Post by The Submission Technician on May 23, 2008 14:55:53 GMT -4
Tuesday, 05-20-2008 06:30hrs EST.
It was a morning like all mornings, the alarm clock buzzed reality into existence once again. Waking with a slight annoyance at having been ripped from his slumber Vin E Lambardo arose from his bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he fumbled to turn his alarm off. Next to the alarm clock laid a pack of cigarettes with one butt pulled from it, a pre-packed bowl, and a lighter. Vin grabs the cigarette and sticks it behind his left ear. He takes the bowl and lighter and sucks the breakfast of champions’ right into his awaiting lungs. Three glorious hits later and the cigarette is now called on for its support in the slow plod to full consciousness. Vin stumbles into the bathroom with the half lit cigarette barely hanging on to the little patch of skin on his lower lip. Just then reality set in and he remembered that he has a very important match to get ready for. But this had to be different, special. This is for gold, which means this has to be over the top big.
Vin: “So how do I make this and over the top victory? How do I make sure that when this match is over that I leave with the gold?” “Ok Vin think, this is a hardcore match that means no rules. I need a new angle on this one. Something that he will never expect. I’ve already hit this guy with the Crucible, Molly Wop, spear, etc… What to do? Hmmm.”
Vin gets enveloped in thought. Before long he decides to turn on the television and take a break from thinking about the match for a few minutes. As the twenty seven inch television turns on the news is mid broadcast.
News anchor: “And topping off our stories this morning, The LAPD is in trouble again. This time being charged with the shooting death of three African American teens, at a drug bust gone tragically wrong. This comes as just another in a long line of police brutality and racism dating back to the infamous Rodney King beating in 1991.”
Vin: “That’s it, I got it. Tonfas that’s what I’ll do.”
Vin quickly grabs his computer and starts to research. He goes to Google and types in Rodney King. Gets the Wikipedia link and starts to read. Rodney Glen King (born April 2, 1965 in Sacramento, California) is an African-American taxi driver who, in 1991 was stopped and then beaten by Los Angeles Police Department officers (Laurence Powell, Timothy Wind, Theodore Briseno and Sergeant Stacey Koon) after being chased for speeding. A bystander, George Holiday, videotaped much of the event from a distance. Part of the video was broadcast around the world and shows four LA police officers restraining and repeatedly striking a black man, while four to six other officers stand by. There is no part of the tape that shows Mr. King attacking the officers, as some have claimed. The resulting public outrage raised tensions between the black community and the LAPD, and increased anger over police brutality and issues such as unemployment, racial tension, and poverty in the black community of South Central Los Angeles. The four officers were tried in a state court for using excessive force, but were acquitted. The announcement of the acquittals sparked the 1992 Los Angeles riots. He then cross references the four police officers, Laurence Powell, Timothy Wind, Theodore Briseno and Sergeant Stacey Koon to get their phone numbers. Vin quickly grabs his phone and makes a call.
Vin: “Hey Pete……Listen I need a small favor...I need you to get in contact with a few cops for me and set up a meeting……..so I can train…..just tell him that I need to learn some take down and submission holds using a night stick….Tell them that I will get them all tickets to the PPV, and if you absolutely need to offer them some money…..…I’m sending you the names of the four cops that you should ask….and get me a red eye to meet with them……….Thanks man….call me back and tell me what he says…..thanks man….talk to you soon….peace.”
Vin, having had this great idea bolts to the basement to start working on a solid steel tonfa for the match. He toiled for hours firing and hammering the metal into shape. Adding weight in the end of the stick. Making grip lines for the handles. Buffing, smoothing and polishing the piece so that it looked as impressive as the damage it would be used to inflict. He tests it out on some two by fours in the corner. The wood cracks and splinters under the tremendous force from the blow. “that will do nicely” Vin thought to himself. He puts the tonfa down to spark a blunt in celebration of a tool well made. As he slowly exhales the magic mist the buzz of his cell phone vibrating in this pocket gets his attention.
