February Sucks (Alternate)

This is a different reimagining of GeorgeAnderson's February Sucks.

Author's note. (This is also a spoiler alert. I like to respect my readers and let them know this up front.) This is not the 'normal' February Sucks story. It also does not contain sex scenes (Sorry about that, but that just didn't fit in with my story.) It also does not conform to Loving Wives. On the other hand, it is a grand BTB driven by non ex-military ninja spies who have millions if not billions of dollars along with a host of high tech wizards. (Whew. Wait a minute, I left a couple of things out...)

It's just us regular people. This is for those of us that were born with a plastic spoon in our mouth, not silver, platinum or gold. This is my take on taking down powerful assholes that act outside of the law to say nothing about human decency.

The original story dealt with the fallout caused by a self-centered and immature wife that steps out of her marriage in order to achieve a 'dream' experience, not thinking of the consequences. The result was that the shit really hit the fan for her and everyone else. The other part of the original story is that of the entitled 'star' that can get anything and anyone he wants. He has a series of protectors and bootlickers to ease his way.

There have been many well written stories (and a couple of duds) by authors that accepted the challenge.

I have a slightly different view on this morality tale. Indeed, this is a morality tale. What if Linda had been date raped by the asshole while he was a college star? What if it happened long before she ever met Jim?

This is my take on it.

I also know several people, male and female, that are on the shorter side. (I'm slightly over 5' 11.4".) To be honest, I never try to mess with these friends. Do I respectfully joke with them? Yes. Mess with them? No. Not only No, but Hell No. They are not tall, but these persons are well respected and have integrity. I am honestly in awe of most of them. I admire who they are and what they have accomplished. They taught me that height is just a number. (Some are 'more mature' so they have two (Not height but age related)'It's just a number' headings... These people have integrity, courage, friendship, goodness, fairness and determination. These are traits that really matter. Flashy cars and clothing, titles, adoring fans,.... is bullshit, unless you are that shallow, vain or needy. God knows that there are plenty of people like that in this world.

As always, any errors, real or imagined, are the sole responsibility of this author. This story is the result of my somewhat repetitive efforts to do what I can without the collaboration 0f a pr00freader.

(Yes, look at the last line carefully. It's a joke.)

Bottom line, I did what I could with the resources and (the limited) abilities that I have. If that isn't going to be good enough for you, don't bother reading my submission. Save yourself.

(Shit. I said that again. Will I ever learn?)

By the way, a reader or two (or was it all three of my readers?) have suggested that I read my story ALOUD and that may help. Damn, I sure hope it helps. Mumbling under my breath didn't do it.

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(From the original story)

"As Linda neared our table (from the dance floor) and our eyes met, her best smile faded to her second-best. I knew then that we had a problem.

For just the tiniest moment, I could have sworn Linda was afraid. Her eyes widened and I could feel her hand trembling. She covered the moment quickly, though, and looked away from me and across the table."

----

Her dance partner Marc LaValliere followed her to our table. Linda was looking at me, questioning. Looking at him, I replied to her with a visibly angry face while pulling on my left ear lobe. She glanced at me as her right hand fisted and her left hand covered her right fist.

These were our pre-set signals.

Everything was now set to go on my side and now verified on her side too. It was now her turn to complete her part of the plan. All of us were on course and all of the multiple layers of our planned safety net for her were ready. His takedown was next. Doing this plan had some risk, but in the end, this was her choice and we were all supporting her and were ready for it. She now slipped part of a palmed Rohypnol, a roofie, into her own margarita. She twirled her drink around in a clockwise fashion looking distracted for a minute as her choreographed reaction to my 'anger' at her and LaValliere played out. The twirling was enough to dissolve the drug. Then she lightly touched the outside of one of her pockets to verify that more roofies were there. Taking a measured sip of her drink, we watched as LaValliere preened in his barely subtle alpha-male attempt to take down our marriage and claim Linda for the night. As the music restarted, he roughly grabbed Linda by the hand and rushed toward the dance floor.

It's show time folks. Take down is now in active play.

------

Years ago while Linda was taking classes at her local community college, she spent a weekend away with her cousin Cathy at her cousin's university. They both went to parties on both Friday and Saturday nights. At the last one, Linda met LaValliere and got to talking with him. That was the last thing she remembered. She woke up at 4 AM, naked and with dried cum on her. Next to her was LaValliere, naked and sleeping. She realized that she had been drugged and raped.

She knew that he was a football star and this asshole was going to be protected. It's just a fact of life. Going public would just be a shit-show for her and she'd pay for it for years. She'd be painted as a party girl who was just asking for it and now tried to shake him down. At colleges, a winning football team means fame and money, prestige and plenty of freely giving alumni. Rules and laws will be bent to keep that gravy train going. Donors demand a winning team and a few colleges will turn a blind eye, and then some, for some of their stars. This was one of those colleges with that reputation. It wasn't the first time this happened and won't be the last. It's no different in business, politics or even some religions.

Even being groggy, Linda knew that she would survive this and didn't let despair take hold. Do what needs to be done now, deal with the emotions when it's safe and when there's time. This was a learned family trait. She focused on what she could do - and then did what was most important. She knew that she was not even going to try to be prosecutes for rape, so she made no effort to protect the evidence.

Putting her clothes back on, she grabbed his phone to see what he had on it. LaValliere's phone accepted his sleeping fingerprint to open. Thankfully she discovered that he had not videoed her rape. That would have been more than painful. After deleting most of the user files that his apps stored, she then accessed all his cloud and school accounts and did the same there. She didn't see any photos of his past rape conquests and she was glad about that. No telling what that asshole would have done with those pictures to any woman if they ever stood up to him.

