South Africa
Part 75
Based on emails from September, 2002.

Well, seemed like I'd stirred up a hornet's nest when I told Gary about my altercation with Craig. I expected Gary to do the whole non-violence trip and lecture me about having friends being better than having enemies, but nope.

"Well, that Craig sure gets up my nose. What a loser! What a piece of slime! I don't blame you at all for defending Steph's honor as well as your own. Anyway, it'll be all over town now that he couldn't handle a one on one with you - that one of his goons had to come to his rescue. Wingnut will help spread the word like wildfire, and Steph will probably tell some of her friends. Actually, I don't see why Steph is upset. Fucking hell, if you'd just sat there and allowed that slimeball to say whatever he liked I would've been disappointed in you. I think you did the right thing. So should Steph. As for making friends with that slimeball, he's the one who should apologize to you. But he wouldn't have the guts for that. He's all muscle and no insides. He needs a fucking good thrashing if you ask me. And it seems that Wingnut agrees with me."

"On the other hand, in hindsight, I guess you could have asked Steph if she would like to accept his offer of a fuck, then come back and tell you how lame it was hehehe. In other words, call his bluff. Anyway, the guy's a dickhead with a HUGE chip on his shoulder."

So I answered Gary by telling him that Craig was one of those typical fucking first team rugby players who thought the sun shone outta his fucking ring. He'd already told Jason and Winger to tell me that he'll take me on any time. All I had to do was name the time and place.

I'd gotten lucky during our last altercation. He was slaughtered from too much booze, else I would never have been able to put him down. Yeah, fucking right. I got him fucking good, but he would never admit to it.

I was cool about Steph being pissed off, though. That's the way she used to feel whenever Cody got himself into a bit of a blooding. But she would always hassle when guys started to lose control and put the boot in. I figured she'd probably seen what Mark did to a coupla guys when they were going out together.

But I was willing to take Craig on. Not so happy, maybe, but willing. I figured it was time now. Steph thought I was being uncool about the whole situation. She reckoned I would end up being fucked up by him.

Winger? He just wanted me to take on Craig so that he could shut Jason up, cos Jason was convinced that his bro would send me to hospital.

Actually, I was past caring now. I couldn't go on forever watching my back or thinking about where I could or couldn't go because he might be there. That was bullshit. I'd actually already asked myself, "What happens if I lose and end up being beaten badly?" I figured the answer to that question was that at least it would end the bullshit... even if it meant standing and facing him without my hands hanging at my sides.

I'd never been into this fighting crap until Cody came on the scene. Cody was the kinda guy who never stood back for anybody. He and Craig had almost come to blows once during a swim meet. But the coach stepped in and put a stop to it. Craig never messed with Cody again after that. He knew that Cody wasn't afraid.

Meantime, I told Gary that that cough he was experiencing was normal, and that it would probably get worse for a few more days. "It's your body trying to get rid of all the years of crap. Hey, I've been there and still go into coughing spasms sometimes. What you should do is cough into a bottle or something and then give it to the road maintenance guys to fix up the roads in Taree hahahahahaha! That thick black shit that's been coating your lungs for all this time. But now your lungs are gonna get all pink and gay!" :)

"Hey, I think it's the fucking bomb that you've come this far without a single smoke. I had a joint last week for the first time in fucking ages. I was sharing it with a school bud. Didn't even think about it 'cept that I got zonked."

I also told Gary about something really cute that happened yesterday. Winger came around late afternoon, and brought Jacky with him.

"Came to show her your battle scars," was his explanation at the door.

"Piss off!" was my first reaction, then I realized I was in female company. "Sorry, Jacky."

But she just laughed. "You think that Winger never speaks like that?"

I'd led the way through to my room where Winger lifted my T. But he wasn't expecting to see what he saw. His eyes grew as large as fucking dinner plates at the sight of my bruises.

"Something's broken," he concluded. "That is sooo bad!"

"It is? I only realize how bad it is when people say something."

Jacky was making no secret of the fact that she was happily staring at my abs. :) Had to control myself from getting a rise. So I asked her if she wanted to put some arnica oil on it for me. But before she could respond, Winger grabbed the bottle from me and said that he'd do it. Sorry, kiddo. Quick as a flash, Jacky grabbed the bottle from the grommet and told him that she could manage. Hahahahaha! HE WAS UNDER CONTROL!

I took off my T cos I was getting high on the fact that she was enjoying staring at me. I stood while she gently massaged the oil on the bruises. But even then it was fucking painful. The bruises were purple black, so I knew there was a lotta damage there.

After she'd finished, I put my T back on then went through to the kitchen to get some cold drink for my guests. When I returned to my room, the two of them were on my bed, and Winger had his arm around her. They were staring into each other's faces, madly in love and oblivious to my presence. Then Winger became all red faced when he saw me, stood up from the bed, and grabbed the glasses of juice. They left soon after that, with Winger saying that he thought it was cool that I'd flattened Jason's brother.

Later in the day, towards evening, Steph arrived. She'd cooled down a bit, and was OK about the Craig thing. But she suggested that I needed to tell my folks about it. "I can't do that, Steph. There's fuckall that they can do for cracked ribs, anyway. And it would only lead to opening a can of worms that I'd rather keep the lid on."

"You need those bruises seen to."

