The Scene of the Crime

We’re going to have to start today’s highly anticipated photo post off with a downer.

I’m kidding. Wait’ll you see these donkeys.

First up is DP. He’s all about form and concentration. The way he wound up reminded me of a shot-putter in the ring, minus the singlet. As you can see, he never takes his eyes off the target. That…ladies and gentlemen…is what 899 looks like. Also a bit like Pernell “Sweet Pea” Whitaker.

The Bracelet is all about grit. He’s a little tense, teeth and fists clenched tight enough to choke a chicken. But there’s subtext there, too. It’s anger. All the people who have wronged The Bracelet are contained in that punch, a million instances of douchebaggery vanquished by a silly machine and an excess of $1 bills.

These next two guys are artists, practitioners of the sweet science. In fact, they got together to discuss strategy. Physics, punch angles, arm speed. No method of inquiry was left unattended. These are the kinds of measures one takes when they throw a 60 on their first try.

Next, they fortified themselves.

Then they went to work. The Rooster put in the time. First it was all form. Almost delicate in its simplicity, it’s kinesthetic beauty.

But that didn’t get no 899. So he had to step it up.

Oh…the extension. Please Hammer don’t hurt ‘em. But still…it’s fun and games. And no 899. He had to go to a darker place, where apparently, he got taller.

The war cry, the stalking about the room prior to launch, demons summoned. The assembled masses nodded in approval, yet there was disquiet, a fear that something had escaped and it was too late to put the lid on that Pandora’s Box. Quickly, that distant thunder appeared in a flurry of haymakers from the Big Kid from Hilljack.

Really…nothing left to say.