She went after his school work and watched 'his' work vanish. She didn't know if it would work, but a friend of hers told her one time to do directory and global file rename, copy those files a different name, delete the original and then copy a blank file on to those new names. She then followed it up with global deletes for good luck. Hope springs eternal. This may screw things up for him, or it could be just a wasted effort that a tech could undo. Doing something, actually doing anything helped calm her mind. It may not work and his files may or may not be able to be recovered, but it gave her a purpose. She was sure that his handlers would have to draft somebody to recreate his class work, if he had ever done the work in the first place. Destroying his email and contacts took some time, but in 10 minutes, she had deleted everything she thought was important. Some emails she forwarded to news organization she trusted, including several different college papers. She then started changing every password that she could. If she had time, she would have hit a 'My Little Pony' site and order tons of stuff, but there wasn't any time for that.

LaValliere began to stir and that startled her. Going into the bathroom, Linda used her own phone to call for an Uber. With arrival due in 10 minutes, she took a messy shit then dumped his phone, minus his sim card and memory card into the unflushed toilet. Gathering every one of his pants, shorts and underwear that she could find in his spacious regal 'star athlete' dorm room, she quietly left to wait for the Uber.

Miles away on the way to the train station, she made a stop at a 7-11. Heading out a back door by the washrooms, she tossed his clothing into the dumpster and covered it with greasy paper napkins, used tampons and some containers of unidentified but smelly fluids as well as used fry oils that were in the dumpster already. Pulling something from the shelves for breakfast, she paid for it and got back into the Uber. Linda was soon at the train station.

When she was back in her town, she immediately followed up with a morning after pill and had a full STD screening scheduled for the next day. She was thankful that she didn't live in one of those states that think that they own her uterus making what she just did a crime. Only then she called her parents. They were on vacation with her grandparents, camping near the Grand Canyon. Linda ended up crying on and off for days. Seeing a trusted therapist that was her mother's cousin over the next several months helped immensely.

When we were dating and started to get serious, Linda told me about her 'encounter' with LaValliere. I was the first non-relative that she trusted enough to share her story with. After she told me, I was livid. How could some asshole feel that rules don't apply to him? There's always been a lot of that kind of shit going on and that behavior is promoted by a series of bootlickers. Bootlickers tend to like people who do shit like that. Bootlickers also can't figure out that they're bootlickers. I read something by a noted Psychologist saying that it's about basking in someone else's glory or some shit like that. I always thought, 'don't sleep with pigs if you don't want to wake up with flies and smell like shit'.

Either way, I wanted to kill him but that was a fantasy for me. LaValliere was 6' 4", 230 pounds of well-toned muscle and not an ounce of fat. I'm 5' 7" and scrawny. Linda is 4' 8" and weighs... well I'll never talk about her weight, but I was easily able to pick her up and carry her over the threshold after our wedding.

As the years passed, Linda and I continued to grow together in a strong and loving marriage. We had our disagreements, but we always had each other's backs. We had little Emma and Tommy and our life was good. As good as two people working together and loving their family could. We lived with a limited amount of spare time because of our working, our house rehab and being involved parents. Linda also became a part of the PTA and I sung in the choir at church. Linda's PTA 'gig' took a meeting every month and two evenings of planning. The church never had enough men singing and it was something that I enjoyed. Choir for me was one weekday evening every two weeks as well as three Sundays a month.

Several months ago the local football club hired Marc LaValliere. Hailed as the savior of our hometown team, his name, face and athletic abilities punched Linda and me in the gut on an almost daily basis. It was emotionally draining and even our children noticed the tension in the house. Over six weeks into 'LaValliere mania', her parents and grandparents called us over for dinner and a chat. A close friend of ours watched our kids and put them to bed at their bedtimes. It only 'cost' us one Amazon movie rental.

To this day I still don't know who was more angry, her mother or her grandmother. I do know that her father and grandfather were only slightly less pissed, but their 'suggestions' were much more painful and very lethal at the same time. I soon realized that her grandparents were more than willing to do something that if they were caught, would mean jail for them. When I brought this up to them, they laughed and said that it'd be worth it at their age. I knew them well enough to know that they were serious. I guess that when you've cheated death a few times on the operating table, your attitude about life changes. Kamikaze was what they were willing to be. They've also have been living only on Social Security for the past 5 years and at Linda's mother's house in a back bedroom for free. Not having more than $1,600 in savings, they didn't fear being sued. Nothing from nothing leaves nothing.

I never knew her grandparent's full backgrounds and I don't think that Linda did either. Over the next half-hour, we found out about Stan and Beverly. They are now in their mid-70s and are still reasonably healthy and active. The whole of Linda's family are on the shorter side. I've a good 4" height on most of the men and more on the women. I feel like a giant around them and short around the rest of the world. When Stan and Bev were in their late teens and early 20's, they had a kind of hippy and 'Robin Hood' lifestyle. They travelled the country for two years and then some. As neither of them came from any money, the honest odd job along the way was sometimes supplemented by occasionally 'liberating' small things they needed, but only from people and businesses that had excess. They also tended to look for work when they needed money and occasionally would siphon gas from Caddys and Lincolns to feed their VW bug. Because they had time on their hands, they picked up a lock picking set and book at a flea market. They practiced that fine art. It was for fun and pleasure with a little bit of 'profit' on the side. They also occasionally sold a bit of weed. Finding kindred spirits on the back roads of America in the 70's gave them a number of under-the-radar weed suppliers. It wasn't 'Mowie Wowie', but it was healthier then the US government's paraquat sprayed marijuana being smuggled in from Mexico during those years. Sometimes I wonder about the number of seniors that now have Parkinson's. Most of those afflicted that I know of were more than casual pot smokers in the 70's.