"You're hired."

I gave Steph some surgical tape, and asked her to strap me up good and tight. "Yeeeooowww!!! Not that tight!" I thought I was gonna crawl across the ceiling one time when her fingers accidentally nabbed me on the soft spot.

Later, I checked Cody's World to see how the Tarzan voting was going, and it looked like Egor was gonna walk this one easily. I was also planning on starting a new competition where I'd get the visitors to send me a pic of a dude they thought could be a winner. It had to be a naked dude, else it would be too difficult to work with as a graphic.

It was a public holiday on Wednesday - Heritage Day or Proudly South Africa Day. It was a day that was meant to highlight and promote SA products. I chose that day to tell my folks about my ribs, so they organized me to see the doc, who in turn sent me to the hospital emergency room for x-rays. There was no major damage - no cracks or fractures or anything. But there was a layer of muscle that had been damaged, and the doctor explained the whole fucking thing to me. The upshot was that it's fucking worse cos it's a soft tissue injury, which took fucking ages to come right.

So what did my folks think about the fight with Craig? I didn't tell them. I told them that the rib damage was the result of my coming down hard on my board, and they swallowed that story. My dad would've freaked if I'd told him that someone had kicked me. He would want to lay charges and crap. Can you just imagine the crap that would happen as a consequence of that? Meantime, I'd already started to work harder in the gym cos I didn't want to let this Craig crap slow me down.

I also filled in some time thinking about the next Cody News page, just to get some ideas and pics and shit together. Frazza was helping me with a few ideas. :)

And my manager was keeping himself busy as well. My manager? Meet Wingnut. He was busy arranging the title fight between Craig and me for sometime in the near future. I found out about his arrangements yesterday evening.

"So I told Craig that it was cool, and that you'll be taking him on, and that you said it was cool to have the fight in the school gym."

"Have you gone beserk? You gone soft in the head or something? In the school gym? His home turf? And, anyway, who the fuck said that I was gonna take him on? I was gonna have a talk with him, Winger, for fuck sake! You're making this whole situation worse than it already is!"

"Yeah, well, fuck, I'll tell him that you're a chicken shit next time I see him, and that you're just gonna run every time you see him."

"Hey, Winger. You know that feeling you get when you're so damn mad that you you wanna choke someone? I'm close to that right now. And you're the one I wanna choke! Think I haven't been in any fights before? The problem now is that we're bigger. We hit harder and we cause more damage. And, yeah, I hate fucking pain. You're different. You can handle pain."

"So can you. I'll train you to screw him!"

Screw him? I had to double take on that comment, and be careful not to laugh at it's double meaning. Whoa! Imagine that! Me fucking Craig in the boxing ring with Winger kinda holding my dick, and explaining where it should go. Hahahahahaha!

"So why are you smiling, Steve? Reckon I can't train you?"

"Hey, bud. I want to speak to him first. OK? Everyone thinks I should just beat the crap outa of him but it's not that fucking easy. OK, I know that you're able to show me a few moves, but that's not gonna be enough. Craig has got the fucking balls for a fight, and that makes the difference."

"Cody would've taken him out right now after what he did to you. And I know you've got the balls for this as well cos I felt them," he smiled. "Nice, hanging ones."

"What's Jason's move on what's happening?"

"He reckons Craig's gonna wipe the floor with you. But I think you can do it, Steve. Serious! I really think you can take him on. C'mon, man! Look at you! You're as big as he is."

"I'll think about it. But do you mind if I try to speak to Craig first?"

"Yeah, right. Like he's gonna listen to you? He wants your heart for breakfast."

"I can try, though." Winger didn't like what I was saying. Compromise? His face sank, and I could tell that he was fucking disappointed. "OK," I relented. "If Craig doesn't listen to any sense then I'll take him on cos you're gonna be my second, and I'm gonna fucking give him a hiding to remember. Plus a shot or two just for you so you can boast to Jason."

"Fucking ace!" The beaming smile had returned to the grommet's face. "Then Jason can shut the fuck up and clean up his brother's mess. Hehehehe!"

Well, I got around to making the phone call to Craig, and it went as Wingnut had predicted earlier.

"Craig? It's Steve here."


"Listen. I'm not sure what Wingnut's plan was, but I didn't ask him to organize any fight between you and me. I think we've fought enough as it is already."


"Can we just be friends or something? Or at least not be at each other all the time?"

"Fuck that, bro. You made the challenge in front of your chick, and now you want to bail? Then you try something on when I'm not expecting it. Fuck you! You're dead meat. And if you don't make a time, then I'll make a time."

"There's no fucking reason for us to fight. I don't even know how all this got started."

"It started when you smacked my lightie brother. So now you can't take on someone your own size? I promise to take it easy on you. Wingnut says it's gonna be all legal with the coach there. But he's my coach so he's gonna want me to win anyway. Hahahahaha!"

"Hey, Craig."


"Think you've got the balls to beat me in a fair fight?"

"Say what?"

"You heard me. I'm gonna take you apart, fucker. Once and for all."

Well, that certainly got up Craig's nose. He was so fucking angry that I could almost not hear his voice. "You're so fucking dead when we meet, bro," he growled.

"So now I'm your bro? Fuck you!"

Copyright 2002 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 Steve Part 76