BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 214
It was George who chose to rudely interrupt the man. If I was asked to make a
guess, I wouldn‟t‟ve thought he was even a fourth of the way finished with all his threats
and intimidation attempts. They were getting juicy as hell, and I was right on the edge of
the seat I forgot to bring out. George even used our right leg, the one that was so badly
damaged about three years ago in the accident. He swung it in a savage kick that landed
precisely at the point of the inverted vee that made up the soldier‟s crotch.
I swear, if there‟d been NFL scouts present, George and I could‟ve had a contract
with at least a dozen teams if that kick was on a football, instead of a soldier‟s nuts.
The green beret immediately switched from alto to tenor and let out a scream so
high, all I could think of was a nun‟s fingers running down the blackboard to get the
class‟ attention. He grabbed his balls with both hands and held them as he went to the
ground in a heap.
George wordlessly stepped forward and kicked him in the face. It was so hard,
blood sprayed all around them. He continued kicking the man in the head, the back, the
ribs on each side as the guy rolled over to avoid him, and stomped on both legs a few
times. With one more kick to the face, a blow I‟m sure left the green beret in need of
some plastic surgery, George looked to the other green berets. “Any of you guys want a
piece of me?”
The sergeant stepped forward. “No, we‟re cool.” He motioned toward the one on
the ground with a nod of his head. “I think he‟s had enough, though.”
“Okay, but keep that motherfucker away from me,” George advised. “The only
thing I hate more than a punk is a mouthy punk. Where I come from, we don‟t talk about
it, we just do it.”
Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963