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  • Gutter Punk: Young And Homeless

    Chapter 10

    By Punkerslut

    No Police State
    Image: From "Anarchy" Gallery from FreedomInYourMind

    Start Date: April 26, 2003
    Finish Date: January 27, 2004

    The camera slowly fades out, as it pans out across the stars, and Gunner does a voice over...

    GUNNER, VOICE OVER: It seemed almost like we lived unrealistically. We cared more about getting fucked up than getting fed. Kids would say something like, "The feeding will keep us fed," and end up getting drunk, wasted, or fucked up in some way, and missing the feeding. It's not unusual for someone to miss food for days, or even weeks, at a time. I've done it. Not because I was obsessed with alcohol and drugs. I know where my priorities are. Getting fucked up is an important part of life, but shoplifting food is also important, so that even if I don't get fed, my family will. And that is important to me.

    The camera fades in to the group of skins and Gunner walking down the street. The mood is cheerful, optimistic. All of them are sharing a big bag of wine.

    JOE: I was flying a sign yesterday, trying to get some spare change, and some lady was ready to take me home.

    GUNNER (laughing): Bullshit, motherfucker... I've yet to see any woman want to fuck a homeless gutter punk.

    NASH: Nah, man, I was there, I saw it. I couldn't believe my fucking eyes.

    GUNNER: Shit, man. I guess it's possible, but unlikely.

    JOE: You're telling me. I nearly creamed my fucking pants.

    STICKER: What? Ladies with apartments always try to take me home and it never phases me.

    Nash pushes Sticker jokingly.

    NASH (laughing): Get the fuck outta' here.

    GUNNER: How much cash she give you?

    JOE: She actually gave me a twenty.

    GUNNER: Right the fuck on. I heard about yuppies giving twenties to homeless kids and homebums. But it's rare. You have to look real fucking poor.

    JOE: You're telling me. I crawled out of a bush that I passed out in, while still in a trash bag that I was sleeping in, and I saw some chick walking by. I pulled out my sign as fast as I could, and asked for spare change.

    NASH: Fuckin' A, man. The homebums call this kid "quickdraw."

    JOE: And hey, I earned that fuckin' name, all right?

    STICKER (laughing): Don't be so fuckin' proud.

    NASH: At least Sticker has a name that's worth something.

    GUNNER: How did he get that?

    JOE: Hey, I'm in the middle of a fucking story, okay?

    STICKER (holding his hands up sarcastically as though he's under threat, but grinning widely all the time): Okay, okay...

    JOE: So, I'm in a trash bag that I slept in, and I flash out my sign, asking for spare change. The sign says, "Please Feed The Hungry." I was flying the sign at this black woman who stops by and stands in front of me. She hands me a twenty, saying something like, "I hope this gets you some warm food at McDonald's. Or if you want, I can take you home and cook you some dinner." I said, "Nah, I'm all right, thanks, though." Nash was just chilling on the sidewalk a few feet up.

    NASH: I saw it, bro. Un-fucking-believable.

    GUNNER: So why the fuck did you not go home with her?

    JOE: Fuck niggers, man.

    GUNNER: What? Fuck Racism!

    NASH: We're all Nazi skinheads here.

    JOE: Can't you tell we're Nazi skins?

    GUNNER: No, dude. Have you heard of RASH, Radical Anarchist SkinHeads? And what about SHARP, SkinHeads Against Racial Prejudice? Besides that, being a skin means shit about being Racist. I just thought you were a bunch of cool skins, that's all.

    STICKER: Fuck SHARP! I get my name because I've drawn more swastikas on public walls than any other Nazi skin.

    GUNNER: Fuck SHARP? Fuck Hitler and the Nazi Death Squads!

    NASH: Fuck Crass.

    The camera watches as Gunner gets close to Joe's face and shouts, "Nazi punks... Nazi punks... Nazi punks... Fuck off!" As he says this, the song "Nazi Punks Fuck Off" by the Dead Kennedys starts to play, his words following theirs. Once he says this, Nash from behind him pushes him forward. He turns around and punches Nash in the mouth, beginning the next voice over for Gunner. He turns around again and Joe tries to punch him in the face, but he blocks the hit, and punches Joe in the face. After this, Sticker grabs his arms from behind and holds him. Nash is on the ground. Joe regains his stamina after a few seconds. All the while this goes on, Gunner is doing his voice over. Joe grabs Gunner by the collar and says, "This one is for the German death squads," and punches Gunner in the face. He gets a bloody nose. Still holding Gunner and catching his breath somewhat, Joe says, "This one is for the Aryan race," and punches Gunner in the rib cage. The camera freezes and the music stops. The voice over that was being done is as follows...