We sat there listening to all of this in astonishment. Her grandparents had hid their past quite well. They told stories of their 'low dollar successes' and living on the margins. They were off the grid before that term came into being. But at the end of their 'adventures', there was a near miss. By sheer luck, they avoided getting arrested. Something didn't feel right about buying a 'brick' of grass they had previously arranged for. They were about four blocks away when they decided to call it off. Driving past the turn off to the meeting point, they saw the tale tail signs of several unmarked squads in unusual places. That near miss made them decide to end this chapter in their life. Being pregnant with Linda's mother was another factor for them to do the straight and narrow. They came back home, settled down, and got real and permanent jobs. They raised their expanding family to a total of two girls and one boy and a house, all before 'somebody' got snipped. Linda's mother Deb broke in with "TMI" to stop their next round of reminisces. Old people and reminisces and a part of a case of beer coupled with a Jack Daniels chaser does allow the mind to wander. After some chuckling and tossing down the rest of her second long neck, Deb told us all "Ok. Now let's get back to the task at hand."

We were more familiar with Linda's parent's stories. They spent the next five minutes to bring out their important ones. These were the ones that showed skills that may be needed for the takedown. Deb and her husband Josh had been somewhat aware of her parent's past, but they also appeared to Linda and me to be on the straight and narrow. When they were young and on a cheap vacation, somebody tried to pick Josh's wallet. A man got it halfway out when Josh's elbow hit the 'gentleman's' solar plexus that was then followed by Josh's knee into his groin. Deb followed up with nailing the accomplice that took a swing at Josh to try to save his buddy. The expert side kick to that man's knee (courtesy of years of being a soccer forward) stopped him in his tracks. She didn't have enough height and was at the wrong angle to connect with his balls. These actions effectively ended both of their escapes. It was a vacation area in Mexico and the Police quickly arrived. Between the two of the thieves, the police discovered 6 stolen wallets. We didn't have to testify or even give them our names, just disappear into the crowd. Police work was different in those years down there.

Being small of stature, Linda's parents both learned how to protect themselves at need from much bigger people. They also practiced the fine art of picking pockets as a hobby because of their Mexico trip. That 'skill' was for fun but never for profit. However, they sometimes did it to humble somebody that was outright abusive. More than one wallet at a bar was flushed away before the waitress presented the bill to the table. When you're short, people don't pay attention to you or even think at times that you're human. Self-protection skills and awareness of your surroundings were also drummed into their three children.

After Linda was drugged, her mother Deb got 'Uncle Red' to analyze the drugs that Linda took from LaValliere. It was Rohypnol, aka roofies. The dime sized pill peaks in blood levels 1 - 2 hours after ingestion. It starts working in 15 minutes. It causes memory impairment and impaired judgment. It's not called a date rape drug for nothing. Taken with alcohol, the effect is tripled. It's detectable in the body for 60 hours. Best of all for us now, its possession is a federal offence.

After finding out what it was, her mother Deb later obtained a couple of thousand dollars of it from 'Uncle Red', but kept those drugs hidden for these years.

Deb is kind of a 'free spirit'. She has crystals, gets readings (palm, tarot cards, I Ching, auras and other 'alternate reality' stuff) and has an occasional vision while under 'rooms, meditation, sensory deprivation tanks, or whatever. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a 'Don't ask, Don't tell' kind of person. As long as she doesn't put people in harm's way or discourage them from following standard medical practices, I really don't care. We all saw several deaths and continuing serious health complications of infected Covid deniers. I don't put up with that shit.

Deb has shared with us some of her readings and visions during some very quiet times in her life. I learned not to question her, but I also didn't act on whatever she 'saw'. One of the best ones I heard from Josh was about a sporting bet she made. She (and Josh paid it) lost $50 on a Superbowl bet. It's not my monkey, not my circus.

Soon after Linda was drugged, Deb got several readings followed by her own visions. All of them contained controlled revenge. The supply of roofies was somehow ordained in all her visions to be part of it. Her husband Josh just goes along with it. Pick your battles with your spouse very carefully. He's a very smart man.

With 'LaValliere mania', all the adults in Linda's family not only dreamed of revenge from when she was in college, but we were now all now determined to do it. This was personal. Don't fuck with our family. We're a short family with an attitude. The six of us explored different plans to takedown that rapist. Within a week, we agreed to a workable plan. It would take all of us to take him down. This was all the while keeping Linda out of much of harm's way.

------

Linda broke away from LaValliere before the end of the music and returned to our table, quickly followed by LaValliere. With his bloviating and his macho posturing, Linda didn't have to put much effort into him thinking she was enamored of him. He was so full of himself that he missed all the contrary clues. His need to show how important he was made him an easy to play. Funny thing, he had no clue that he was now the prey, not the predator. Pride goeth before the fall. An occasional smile from Deb was all it took to keep him hooked. She was even able to get him to hold her margarita. His fingerprints on her glass would be something nice for his conviction. We had another 5 minutes before we knew the drug was going to start to visibly take effect.

In the last couple of weeks, Linda had experimented taking small doses of the drug to understand its effects on her and determine what the proper dosages she needed. She and I had some very great evenings with her slightly higher doses. She also learned how to act as if she was under a greater dose then she had actually taken. That was going to buy us some needed flexibility and time.