Vin: “Hello….Hey Pete……He will….great…which one said yes…they all did …where am I meeting them……….when do I have to make the flight by?....ok then I have to move if I am going to make the airport in time……..you did what?.........you have a car coming for me already?....cool so how long do I have?....great thanks again Pete."
He hangs up his phone and runs upstairs and gets his bag packed. He breaks out an ounce of grass, a pack of EZ Wider rolling papers, and a grinder. He proceeds to roll 20 joints and fills a previously empty pack of cigarettes.
Tuesday, 05-20-2008 14:00 hrs PST.
Vin’s flight lands at LAX, the plane taxis, and connects to the boarding platform. As Vin exits the plane he makes sure to give his number to one of the flight attendants, who made his flight more than pleasurable. He is greeted by two uniformed officers. They explain to him that since the incident in 91, several attempts have been hade on the lives of the officers in question, so they were sent to check out the situation. Vin completely understanding the cardinal rule of the street, which is “never trust anybody” consents to a search. The search turns up nothing. Vin rides in the rear of the sector car, memories of a life not all too left be hind come creeping to the surface of his mind. They drive into a little suburb of Los Angeles by the name of Castaic, just off route 5. They pull down into the horseshoe style neighborhood, house number 28633 Greenwood place. Vin was let out of the car and led to the house. The two officers introduce Vin to Sergeant Stacey Koon.
Vin: “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”
Sergeant Koon: “Likewise.” “You know I have to tell you when your friend first called I didn’t believe him and I hung up on him. But when thirty minutes later my lawyer called me and told me that it was legit I damn near shit myself. My son absolutely loves APW. So does half the force. So when I told the guys that you needed a hand working on some new moves for you match with Tony Blackwell they said no problem.
Vin: “I sure do appreciate it a whole lot. Now I was doing a little thinking and I was wondering if you could show me how to use a night stick?”
Sergeant Koon: “No problem, night sticks are our specialty, now I’ve been thinking and your move the Crucible I believe you call it, well that would be just the most perfect move to use a baton with. Come on let’s go inside and hit my gym with the boys.”
The sergeant takes Vin into the house and introduces him to the other officers. They all greet him with the enthusiasm of their children. They get to work almost right away.
Sergeant Koon: “Ok Vin try this, grab the baton with the long end running down your forearm.” “Good, now shoot in for a single leg take down, only when you do it this time only grab the leg with one hand, and instead of hitting his knee with your shoulder use the baton along your forearm.”
Vin does as he is instructed and Laurence Powell hits the ground hard.
Sergeant Koon: “Great job kid, you seem to have that down perfect, next you are going to learn how to properly execute a choke hold from behind and standing. Ok grab the long part of the baton in your left hand, about half way up the shaft, now as you reach across use the vertical handle to post on the side of his neck and grab the straight handle with your right.” “Good now drop your center of gravity and lean back.” “Excellent!”
Theodore Briseno: “Now the next thing that you need to learn is how to use the baton for leverage to open up your perp. Umm opponent, sorry. I’ve been looking at your Crucible move, I want you to try something.” “Throw your half nelson like normal, keep the stick in your right hand, now snake the stick through with the handle going toward your left hand. Good now grab the vertical handle with your left and the bottom of the stick with your right, now you only have to expend half the energy to hold the move.”
Vin: “THAT IS FUCKING SICK!!! I FUCKING LOVE IT!!! THIS BITCH IS SO FUCKING DEAD!!!”
Timothy Wind: “Ok, that’s all good but you need to remember that the main purpose of this weapon is the strike. The area of the body that you want to hit is going to influence how you hold your weapon. The four main areas that you will be most effective at administering large amounts of pain with low risk of permanent damage are as follows…1. top of the shoulder between the base of the neck and the curve of the shoulder, this should be done holding the short end of the baton with your bottom three fingers and wrapping your index finger over the vertical handle like so…2. the arm pit, strike here while holding the vertical handle and punching with the sort end…3. the gut, just below the sternum, any strike in that spot will take the wind right out of them…4. the thighs, NOT the KNEE! This is important, you can break the knee very easily and then you have to answer to fucking lawyers and fucking judges, fucking sons of bitches, anyway the thigh is better because a strike here will cause swelling of the muscle and the ligament, then they can’t walk or run properly. You know if a man can’t stand he can’t fight, and if a man can’t walk the bitch can’t run.”
