Gut Rumbles

April 21, 2005

just desserts

Long ago, when I was first starting out at the chemical plant, I worked with a guy named Frankie Kane. He was a short, wiry guy, smaller than I am and I have never been a big man. He was friendly and a hard worker. I liked him.

We had another guy on the shift (I can't remember his name now), who was your typical bully. The guy was about six feet tall and probably weighed 240 pounds, most of it pure asshole. He was loud-mouthed, belligerent and a complete prick.

He started picking on Frankie. I don't know why, but bullies do that kind of thing. Frankie was little and this guy was BIG, and I suppose that that's all it took. Frankie never gave anybody any shit, but this big guy wouldn't leave him alone.

Finally, Frankie had enough. He told the sumbitch to meet him in the parking lot after work. We were on 4-to-12 shift at the time and I was very concerned about this fight for two reasons. First, I thought Frankie was gonna get killed. Second, I thought both of them would lose their jobs over this bullshit.

I talked to some other people (I was NOT a supervisor at the time) and we agreed to kinda referee this massacre. If it got ugly, we would break it up, get everybody out of there and never say a word about it.

They met under the streetlights in the parking lot and the big guy took one swing at Frankie. That's all he got. Frankie was on him like stink on shit and beat that big sumbitch as if he were operating a jackhammer. He pounded bad-ass to a pulp and left him draped over the hood of a car, barely conscious.

I learned the next day that little Frankie was a Golden Gloves boxer for several years before he turned professional and boxed under the name "KILLER KANE." He had about 30 professional fights under his belt. He tore that big guy up like a chainsaw.

I learned a vaulable lesson that night: be careful who you fuck with.


My hubby always says it easier hitting UP!

Posted by: Maggie on April 21, 2005 11:31 AM

You know you're going to get fighting stories now.

When I was growing up, I was pretty small and was even smaller than people in my class because of double promotions. Being small and fairly smart, I could avoid conflicts. However, like your friend, sometimes you can't--but, there are often surprise endings.

Once, I got in a fight with a kid only slightly smaller than me and from the Orient. I figured that I could take him. Every time I tried to punch him, I ended up on my back. I finally just quit trying. Later, I learned that you called those moves Judo and that he grew up with it.

My next famous story was when some guy decided he didn't like me and finally pushed me into a fight. Worse, he was the golden glove champion for his age group in Alabama, and he was about two years older than me. He started punching and swinging. I had no idea of how to block him or hit him, so I quickly grabbed him around the neck and put him in a headlock, squeezed tight until he almost passed out, and held him there. End of fight. Wrestling rules!

If I ever get into another fight with a Judo expert or a golden glove champion, I think that I'll just hit them with a chair when they're not looking.

Posted by: Woody on April 21, 2005 11:34 AM

When I was a kid, all the bullies knew I didn't like to fight. They assumed it meant I didn't know how.


Posted by: McGehee on April 21, 2005 11:43 AM

No matter how big you are, I guarantee if I shove a thumb behind one of your eyeballs and crush your codsack, you will leave me alone. All is fair in love and war.

Posted by: assrot on April 21, 2005 12:29 PM

What most people don't realize is how HARD a professional boxer can punch. Those licks come from the toenails up and they don't leave anything behind. It's like seeing a pro golfer hit a driver. YOU can't do that.

Frankie was either a bantam-weight or a welter-weight. I can't remember which, but he wasn't very big. Still... I'll never forget the sound his fists made when he pounded on Big Boy that night.

Think of a hatchet going into a ripe watermelon.

Posted by: Acidman on April 21, 2005 02:44 PM

My hubby used to get that a lot...he's short...and even while in the Marine Corps, there were those guys who thought they could mess with him. They quickly learned that just because he was short...didn't mean he couldn't kick their ass!

Posted by: Wendi on April 21, 2005 03:11 PM


May I ask whatever happened to Mr. Big Prick? Did he come back to work the next day? How did he behave after the whippin?

Posted by: AllenS on April 21, 2005 05:54 PM

Never frighten a little man. He'll kill you.
-- Lazarus Long by Robert A Heinlein

Posted by: Tom on April 21, 2005 09:57 PM

Big Boy never fucked with ANYBODY again. You shoulda seen his face the next day. He didn't look too good.

He quit and went somewhere else shortly thereafter.

Posted by: Acidman on April 21, 2005 10:18 PM


Like you I'm neither big or small, but I like the Marty Robbins song "Mr. Shorty" and your story remeinded me of it.

Posted by: Ivan Ivanovich on April 23, 2005 09:49 AM

I'm a new reader to this blog so I'll keep this short. I'm actually on the other end of this spectrum. I was always the kid in school that would walk down the hall and see over everyone else's head. That must have made me a target. Had the local bully try me once and that's all it took. When his feet were 6-8 inches off the ground pressed up against a locker, he found the error in his ways. First, last, and only time I had to show that I didn't really like to fight but, when pushed, I won't lay down.

Posted by: Leuthen on May 2, 2005 11:45 PM
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