Now sitting at the table, it sickened me to see him put his hands on her shoulders and pull her back to his chest while he wrapped his arms around her. After killing another minute or two, he pulled her to the dance floor again. That's when Linda 'tripped' and fell against him and they both tumbled to the floor. In an attempt to get up, Linda's hands pushed randomly against his chest and lower torso. When they fell, I jumped up over to him, breathing fire. That immediately got LaValliere's full attention. Holding his eyes with my anger kept his attention from going elsewhere. My right leg was also in striking distance to his crotch as it was planted touching the inside of his right knee. He showed real 'discomfort'.

He and Linda thrashed around in an uncoordinated way until they finally separated on the floor. Sitting on the floor Linda said "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I'm kind of a klutz." She was waving her hands around and in a minute finally stood up with my help. Once standing, LaValliere returned to acting superior. He was once again projecting his self-made alpha status. Linda backed away and finally straightened up completely. She began to brush non-existent dirt off her right sleeve several times. That meant success. If she was brushing her left leg, it meant that she hadn't slipped the extra drugs into his pocket. Linda's mother had extensively practiced with her so Linda could successfully slip the drugs on to his person. It was the opposite goal of being a pick pocket, but used similar techniques and distractions.

Once again Linda started talking to LaValliere. "I'm so sorry. I must've tripped on something." Her speech started to change. It was not crisp and clear as it normally is. Turning to me and talking loud enough for LaValliere to clearly hear she said "Honey, I'm going to have this final dance with him and then I'm all yours." LaValliere chuckled and walked away with Linda. I could see two big men that looked like linebackers waiting at a table on the other side of the dance floor. There was a slight nod between them and LaValliere.

At a table next to the linebackers, Linda's parents and grandparents sat. They had been observing everything and were ready.

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While driving around earlier this evening, Linda's grandfather Stan had seen a fire engine red '67 'Vet driving around. He texted everyone, "Any help with putting the grandkid's swing set together this weekend?" This was code for LaValliere was out and cruising. Over the past couple of weeks, this was the third time we were at this stage. The other two times LaValliere was spotted, he ended going to a different bar. He rotated between several bars and Morrison's was overdue. Stan's text meant that he was going to tail him, and we all needed to get ready and immediately head on over to Morrison's now. We all awaited for the next text to see if we should actual enter Morrison's.

As part of our planning, most week nights at least one of the six adults would drive past Morrison's and around the neighborhood to see if LaValliere was here. Because of his money, and more so because of his need for public attention, his car was very noticeable. It was a fire engine red 1967 Corvette L71 coupe. The newspapers, talk radio and internet sports blogs reported that he paid $150,000 for it. It was in really good condition. In fact, it was close to pristine. Pristine could take it past $225,000, but you really can't drive museum cars on the road, even if your ego demands it. His current paycheck couldn't support that. That's what the next job. Going to the NFL was his next goal, and that would pay for his next splashy car and lifestype.

It was after 7 PM when that red 'Vet headed into Morrison's parking lot. Stan texted "Po'Boys for lunch for anyone helping with the playground project". The yes text replies confirmed that everyone were soon to be in place.

The game was now on. The target was in range. The weapons were loaded and locked. Linda and I were 3 minutes away. After the first text we called next door for our regular teenager baby sitter. She came over right away. By then, we had changed and loaded what we needed. We quickly drove to Morrison's. Linda's parents had already picked up Bev, Linda's grandmother along with some tools and 'supplies' and also headed toward Morrison's.

Parking nearby, Linda's parents, Deb and Josh, and her grandmother Bev stood next to the locked red 'Vet. In the darkened parking lot, Bev knelt down and had the locked Vet's door open in 3 seconds. She loved older cars for that reason, so easy to open without a key. Her gloved hand placed a small package under the passenger seat. Relocking the car, she quietly shut the door and stood up. Being one of the 'short' people, standing, she was still hidden behind her daughter and son-in-law.

While they were standing there, Josh dropped down to his knees and pulled out a very small electric drill. A hole sized slightly larger than the size of a decking screw was made into the tire. Waiting until the tire was half deflated, Josh pushed a decking screw into the hole to mostly slow the active air leak for a while. If it was longer time, the tire would completely deflate on its own. If the car was driven in the next hour, the screw would quickly pop out and totally deflate the tire. Corvettes can't drive far with a flat, even if the driver doesn't care about the undercarriage or the steering. The reduced clearance with the road would quickly do a number on the drive train and an even bigger one on the steering. Josh scattered a small amount of construction debris in front of and behind the tire's path. For good luck, Josh wedged two decking screws between the parallel threads of the rear tire, making it looked like he actually rolled over additional construction debris. The 'Vet would now be useless as a quick getaway. The three of them then walked past Josh's car, dropping the tools back in the haphazard toolbox in the back seat. Walking into Morrison's, they joined Stan. He was seated at a table slightly behind where the linebackers were sitting.

Linda's grandmother and mother each had an older taser in their right hand pockets. These were gas powered and effective at 6'. We did not want the women get any closer to their assigned targets. Contact tasers for them were out of the question. Tasers have a limited effect and their paralyzing effects can't be guaranteed for long. Popular culture says otherwise and that doesn't make for good reality. It's kind of like the myth of putting chloroform on a rag covering a person's mouth and nose so they stop struggling in seconds. That's bullshit. It takes minutes. It's the same with tasers. The shocks can only be counted to stop someone while the shocking is still active. Granted that for some targets, they give up after that. But we were worried that these 300 pound linebackers wouldn't stay on the floor. Because of their size and physical training, these linebacker targets may be able to recover quickly. Also, if the targets are under the influence of drugs or alcohol, all bets are off. This was our greatest fear.