Vin: “Fuck yeah!”
This continued into the wee hours of the morning. Ankle breaks, wrist locks, arm locks, vital strike areas. The officers seem to take special delight that the skill which once had them on trial and cost them so much, would now be paying off in a big way. Not only were they going to Mayhem but they were making a nice piece of change off this little training session. Vin grabs a cheap motel for the night and catches a plane back at nine am the next morning.
Wednesday 05-21-2008 17:00 EST.
Vin lands at JFK airport, as he steps out of the terminal on to the street he hails a cab. The cab is old, dingy, and has the distinct aroma of curry permeating from every crevice. After a lovely ride of curry and music that would curdle the stomach of a goat, Vin finally arrived home.
He grabbed his mail from the floor, and headed up to his bedroom. As he started opening his letters he could never remember a time in his life where he got this much mail in a single week let alone two of three days. And there they were, three different endorsement offers.
The first offer was from Explosia a.s. and explosives company based in the Czech Republic. They were offering him a one million dollar contract over six months to endorse their company, due to, as the letter reads, “a need to familiarize the American people with their company in an effort to further a potential contract with the United States military. The second offer was from the Peerless Handcuff and restraint Company to endorse their new line of High Security Waist Restraint System for Prisons and Military use. The scope of this contract would include three million dollars over eighteen months. And the final contract offer was from Majestic Lock Incorporated, for their ProLok line of car opening kits and key punches. This contract offers four million over two years. All of the contracts stipulated however that these offers were contingent on him winning the belt at Mayhem, if not all the money would be halved. Vin’s mouth dropped and he could not believe what he was reading. He quickly call Kenny. Kenny was not picking up his phone, so Vin left him a voicemail urging him to call him asap.
Vin: “I think I understand what my brother was telling me about this business. I had no fucking clue it would be like this though.” “As if I wasn’t motivated before with the whole you booted me in the head thing, now I have no choice but to hand this guy his ass.”
[/color]It was a morning like all mornings, the alarm clock buzzed reality into existence once again. Waking with a slight annoyance at having been ripped from his slumber Vin E Lambardo arose from his bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he fumbled to turn his alarm off. Next to the alarm clock laid a pack of cigarettes with one butt pulled from it, a pre-packed bowl, and a lighter. Vin grabs the cigarette and sticks it behind his left ear. He takes the bowl and lighter and sucks the breakfast of champions’ right into his awaiting lungs. Three glorious hits later and the cigarette is now called on for its support in the slow plod to full consciousness. Vin stumbles into the bathroom with the half lit cigarette barely hanging on to the little patch of skin on his lower lip. Just then reality set in and he remembered that he has a very important match to get ready for. But this had to be different, special. This is for gold, which means this has to be over the top big.
Vin: “So how do I make this and over the top victory? How do I make sure that when this match is over that I leave with the gold?” “Ok Vin think, this is a hardcore match that means no rules. I need a new angle on this one. Something that he will never expect. I’ve already hit this guy with the Crucible, Molly Wop, spear, etc… What to do? Hmmm.”
Vin gets enveloped in thought. Before long he decides to turn on the television and take a break from thinking about the match for a few minutes. As the twenty seven inch television turns on the news is mid broadcast.
News anchor: “And topping off our stories this morning, The LAPD is in trouble again. This time being charged with the shooting death of three African American teens, at a drug bust gone tragically wrong. This comes as just another in a long line of police brutality and racism dating back to the infamous Rodney King beating in 1991.”
Vin: “That’s it, I got it. Tonfas that’s what I’ll do.”
