From Dusty Irwin's notes.
No fuckin' karate.
Takes too long to learn, you get all beat to shit using it, and if someone really big comes along, you get your ass kicked anyway.
There's no goddamned legend of someone who cleaned the streets with fuckin' karate.
Dirty hands as last resort.
Weapons. Stick to weapons.
No ninja bullshit.
No stars, no darts, no nunchucks.
Same problem as karate.
I don't want something I need classes for, it should be pick up and use it.
Mace, taser, billy club, ball bearings, brass knucks, shit like that.
Actually, look for inspiration from super villains.
They're broke-ass, and have to homemake their stuff.
Eh...can't hurt to have in the trunk.
A jaws of life would be good.
Where do you get those?
Dusty had been doing a shift from midnight to four.
Maybe he needed to find a worse part of town.
Brad and Chad were out having fun.
Y'know, drinking, shooting the shit, tagging, stealing shopping carts.
Suddenly, this guy all in black, with a hockey mask cut up to look like a skull, and with green mirrored sunglasses underneath walks up, and maces Chad, knocking him off his cart.
Brad totally would've kicked his ass, but the dude pulled out, like, this bazooka, and, Brad figured he'd better split.
Fuck him, man.
You don't know.
Dusty looked at the writhing teenager, and told him "tell your friends".
When masked, he figured he'd better keep it short and sweet.
No Shakespeare shit.
He'd written "Jade Shade", in spraypaint on the punk's back.
A pity the paint wasn't green.
Black and red, it was always black and red these kids stole.
He went with black.
Not a glamorous beginning, but it would have to do.
Dusty tried not to be depressed.
Could have been worse, the kid who ran could have tried some karate shit.
Despite later accounts, he did not have a bazooka.
HAPPY B-DAY . . . ICEVEIN! - *"I don't always drink beer . . . but, when I do-* *-it is from the skulls of those who have failed me."* * **"Stay thirsty for vengeance, my friends."* ...
2 days ago