Linda's father and grandfather had several more backup 'options' to keep the gorillas at bay. The salt and pepper shakers tops on their table were loosened and the contents were going to be used. This was their primary weapon. As tasers could be explained away for women carrying them around, salt and pepper shakers on the table were just 'on hand'. If it went south, it wouldn't show premeditation. We all practiced how to effectively throw the salt or pepper at a target's face. We had some in-depth discussions on wind speeds and doors opening that would disrupt our attacks. Tossing something light into the air would show 'which way the wind was blowing'. We needed to be aware of 'wind currents'. As to our practice, a section of my backyard will never be the same until several thunderstorms wash out were our practice throws were made.

All of our combined experiences in protecting ourselves were coming into play. There were a few more 'arrows in our quiver', but if it all went Deep South, Stan had a smoke grenade. We all hoped that it would never come to that. All of us had legal pepper sprays for backup. The sprays would be used only if the situation was going bad and one of the bad actors got the upper hand. The spray would taint the air and many people would be affected by it.

Years ago there was a night club in Chicago where the security guards used it on a patron or two. Several people were trampled to death when the crowd panicked trying to leave. Granted, the safety exits at that place were limited, but the deaths were real. Of the other weapons in reserve, there was one 'weapon' that I really liked. Who ever knew that old pointed steel toed cowboy boots would ever come back into style?

----

Linda started slowing down on the dance floor and rubbed her left hip. That was her sign for the escalation. She then started to become clingy with LaValliere. Then she became loud then quiet then loud again. She started to behave more and more erratically. LaValliere walked away from the middle of the dance floor and toward his henchman while holding on to Linda. I jumped up and ran toward Linda when I was intercepted by the linebackers.

What these gorillas did not see was that her grandmother Bev and her father Josh came up behind them. The two gorillas blocked me with their bodies, and then manhandled me. I screamed out and got a slap in the face. Gorilla one was winding up to give me a haymaker when there was a loud electric shock. Bev's taser got him in the side and he went down twitching and moaning. His gorilla buddy turned around rushing toward Bev and Josh hit him in the face with the open pepper shaker. Spread over his eyes, nose and mouth, gorilla 2 was blinded and gasping for air. That caused him to cry out and thrash about on the dance floor and moan loudly in pain. All eyes were on the dance floor and several people started taking video.

The tased Gorilla started to get his bearings. He started to get up and was swearing loudly "I'm gonna get you, you bitch. No one does that to me." He began approaching 75 year-old Bev, when he screamed in pain, rubbed his eyes and fell over. Josh had jumped in front of Bev and emptied the salt shaker in to his face from close range. That stopped him cold. His screams were loud.

Josh then called out "Somebody call the police." He didn't see any movement. "CALL THE POLICE NOW". Several women patrons started dialing. The bar's manager, Joe Morrison, the son of the original retired owner called out "All right now. All right now. We really don't need to call the police. This was just a slight misunderstanding now. I'll take care of this. We can all go back to..."

With the distraction of the salt, I had finally reached LaValliere and Linda. Still dragging a semi-compliant drugged Linda, he was approaching the tables on the other side of the dance floor. He was heading to the exit door nearest his 'Vet. I'm sure that he felt it was time for him to lay some rubber out of there and take his prize home for the night. Stan, Linda's Grandfather and her mother Deb were in front of him.

Deb yelled out "That's our daughter. Then when Deb got a 'good look' at her daughter Linda, she screamed "SHE'S BEEN DRUGGED. MY DAUGHTER'S BEEN DRUGGED." She then even louder than before, "LOOK AT HER EYES." The crowd became silent and this stopped LaValliere cold. His eyes darted left and right around the room. He saw that his linebacker flunkeys for the night were out of commission. His 'date' was now an anchor. All he could do was to escape. He dropped Linda and sprinted to toward the exit.

The only person in his way was Stan. As LaValliere put his hand on Stan's shoulder to push him aside, there was another loud electric shock. This time it was LaValliere on the ground, twitching and moaning. Deb was holding the taser, shaking. Then she ran to her father Stan and loudly called out, "Are you OK Dad? Are you OK Dad?" He reached out to her and held her hand. Rubbing her forearms he said "I don't know, but thank you for saving these old bones." That was our code for him being OK, but the 76 year-old was going to play injured. I looked around and saw several people taking video.

In the distance, I heard faint sirens. The crowd was silent when I heard Linda's grandmother scream out, "Touch any of the glasses at my granddaughter's table and I'm going to tase you for tampering with evidence."

Joe Morrison looked at her and laughed. "That's a one shot taser. Now get out of my way... AHHHHHHH". With both feet, Josh flew horizontal in the air and hit his target, Morrison. That man flew sideways for 6' before he hit the bar hard and then slid to the floor. He sat there in shock and began moaning. Not one of his employees went to help.

LaValliere started to get up, but I swept my leg under his and he fell back down hard. That's when I pulled out my pepper spray and pointed it to his face from 4' away, outside of LaValliere's kicking range. "Don't even think about getting up. The police are on their way." A crowd of women had surrounded Bev and Linda, trying to help them. The other husbands stood around LaValliere and me. I hoped that nothing more was going to happen. I quickly glanced around and saw our family and others with their cell phones out, looking at anyone that perhaps were going to intervene on LaValliere's benefit. With all the cell phones taking video, I didn't think anybody was stupid enough to try something.

Then the police showed up. There's at least one in every crowd, and they're at the head of the line.