Vin quickly grabs his computer and starts to research. He goes to Google and types in Rodney King. Gets the Wikipedia link and starts to read. Rodney Glen King (born April 2, 1965 in Sacramento, California) is an African-American taxi driver who, in 1991 was stopped and then beaten by Los Angeles Police Department officers (Laurence Powell, Timothy Wind, Theodore Briseno and Sergeant Stacey Koon) after being chased for speeding. A bystander, George Holiday, videotaped much of the event from a distance. Part of the video was broadcast around the world and shows four LA police officers restraining and repeatedly striking a black man, while four to six other officers stand by. There is no part of the tape that shows Mr. King attacking the officers, as some have claimed. The resulting public outrage raised tensions between the black community and the LAPD, and increased anger over police brutality and issues such as unemployment, racial tension, and poverty in the black community of South Central Los Angeles. The four officers were tried in a state court for using excessive force, but were acquitted. The announcement of the acquittals sparked the 1992 Los Angeles riots. He then cross references the four police officers, Laurence Powell, Timothy Wind, Theodore Briseno and Sergeant Stacey Koon to get their phone numbers. Vin quickly grabs his phone and makes a call.
Vin: “Hey Pete……Listen I need a small favor...I need you to get in contact with a few cops for me and set up a meeting……..so I can train…..just tell him that I need to learn some take down and submission holds using a night stick….Tell them that I will get them all tickets to the PPV, and if you absolutely need to offer them some money…..…I’m sending you the names of the four cops that you should ask….and get me a red eye to meet with them……….Thanks man….call me back and tell me what he says…..thanks man….talk to you soon….peace.”
Vin, having had this great idea bolts to the basement to start working on a solid steel tonfa for the match. He toiled for hours firing and hammering the metal into shape. Adding weight in the end of the stick. Making grip lines for the handles. Buffing, smoothing and polishing the piece so that it looked as impressive as the damage it would be used to inflict. He tests it out on some two by fours in the corner. The wood cracks and splinters under the tremendous force from the blow. “that will do nicely” Vin thought to himself. He puts the tonfa down to spark a blunt in celebration of a tool well made. As he slowly exhales the magic mist the buzz of his cell phone vibrating in this pocket gets his attention.
Vin: “Hello….Hey Pete……He will….great…which one said yes…they all did …where am I meeting them……….when do I have to make the flight by?....ok then I have to move if I am going to make the airport in time……..you did what?.........you have a car coming for me already?....cool so how long do I have?....great thanks again Pete."
He hangs up his phone and runs upstairs and gets his bag packed. He breaks out an ounce of grass, a pack of EZ Wider rolling papers, and a grinder. He proceeds to roll 20 joints and fills a previously empty pack of cigarettes.
Tuesday, 05-20-2008 14:00 hrs PST.
Vin’s flight lands at LAX, the plane taxis, and connects to the boarding platform. As Vin exits the plane he makes sure to give his number to one of the flight attendants, who made his flight more than pleasurable. He is greeted by two uniformed officers. They explain to him that since the incident in 91, several attempts have been hade on the lives of the officers in question, so they were sent to check out the situation. Vin completely understanding the cardinal rule of the street, which is “never trust anybody” consents to a search. The search turns up nothing. Vin rides in the rear of the sector car, memories of a life not all too left be hind come creeping to the surface of his mind. They drive into a little suburb of Los Angeles by the name of Castaic, just off route 5. They pull down into the horseshoe style neighborhood, house number 28633 Greenwood place. Vin was let out of the car and led to the house. The two officers introduce Vin to Sergeant Stacey Koon.
Vin: “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”
Sergeant Koon: “Likewise.” “You know I have to tell you when your friend first called I didn’t believe him and I hung up on him. But when thirty minutes later my lawyer called me and told me that it was legit I damn near shit myself. My son absolutely loves APW. So does half the force. So when I told the guys that you needed a hand working on some new moves for you match with Tony Blackwell they said no problem.
Vin: “I sure do appreciate it a whole lot. Now I was doing a little thinking and I was wondering if you could show me how to use a night stick?”
Sergeant Koon: “No problem, night sticks are our specialty, now I’ve been thinking and your move the Crucible I believe you call it, well that would be just the most perfect move to use a baton with. Come on let’s go inside and hit my gym with the boys.”
The sergeant takes Vin into the house and introduces him to the other officers. They all greet him with the enthusiasm of their children. They get to work almost right away.
