Walking around in the city streets of Baton Rouge listening to his Walkman , Ken David could feel the rainy day on the horizon. You could almost taste the water and heated asphalt in the air , and that mixture was nostalgic to say the least. The city had a dull, and artificial hum , beneath the honking horns , chirping birds, and distant yammering. ” Extra Extra read all about it , America is going to war” said the Newspaper Vendor . ” Get your copy right away.” What the hell? How could it be that we were going to war. Everything seemed so peaceful. He knew that those were the times when things especially went south. Ken continues to ponder introspectively for a moment. Get the hell out of my god damn way! Ken knocked over a crate with magazines, and newspapers stacked on top of it. The newspaper vender grasped a bunch of loose papers as they fell to the ground. ” why did you have to go and do that? ” The Newspaper Vendors’ name was Han Dynamo , and He was the most bad ass Martial Artist who ever stepped foot in the Baton Rouge city dojo. I do not wish to fight you Han said, in a somber tone. Ken drunkenly staggered toward a phonebooth, and pissed himself . ” You better not, or else I’m going to kick your god damn ass boy” Han looked at Ken distastefully. “Please move along. ” And in the softest voice possible said “you don’t want none of this” . Ken looked up at the tall handsome , soft-spoken newspaper vendor.
What the fuck you say to me , you little prick? “you heard what the fuck I said. replied Han.