Within 5 minutes, it was clear that this 'incident' was on its way to being minimized. That's when 76 year-old Stan stood up and made a commanding announcement. Stan is 5' 3". He walked up to the officer in charge and looked directly into his eyes. The officer was 6' 1". It looked comical if it wasn't so serious. Speaking very loudly so everyone could hear. "OFFICERS." They stopped what they were doing and looked at him, along with most of the patrons of the bar. "IS IT WORTH YOUR JOBS? IS IT WORTH YOUR PENSIONS? WE'VE GOT MULTIPLE PEOPLE HERE VIDEOING THESE THREE ASSHOLES ATTEMPTING TO STRONG ARM MY GRANDDAUGHTERS'S HUSBAND, MY DAUGHTER AND MY SON-IN-LAW AS WELL AS MY WIFE AND ME. HE DRUGGED MY GRANDDAUGHTER. IF YOU DO NOT DO YOUR JOB PROPERLY, I WILL SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS BRINGING YOU TO JUSTICE. AND THEN YOU'LL HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO YOUR WIVES AND YOUR CHILDREN WHY YOU CAN NO LONGER BE A COP ANY MORE."

The room was deadly silent. He continued, "Just because these men have more money and fame, it does not make them MORE EQUAL." Leaning against a chair, wincing while rubbing the shoulder that LaValliere 'hit', he continued. "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR OFFICERS?" That's when the crowd gave 76 year-old Stan a standing ovation. All the police officers looked around and nodded yes. Every bit of evidence was on multiple video. Every action was uploaded several times to YouTube by the end of the evening.

After the immediate interrogations started, the lead officer called for detectives and evidence technicians. The bar's office was closed off with evidence tape. The manager looked scared.

------

The shit started to hit the fan within an hour. By morning the headlines quickly hit the local news and talk radio.

"Short family of Davids defend themselves against Goliaths"

"Local athlete arrested for drugging dance partner"

"Three arrested for Drugging PTA Mom and roughing up Choir Dad"

One TV station didn't mention it at all. All the other TV stations and talk radio shows immediately started asking why. By the 6 PM news, a very sanitized version of the incident was on the air. It did not include any specifics. It's a pity that it really didn't matter much for some of their audience. For most others, it was another reason to never watch that station.

On the other hand, Stan's 'speech' became famous. He got his 15 minutes of fame. He didn't want fame. The mayor, a fan of the football club and a frequent visitor to complimentary box seats, started to see a darkening future. He, his police force and his city was going to be in the spotlight, and not in a good way. Is it the spotlight or is the crosshairs? It appeared that he was now forced to do the correct thing.

All the while, the Internet news was a whole other thing. It must have been a slow day for news or the novelty of 'Short People' against Giants was just too much to pass by.

"Short people take down Linebackers with Salt and Pepper. What could they do with Steak sauce or Chili?"

"300 pound linebackers taken down. Football star no longer having his way."

"Munchkins rule the day."

A day later it got worse, or better depending on what side you are on.

"Is the local DA making a deal with 2 Linebackers in drugging case?"

The most telling headlines that day were multiple versions of "Has this happened before?" The stories that followed included interviews of people that saw LaValliere and company in action before.

We knew beforehand what we had to do. Just like we had practiced out 'stories' before we ever entered Morrison's, all six of us made for crashing in our home 'bunkers'. No interviews, no statements, no nothing. We all filed police reports immediately. Linda and her father were released from the hospital the next day. I spent several hours in the ER and got home by 10:30. I had called the baby sitter's parents to explain what happened. The mother took over from her daughter who had school the next day.

The next morning at the hospital, Linda and I were able to sneak out a back door after she was discharged. Yes, we got the results of her blood work. She was drugged, but at a much higher level than we were expecting. This told us that we should be expecting other 'unexpected' things.

We shunned the press and anyone else that tried to contact us. We all took 'two weeks of vacation' from work, if we worked. Sure as hell we didn't answer our doors. As expected, our emails and phone numbers became common knowledge. We had immediately put out vacation notices on all the accounts saying that we were unavailable until further notice. Within 2 days, there were several hundred emails from unknown people. Most were supportive, but a number of them were vicious. We were cautious. The women kept their phones, tasers and taser reloads on their person at all times. There were also several strategically placed bats, boxes of powders, caustic liquids, marbles (causes tripping when unexpected) and a few other things on hand at all times. We made it a point of none of us being alone. This included someone waiting outside the first floor bathrooms. Everyone kept their phones charged and 911 on speed dial. Several police officers gave us their personal phone numbers for mass texting in case of trouble. We all had prepared 'HELP NEEDED NOW' texts preloaded for them. We found out that these cops were no fans of LaValliere. Stan had another text that he only sent to all of us. "Help Me Obi-Wan Kenobi, You're My Only Hope". That was followed by an emoji of a half empty beer and something that could look like a smoking joint. Linda sent back an LMAO to her grandfather.

Whenever the police would stop on by to check us in the first day or two, we were alerted first by their coded text. We always had coffee, teas, non-sugary soft drinks and healthy snacks available to them. THERE WERE NO DONUTS. Linda's mom made sure of that. Our cops, it was now 'our' cops, were amused. They are damn fine people that actually were not burned out seeing the worse of and broken humanity on a daily basis. It was great to see. They lived and worked separating the wheat from the chaff. It reaffirmed my faith in policing as well as humanity.

Three days after 'the incident', trash started to be thrown on our lawns. This went on for days until it hit a tipping point. Gas was used to write something unmentionable on our lawn, and then it was set on fire. It happened sometime after midnight. We called the DA for a face-to-face meeting at my house.

The DA and the Chief of police came to our house for a 2 hour meeting. Yes, my mother-in-law provided 'healthy' snacks. I saw them chuckling when she wasn't looking, but they did wolf down with a smile what she provided. She did make tasty things that were 'healthy' for you. But I'll never tell her that.

