ot-belly business
men," Dwight explained while he drove off. "We wait until he is finished
with his er and take him down." He poio the back of the car to a
gym bag.
Mike ope and found pepper spray, hand cuffs and baseball clubs.
"Wow!" He hooted," that' s some uff for `da cavalry," he grinned and
took the pepper spray.
Chuck grunted an approval and grabbed a baseball club. "That Broeeds to
be taught a lesson. When I am through with that fucker he' ll crawl up to `da
base all `da way!"
The brawny wrestler had a score to settle with Brock Rowley anyway, because
Brock had deflowered Chuck' s sister and dumped her on the same night. Now
was the time to pay back.
The car' s stereo laying Hard Rock music while the SUV approached the
city. Despite the risky task ahead the three men were joking. The air in the
vehicle was soon filled with musky male perspiration mixed with the st of
the leather seats on which they were lolling.
Finally the three marines arrived in downtown. They headed straight to the
"Pink Cock", a gay bar, where the Rowley brothers were usually hanging out.
"Bingo!" Dwight said and poio the bar at a muscle-packed giant of a
man, about 30 years old, 6.4 feet tall. Brock Rowley was wearing a pair of
faded work-jeans with ripped holes at the knee caps and a red and black
checkered work shirt with cut off sleeves. The shirt en half-way down
to his waist, exposing a thick mat of dark curly hair that covered the
barrel chest. Huge tattoos covered both arms from the shoulders, along the
chiseled biceps down to the wrists. The wavy dark brown hair was tamed by a
red and white bandanna.
Brock was having a beer with a chubby man, approximately in his early 40ies,
with thin strawberry blond hair, wearing a business suit and a tie.
Darren Orchard, a sales agent from O