Every Friday Ma asks me to pick up a fresh bottle of milk and a fish for dinna, but brotha, not all Fridays are the same.
Anybody caught alone, lost, on the back streets a South Boston is frikkin asking fa’ah beatin. But this time, you shoulda seen this guy! He musta been 8 feet tall, minimum! Hikin boots, plum-smugglin super high khaki shorts, hat, and no shirt- are you frikkin kiddin me!? Last thing I need to see on my way home to ma is 20 yards of tangled chest haih.
When I first saw this guy, he was tapping on the front window of an old bakery, each rap a his fingah makin a small crack in the glass. I joined the group of people gatherin around and watched as a sandvich stuffed hoovy asked him to leave. The guy turned around, drew 100 liters of air into his lungs, and bellow out, “SAXTON HALE!”
Everyone cowahd! Nobody could move! We were deafened! Stunned by the scream. And brotha, in one swift kidney punch he took the hoovy down. Once we got our bearings back, we mobbed him.
Now normally, I fight with all these thugs, remind em of their place on these streets, but today was different. Today, it was all a us against the president a Mann Co himself. And Yo, you shoulda see this guy jump. He jumped clean up to the roof of the old bakery in one bound.
I got some good hits in with the fish I picked up for dinna. It did some pretty good damage. In fact, I think everybody who went melee on this tuff guy got in crits. I guess the only thing that can really hurt Saxton is someone with the manhood enough to get up close and lay on the hurt- you know, someone like me!
Constant rocket splash damage, sticky traps, and my crit fish and we finally drove this guy away. Turns out he was lookin for the next location for one a his Mann Co. stores. I’m sure he’ll be back to claim the old bakery. In the mean time, I’m hopin Ma won't mind the fact I tenderized the fish a little. Ya ask me, it might add to the flavah.
Jump in and find an Arena (VS Saxton Hale mode) and check it out if ya haven't already.