By the time the meeting was over, we were told that changes were going to happen and happen soon. Half of my neighbors have video doorbells and they were also pissed that this was happening to us and the block. Reviewing the videos, the chief of police used his staff to identify the cars and people in those cars. He wasn't pleased when his personal car was one of the offending vehicles. It was clearly driven by his son after midnight on a weekday.

With the principal's permission, the police chief decided to teach the adolescents a lesson. During a school wide assembly, several squads arrived at the school, lights flashing. A total of 15 children, 11 boys and 4 girls were selected during the assembly and escorted out by the police to the station. Their parents were immediately notified to pick them up. Some parents were mortified and some were pissed at their kids. A couple families were 'going to sue the entire town for'... whatever. It's the old version of a strong attack is the best defense.

The parents were sent to the large conference room with their kids. There they watched date and time stamped videos of their children driving by, tossing trash and unknown fluids, screaming obscenities and more at our house and lawn and our other neighbors' lawns. Treading on their favorite team was obviously a viable reason to be an asshole. The 'arsonist' families got their own viewing. That one was set up in one of the cells with an unlocked door for maximum effect. It worked.

Parental bluster stopped immediately, especially when the possible charges were read aloud.

The Chief of Police's son was sitting with his mother. The son was not only NOT given a break, but his father was harder on him. With the help of the city and the high school, suitable 'rehabilitations' were suggested and then quickly agreed to by most parents. The one father that didn't agree with it was 'over ruled' by his wife as well as his son.

Several months of weekly street and trail trash pickup were required of every offender. Some jocks were also now required to mentor younger and much less physically capable students. The food banks and social service agencies also received 'voluntary' help for a few months. In a few cases, the 'honor' students were now 'requested' to tutor some of the 'academically challenged' offenders and other students. There was a lot of crow that was very visibly eaten for weeks. There was no further trouble from this or any other of this group of young adults. This group also spent more time walking and biking around town. They lost their treasured driving privileges.

These experiences were a humbling experience for them and the rest of the school. In the end, no charges were filed, but being made into a public mockery was painful.

We were briefed before it happened and supported the Chief of Police with his reasoning and decision. Stupid kids deserve another chance. Second chances on the other hand...

Where we were really started to be worried was when we started to receive a larger number of more and more vicious e-mail threats as well as mailed threats. These contained realistic torture, dismemberment and death plans for us. Photos and scans of prepared equipment were prominently featured. We were warned that this was going to be our future if we testified. The District Attorney was called again. This was intimidating witnesses and it was not going to happen on his watch.

A week later the DA notified us that 4 men were arrested and were being held without bail. Several had minor records and two were on probation for various violent offences. They discovered several connections with the two gorillas. Additional charges against the linebackers were filed. All hate and intimation stopped abruptly.

It was also a week later when we got an in-person visit from my Choir Director. He asked if both of us would be open to a very private meeting with him and the pastor, Fr. Fred. Fr. Fred is really Fr. Federico. Fr. Fred emigrated from Honduras as an infant. He currently is in a 5 year assignment in the states. Then in two years, he'll return to the home he never remembered. Being a priest in the mountains of Honduras has been his dream. He'll have to explain why he speaks Spanish with an American accent. We agreed to the meeting and met them at the Rectory after 8PM. Linda's grandparents gladly volunteered for sitting duties.

After the initial greeting, Fr. Fred started. "I know that you both, and your parents and grandparents are in the middle of a media circus." We nodded yes. "I want to share something with you. There is another family in our parish that had a similar encounter with LaValliere and his team." Linda and I cringed as he went on. "I've been working with them for weeks and after your news hit, they asked me if they and their lawyer could contact you?" Linda looked shocked. I held her hand while Fr. Fred waited.

Here was someone, a family that was also abused by LaValliere, a family that we probably knew. I looked at Linda with questioning eyes, giving her the option, letting her know that I was OK with it. She squeezed my hand harder. Then she nodded yes to me while blotting the tears in her eyes. We both nodded yes to the priest too.

"I don't know if you have retained legal counsel, but they are a firm that several members of the parish have used." He cleared his throat and continued. "And I feel that they are trustworthy." It became very quiet.

My Choir Director looked at us. "In all transparency, my sister is one of the partners. And I would trust her with my life." His slightly embarrassed smile caused us all to smile. "In fact, I've done that several times."

Epilogue

After our meeting with the other family, and later their lawyer, we retained that law firm as our legal counsel.

A law group from the town where LaValliere last played started running ads. "If you were hurt by LaValliere or his team mates, call for a free consultation."

One of the first results that we got from the crime lab was that Linda's margarita had a full dose more than the amount Linda had slipped into her own drink. We still don't know how that happened, but our bet was on Morrison. He was the bartender the night we were there. During the course of the investigation, the police investigators found a stash of 30 roofies in Morrison's office. He was immediately charged, but released on $100,000 bail. His retired father returned to run the place. He knew that he had to keep the son away from the public and definitely the customers. He knew that he needed to build up his reputation and recreate good-will.

The owners of the Football club started out saying that they was appalled, but would wait for the trial. They immediately put LaValliere on paid leave. It was the off-season so the cost was minimal. The next day, 10% of the season ticket holders demanded refunds. Within a week, the local PTA issued a statement, calling attention to the YouTube videos as back up for their 'recommendation'. The next day, another 30% of the season ticket demanded refunds. It appears that even a winning football club was not worth drugging a PTA mom. The football club had been only marginally profitable before LaValliere. Their profits required increased concession sales. After all, when you are winning, do customers care about $15 beers and $12 hotdogs? Any loss in fans would be financially damaging. There were loan covenants that required certain operating measures be maintained. The club was now at risk of technical default.

