling looking haggard but happy with their hunt. "Hey captain!" yelled Jerry before he

reached me, "You like Boar meat?" They sat the bags in the back of the jeep and sat down at the bench. "Got a couple of baby Boars,

they're tender as hell." Said Deek taking my last beer and popping the top with his teeth. "Yeh, you should have seen the other haul

ass when they heard that magnum fire." They laughed and shared the beer. Then they spent the next thirty minutes cleaning out their

weapons and carefully packing them up for the trip back to the compound. If these boys spent as much effort on personal hygiene as

they did cleaning their weapons, they'd be the cleanest rednecks in Texas. "!

We need to get back and get ready for poor Winston's trial and hanging" said Jerry getting up and stretching, smiling at Deek. We

loaded up and headed back and as we drove I glanced at the canvas bags and saw movement. Something was still alive and suffering in

one of those bags. "Hey! Something's still alive back here!" I yelled over the noise, pointing to the bags. Deek pulled the jeep

over and got out to have a look. "No problem" he said and took a small metal bat and started to beat the shit out of the bag until

all movement stopped. "There, that'll tenderize them." He smiled and climbed back into the jeep and continued on our way. We were

back in the compound by three and I was in and out of the shower in thirty minutes. I packed everything up for the trip home and

loaded up my car. Then I sat at the bench where I'd had breakfast and opened my last bottle of scotch and settled in for the trial.

The ring we'd used the night before had been somewhat converted into a court!

room are complete with the judges seat (More than likely the judge was Lex), six chairs for the jury, and a small stool for this

poor fucker named Winston whom I hadn't met yet. (I assumed the tiny stool was to make sure he was as uncomfortable as possible) I

sat drinking and talking to Spam and Deek who were both drinking that rot-gut shit they brewed while waiting for the action to

start. Then right at four PM (according to Spam's Deluxe Digital Marlborough Watch that he proudly showed me) Lex fired a few rounds

in the air and a group of six guys entered the ring and sat down in the jury chairs. Lex then took his seat at the Judges spot and

demanded silence. "Today we try Winston Zapalac for crimes against his brothers" he yelled at the crowd and winked at the jurists.

"Sargent, bring the accused forward". One of the guys walked over to a tent and went inside, returning a minute with Winston. He was

a skinny fucker about six-two with an unshaven face and dirty shoulder len!

gth hair. He walked with a limp and had a hard time getting up into the ring so the Sargent just threw him up between the ropes and Winston landed hard on the canvas. (Winston's leg may have been really hurt but I suspect he was soliciting sympathy from whomever he could. Although these guys are definitely not the sympathetic type) The sragent shove Winston down onto the stool and told him "don't fucking move" and went to stand near Lex. "Winston Zapalac" Lex strted, staring right at him, "You are accused of stealing

Ice from your brothers, how do you plead?" Winston stared at the canvas without looking up and said in a whisper. "Guilty Your Honor". I looked at Spam an said "That was quick. Isn't he going to defend himself?" I was not aware of the rules so Spam clued me in. "it'll go much better for him if he pleads guilty. We have the proof and if he were to lie, he'd have to sit in the box for 24

hours and the whole trial would be repeated until he admitted he was guilty" !

he said and took another swig of rot-gut. "The box? What the fuck is that?" I asked discarding my cup and drinking straight from the

bottle. Spam smiled and nodded toward a tin shed, maybe five feet tall and three feet wide with no windows that was at the edge of

the compound. "Holy shit! Would he survive in that thing for 24 hours?" It was right out of one of those POW movies where some poor

fucker is thrown into "The Hole". Jesus, I wondered what could be worse than that besides physical torture. Lex spoke again but I

wasn't listening, I was thinking about "The Box" in the heat of a Texas afternoon. "Well then Winston Zapalac, do you accept

responsibility for your actions and throw yourself on the mercy of the court?" asked Lex still staring Winston down. Winston's eyes

never left the canvas as he nodded his head yes. "Well then, the jury will recess for ten minutes to decide your fate. You remain

seated until the punishment is read." Then Lex dismissed the jury who filed !

out of the ring and walked over to the cooks shack and disappeared inside. Lex then left the ring and came to sit next to Spam and

me. "Anybody ever die in that Box Lex?" I asked passing him the bottle of scotch. He took a long drink and smiled, but didn't

answer, and handed the bottle back to me. "So when are you leaving Captain?" he asked with a look like it couldn't be soon enough. I

took a drink and answered "as soon as the punishment is read, then I'm out of here." I lit a smoke and offered everyone at the table

one. "What do you think it'll be?" I asked. I got no answer but they knew because they looked at each other in a knowing way. "Don't know yet. But after it's read I want you gone, understand?" Shit, he didn't have to tell me twice. I was packed and ready to go.

Hell, I'd be on my way already if it wasn't for this spectacle. We sat and drank without saying much. I figured my time here was

spent, I had stayed as long as they'd allow without some kind of indoctrina!

tion into the Frontiersman. I just wanted to here the punishment. Ten minutes later the jury came back out and headed to the ring,

Lex got up and took his seat at the judges chair and waited for the verdict. One of the jury stood and addressed the court. "We the

jury have decided that since it was a first offense and the guilty party has admitted his dishonor to the brotherhood, that the

punishment will be the removal of the ring finger on right hand. This punishment will be carried out immediately." I thought I heard Winston whimper, but that might have been me. These lunatics were going to cut the bastard's ring finger off, and that was for a first offense! Nobody else seemed surprised at the punishment but me. I looked for a sign that someone, anyone felt a little sorry about what was going to happen to Winston's finger but saw nothing to indicate any kind of pity for the guilty. It was definitely time for me to get the fuck out of Dodge. I stood up and shook hands with Spam, then started walking towards my car in hopes they'd let me out without any problems. Just then Lex stood up and yelled my name "Captain!" most of the boys stopped what they were doing and looked my way. "We allowed you to come and see for yourself that we mean business. When the time comes, you'll here about us." Then he paused for some dramatic effect, then continued " And one more thing. If I read any negative stories about us or if the cops happen to show up asking questions about anything we do here, you are a fucking dead man. Understand?" I just looked at him as he glared at me with hate in his eyes. Fuck, where are my keys! I got into my car and thankfully the engine started right up. I pulled around the ring and headed for the gate thinking "Yes, I should have run the fucker over when I had the chance." I summarized the whole thing as follows: I didn't really get a lot of information about their politics or what it was they were so pissed about. I think it was kept from me by Lex on purpose, the trip was a wash in that respect. The whole reason Lex allowed me to join them for a weekend was to throw fear into me so I could relay it to the general public. Fear is what these kind of rat-bastards use to gain an advantage,

to gain control and to keep it, and fear is what will be their undoing. Fuck them!
D. Kendal 10127 Hanka Dr. Houston Texas 77043

713-464-4070 dkchriss666@sbcglobal.net

 

suggest: I told the monkey where to find you, and he's pissed.

 

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