Chapter 6 – “How’s It Going Mijo”
“The DoubIe Douche.” As quick with a pun as he is with a punch, these are Wade’s first words upon riding up to the Double Deuce on his Harley. He shakes his head in amazement and turns off the rumbling beast. Wade looks like an over cooked piece of bacon, grizzled and tough. He brushes his long, gray hair out of his eyes. What’s Dalton gotten him into this time?
Around back, Dalton supervises the delivery of alcohol. His attention turns to a pickup truck kicking up a dust storm as it speeds across the parking lot. It’s Wesley’s gang, led by Morgan, who’s been gunning for Dalton ever since he’d been fired. Dalton knew he’d come looking for revenge, and he probably wouldn’t agree with the old saying that it’s a dish best served cold. No, he’d probably like to serve up a big hot plate of revenge.
The four men exit the truck and march with authority towards the loading dock. As Dalton looks on a breeze tousles his hair slightly. He sighs, knowing there’s going to be trouble, and with 4-on-1 odds, make that trouble with a capital “T”.
” Put ’em back. This bar is closed for business,” O’Conner says to the delivery boy. O’Conner, tall, balding, and wearing a light blue polo shirt, looks like an accountant, but you can rest assured, he crunches more than numbers.
Dalton nods at the delivery boy. “It’s OK, Jim. Take a break.” Despite the immanent violence, Dalton remains calm, using his undergraduate philosophy training at prestigious New York University to steady his mind.
“Can I buy you guys a drink?” Dalton asks. O’Conner clinches his fists. Tinker removes his hat and straightens his suspenders. The Big Guy looks on with a cold stare. Morgan doesn’t look at Dalton at all. Instead, he examines a liquor bottle closely and then smashes it on the ground. They’re not thirsty for beer – they’re thirsty for blood.
“Guess not,” Dalton says with a smile. As he finishes speaking he springs into action, kicking Tinker. O’Conner throws a punch, but the “Fighting Philosopher” is ready for it. He blocks the punch and stuns him with a shot to the kidney. Next, Dalton kicks Morgan in the stomach, doubling him over, and then he nails O’Conner again, this time sending him to the ground with a vicious right cross. The fight progresses at the speed of pain, with Dalton dispensing blows quickly and in every direction, like a hurricane made of karate and grace. He kicks Morgan in the face, punches Tinker again and readies for O’Conner, who’s back on his feet. Dalton hits him with a textbook roundhouse to the face and a second kick to the chest, which sends him flying. The Double Deuce is Dalton’s Dojo, and class IS in session!
The Big Guy, who had been smashing liquor bottle, finally enters the fight, grabbing Dalton from behind and lifting him off the ground. The muscular Dalton looks miniscule next to this guy, but he’s more skilled than the giant. He repeatedly reverse head-butts the man in the face, bloodying his nose and forcing him to let go. As Dalton recovers from the bear hug, Morgan breaks a bottle over his head, stunning him. Dalton knew alcohol could give you a headache, but this is ridiculous!
Meanwhile, inside, Wade moseys up to bar. “You got a skinny Iittle runt named DaIton working here?” The bouncers and bartenders all stop what they’re doing and look at the old man in shock – who would dare to insult the best Cooler in the business?
“Yeah. He’s out the back,” Travis says with a smirk. If the old man has this attitude with Dalton he’ll end up with a mouthful…a mouthful of his own teeth.
” Pour me a beer, will you? I’ll be back.” Wade throws some money on the bar and goes to find his pal.
Outside, Dalton’s in a world of hurt. O’Conner and Tinker are holding him as Morgan repeatedly punches him in the stomach.
“How d’you Iike that Kung Fu?” Morgan asks, as he punches the defenseless Dalton. From the winces Dalton displays after every punch, it’s clear the question is not necessary – he doesn’t like it, not at all, but there’s no escape from these hooligans.
Wade emerges from the bar to find his friend in peril, but he doesn’t seem too concerned. Wade and Dalton been in tougher spots than this, that’s for sure. “How’s it going, Mijo?” he asks.
“Mind your own business, Dad,” Morgan says to Wade with a smirk. He’s obviously not familiar with the ancient Chinese saying “An Aging Tiger is Still a Tiger.” And this tiger’s about to roar.
Morgan returns to assaulting Dalton as the Big Guy approaches Wade. Wade is giving up a foot and 20 years, but he doesn’t look scared. Wade probably should have been a factory recall, because he was built without a sense of fear.
“Do you wanna fight, dickIess?” the Big Guy asks.
Wade, always quick with a clever comeback, says, “I sure ain’t gonna show you my dick.” Before the Big Guy can recover from the verbal blow, Wade hits him with a real one, punching him in the crotch. Wade then kicks the outside of his right knee, which sends the man to the ground with a sickening snap. No matter the size, if you take out a man’s knees, he’ll crumble.
“Oh, shit!” he screams out as he clutches at his leg and roles around on the ground. Wade looks down with a smile, brushes back his hair and says, “Goddamn, that hurts, don’t it?”
Tinker charges and Wade greets him with a punch to the face, and then throws him off the loading dock. O’Conner tries his luck next, throwing a haymaker which Wade easily ducks under before countering with a shot to O’Conner’s belly. He then kicks an advancing Morgan, ducks under another O’Conner punch, and hits him with a vicious right cross. Morgan’s back for more, but Wade’s ready, and he sends him to the ground with a vicious right cross. Wade then returns his attention to the punch drunk O’Conner. He stuns him with a quick jab and then throws a vicious right cross that sends the man sprawling into the dumpster.
Dalton finally regains his composure. He punches Morgan, sending him towards Wade, who punches him back towards Dalton. It’s a game of Bar-Room-Brawl-Hot-Potato!
“Hey, there’s a fight out back!” says Carl as he comes barreling out of the bar. The other employees follow the chubby bouncer. They watch as Dalton grabs Morgan by the collar and readies for the fatal blow. As his body is a lethal weapon, Dalton literally holds the terrified man’s life in his hands. Just before he strikes, the anger subsides and Dalton pushes Morgan to the ground. His philosopher’s mind knows it’s not worth it.
He looks at Wade. “Hey, I had it under control.”
“Yeah, I knew that,” Wade says with a a laugh. “Good to see you.”
The two warriors hug and something passes between them that can only pass between those that have served together on the field of battle. It’s like brotherhood, but stronger and more manly.
“Who is that guy?” An amazed Carl asks.
“GentIemen, Wade Garrett.” Dalton waves his hand before Wade, revealing him like a model showing off a car at a convention. Wade gives a slight bow.
“HoIy shit,” says Carl with a look of amazement, as if to say “THE wade Garrett?”
Things are looking up at the old Double Deuce.
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