Within one day, everyone at Morrison's that night was subpoenaed. The amount of cell phone footage was amazing. That's when LaValliere's other exploits started to come to light during Police interviews. Several linebackers attempted to leave the team, and the state. One made it back to Mexico to live with distant relatives. What can you say about someone who leaves a forwarding address for the return of his apartment security deposit?

Because our lawyers were cooperating with the law group at the other city, we found that the damage to LaValliere and the other football club was quickly escalating there too.

During all of this, Linda and I, her parents and the Grandparents retreated into the woodwork. The broken marriages and families and suspected drugging grabbed more headlines and we were left with less attention. What a blessing. Besides LaValliere, 'our' football club and Morrison's were also the target of several civil lawsuits. That is to say nothing about the newly embolden District Attorney. What a great way to get good publicity to get hired by bigger city.

Linda and I thought that this may have resurrected a number of marriages, here and in that other city. Maybe others that weren't drugged took the 'out' and became open to possibly entering counseling. Some of LaValliere's conquests never recovered their lives. The papers came up with two deaths because of LaValliere's prowling. One was a suicide of the wife and the other was a suicide of a husband. We found out the Go fund me pages were created in the surviving spouse's name for the kids. As part of our settlement, more 80% of our settlement was directed to be split with these two unfortunate families. Because of time and the lack of physical evidence, their lawsuits were not that strong.

Our lawyers told us that several families in our town contacted them to try to sue. Our lawyers rejected over half of them. Once it was discovered that the 'evening away with LaValliere' was openly discussed with gusto, the cases were rejected. The cases where the behavior was consistent with the date rape drug as well as supported by "appropriate personal and family interactions", the cases were taken.

A night away and nobody got hurt and everything was going to be Ok in the morning. Yea. Right.

As the weeks and months went on by, the insurance companies for the football clubs and Morrison's settled. After those settlements, their insurance limits were quickly reached. That means that the owners' luck officially ran out. With their loan covenants in violation, the clubs went into receivership and sold to pay off the loans and additional settlements. Quick thinking bankruptcy lawyers salvaged some of the lenders equity. All in all, everybody took a financial bath. At the sale, the tainted goods brought in low prices. Bottom feeders realized that a visible 'clean out' of the previous owners, AND PERSONNEL, they stood a chance to make a serious go of it. Morrison's barely survived. The owner's son went for an extended vacation (prison) while the owner's retirement came to a halt.

LaValliere got 12 years in part because of the amount of Rohypnol that was found in his Corvette, on his person and much more in his house. We never went near his house. Several different linebackers had 'accompanied' LaValliere on his 'hunting trips' one time or another, but only three were needed to turn states evidence against the club Owners.

As the testimony increased, the number of football players indicted increased. Several decided to testify for the prosecution to minimize their jail time. This was great for families that did not have great hard evidence. These football players testified and LaValliere got convicted for several of his drug fuelled 'conquests'. Not all big linebackers are lacking intelligence. Some kept private video or audio of their directions from LaValliere and football club management.

Most that plead guilty were given one year in prison and five years of probation. Those that immediately confessed and offered to immediately testify were given suspended sentences with 2 years of probation. The three that were given total immunity testified at the owners trials. The owners were sentenced to 10 years in a downstate (rural) prison. As I refer to them now, our two gorillas were not that lucky. They each got 5 years. Drugs were found in their cars and on their persons. We weren't part of that.

In the end, LaValliere was bankrupted. He had more judgments then financial resources. He was not given bail and ended up going directly to the state pen from his first trial.

For the owners of both clubs, running a criminal enterprise was one of the many charges that stuck. The fines and restitution wiped out any resources that the club owners had left. Their wives took all they could in their divorces before their convictions. The owners didn't bother with and couldn't afford costly and futile appeals. The restaurant manager also served two years in prison for, in addition to other charges, conspiracy in a drug enterprise. Most of his staff testified that they had been directed to cover for LaValliere's actions.

A year after a destitute LaValliere entered the downstate prison, Linda and I went to visit him. He had no idea who we were until he saw us. I guess that his ego was hurting as no one adored him so he agreed to see anyone that would see him. Once he figured out who we were, he sneered. "What do you want?"

Linda smiled politely while I just chuckled and asked "How's your career going?" He just glared. Linda began, "I'd just like to thank you for all you've done. You've been so helpful." He glared. "Are you finished? I'm done here." He stood up and turned around and started walking.

Linda shouted out. "You've really got a shitty phone."

Walking an additional two steps, he stopped suddenly and turned around. He got it. He remembered. "I'll get you for what you did to me." He spoke quietly.

"While you're biding your time here in prison, there's a new website you should look at. LaVallieresFuture. com It's the 'Waiting for LaValliere to get out of prison' fan club. That fan club keeps growing. Some of the marriages that you fucked with have older children that are now entering college. That is to say nothing about friends, relatives, husbands and even some wives. These people are available right now." He glared at Linda. "Remember asshole, we're a hunting community. They will be waiting for you to leave."

Then I spoke up, "Remember, no one got hurt for just one night? They don't think so. So no, you won't get either of us. You'll never get a chance. There are too many people in line ahead of us that want to 'talk with you'." I used my fingers to create visual quotation marks around the words talk with you. "And they are patiently waiting for you. Hunters are like that. Patiently waiting for the buck to come into range.

"With your Sex Offender reporting requirements, your location will always be public knowledge. If it is not known, it'll be prison once you are discovered." We looked as his angry face turn pale. He was now going to live in fear. He realized that he would now forever be the prey. That really felt good. Linda waved goodbye as we walked away. He has another 11 years to go, maybe 7 with good behavior.

We will be waiting and watching for him too.