Sergeant Koon: “Ok Vin try this, grab the baton with the long end running down your forearm.” “Good, now shoot in for a single leg take down, only when you do it this time only grab the leg with one hand, and instead of hitting his knee with your shoulder use the baton along your forearm.”
Vin does as he is instructed and Laurence Powell hits the ground hard.
Sergeant Koon: “Great job kid, you seem to have that down perfect, next you are going to learn how to properly execute a choke hold from behind and standing. Ok grab the long part of the baton in your left hand, about half way up the shaft, now as you reach across use the vertical handle to post on the side of his neck and grab the straight handle with your right.” “Good now drop your center of gravity and lean back.” “Excellent!”
Theodore Briseno: “Now the next thing that you need to learn is how to use the baton for leverage to open up your perp. Umm opponent, sorry. I’ve been looking at your Crucible move, I want you to try something.” “Throw your half nelson like normal, keep the stick in your right hand, now snake the stick through with the handle going toward your left hand. Good now grab the vertical handle with your left and the bottom of the stick with your right, now you only have to expend half the energy to hold the move.”
Vin: “THAT IS FUCKING SICK!!! I FUCKING LOVE IT!!! THIS BITCH IS SO FUCKING DEAD!!!”
Timothy Wind: “Ok, that’s all good but you need to remember that the main purpose of this weapon is the strike. The area of the body that you want to hit is going to influence how you hold your weapon. The four main areas that you will be most effective at administering large amounts of pain with low risk of permanent damage are as follows…1. top of the shoulder between the base of the neck and the curve of the shoulder, this should be done holding the short end of the baton with your bottom three fingers and wrapping your index finger over the vertical handle like so…2. the arm pit, strike here while holding the vertical handle and punching with the sort end…3. the gut, just below the sternum, any strike in that spot will take the wind right out of them…4. the thighs, NOT the KNEE! This is important, you can break the knee very easily and then you have to answer to fucking lawyers and fucking judges, fucking sons of bitches, anyway the thigh is better because a strike here will cause swelling of the muscle and the ligament, then they can’t walk or run properly. You know if a man can’t stand he can’t fight, and if a man can’t walk the bitch can’t run.”
Vin: “Fuck yeah!”
This continued into the wee hours of the morning. Ankle breaks, wrist locks, arm locks, vital strike areas. The officers seem to take special delight that the skill which once had them on trial and cost them so much, would now be paying off in a big way. Not only were they going to Mayhem but they were making a nice piece of change off this little training session. Vin grabs a cheap motel for the night and catches a plane back at nine am the next morning.
Wednesday 05-21-2008 17:00 EST.
Vin lands at JFK airport, as he steps out of the terminal on to the street he hails a cab. The cab is old, dingy, and has the distinct aroma of curry permeating from every crevice. After a lovely ride of curry and music that would curdle the stomach of a goat, Vin finally arrived home.
He grabbed his mail from the floor, and headed up to his bedroom. As he started opening his letters he could never remember a time in his life where he got this much mail in a single week let alone two of three days. And there they were, three different endorsement offers.
The first offer was from Explosia a.s. and explosives company based in the Czech Republic. They were offering him a one million dollar contract over six months to endorse their company, due to, as the letter reads, “a need to familiarize the American people with their company in an effort to further a potential contract with the United States military. The second offer was from the Peerless Handcuff and restraint Company to endorse their new line of High Security Waist Restraint System for Prisons and Military use. The scope of this contract would include three million dollars over eighteen months. And the final contract offer was from Majestic Lock Incorporated, for their ProLok line of car opening kits and key punches. This contract offers four million over two years. All of the contracts stipulated however that these offers were contingent on him winning the belt at Mayhem, if not all the money would be halved. Vin’s mouth dropped and he could not believe what he was reading. He quickly call Kenny. Kenny was not picking up his phone, so Vin left him a voicemail urging him to call him asap.
Vin: “I think I understand what my brother was telling me about this business. I had no fucking clue it would be like this though.” “As if I wasn’t motivated before with the whole you booted me in the head thing, now I have no choice but to hand this guy his ass.”