    GUNNER, VOICE OVER: Nazi punks are still gutter punks, like the rest of us. They're homeless as much as we are. But street punks and the homeless hate them, almost universally. This incident reminds me very much of something that happened two years ago.

    The camera shifts to daytime on a basketball court. Two Nazi skinheads (one with a big swastika on the back of his coat) are standing over a Hispanic girl and an African girl, who are lying on the ground. They're shouting, "Get up, try to run!" while they're kicking them. The Dead Kennedys song has stopped, and now "Ordinary People Do Fucked Up Things When Fucked Up Things Become Ordinary" by Propagandhi is playing. On voice over, Gunner says, "Convinced of their own racial superiority, and that mercilessness is a virtue, Nazi punks will look for non-whites and they will fight them." Then Gunner and Kevin (whose mohawk is shorter, since it is years earlier) run onto the court. Kevin pulls out a lead pipe from underneath his jacket and screams, "Wake up, Nazi scum! It's time to die!" He swings the pipe across the face of one of the Nazis, and then back again; the Nazi skinhead falls to the ground. Gunner runs up to the other, punches him in the stomach. The Nazi responds with punching Gunner in the face, and trying to punch him again, but the second shot is blocked, and Gunner returns it with punching him in the face. As soon as both Nazis are preoccupied with the peace punk and the gutter punk, the two non-white females run. The camera then looks back to Kevin, who is pelting the back of the Nazi on the ground with the pipe. Then looking back to Gunner, he's holding the Nazi by the collar, and punching him, while the Nazi is on his knees, and bleeding all over. Then Kevin runs up from behind and slams the pipe into the Nazi's back, who falls onto the ground. They boot stomp him for a few seconds, and then Gunner yells, "Come on! Let's get the fuck out of here!" and they both run. The camera and music freeze as both Gunner and Kevin are running, Kevin still holding the lead pipe. Gunner does a voice over.

    GUNNER, VOICE OVER: Kevin found that pipe in the plumbing of a squat. He said it's always a good method for procuring a weapon for combat.

    The camera then shifts back to the scene of Gunner being held by the Nazi skins and getting beat. Still being held by Sticker, Nash still on the ground, and Joe still in front of him. Gunner does a brief voice over of, "So we fought back. I mean, what the fuck were we supposed to do? Let them trample over our rights? No way. Freak sure as shit isn't all white, and if anyone or anything threatens the people I live and sleep with, I have a message for them." The camera unfreezes.

    JOE: And this one is for mein fuhrer.

    Joe looks up and to his right, just in time to see Tank come in and plow him down. Gunner, now seeing a hope to the battle, struggles even more, and manages to break free. He punches Sticker in the face, in the stomach, and in the throat. Sticker falls to the ground and he begins to gutter stomp him. Nash gets up, and punches Gunner from behind. Tank pushes Nash so he's facing him, and then punches him in the face one, knocking him to the ground. They both continue gutter stomping for several seconds. Then Tank stops, and pulls Gunner off of Nash. He's holding him by his shirt, the front part, pulling him away from the fight. "Leave it!" Tank yells. Then once it looks like Gunner has a good hold of himself, Tank walks over to the fight scene, picks up the bag of wine ("spacebag"), and gives it to Gunner. They both flee the scene. The two are walking down the street, talking. Dried blood is on Gunner's nose.

    TANK: What the fuck were you doing hanging out with those Nazi skinheads?

    GUNNER: Shit, man, nobody told me they were Nazis. Barf introduced me to them.

    TANK: Barf is a fuckin' hippy who thinks that Satan can be a good person.

    GUNNER: Thanks for saving my ass, though, man.

    TANK: Hey, no problem. You were fucking bold back there, taking on three Nazis with nothing but your two fists. I use to love to fight, but then I won every fight and people sort of looked to me as a referee to make sure nothing dirty goes down. I became the responsible one, and I learned to detest fighting and violence.

    GUNNER: I don't think I could ever give up my love of violence, fighting, and blood. After four hard years of street life, it's in my veins, and I don't think it'll ever leave me, no matter what city I travel to or who my friends are... Here, you want a shwill of this spacebag?

    Gunner holds up the bag of wine.

    TANK: Nah, man, you earned that.

    Gunner takes a shwill of the bag and the camera slowly moves out, watching them walk down an alley together. Gunner does a voice over. The song "Youth of the Modern World" by Justin Sane starts to play before Gunner starts the voice over.

    GUNNER, VOICE OVER: It's true, we're all violent motherfuckers. Most of us anyway. I wasn't always like this. As a young high school punk, I was afraid of fighting. When it came to me, my heart would speed up to a thousand miles an hour, and I would do anything to avoid it. I believed that nobody should ever respond violently to another... Oh, how I've changed. I've been conditioned by the environment I live in. Up and down these god-forsaken streets of these American cities, tasting concrete and eating cement -- facing the muggers, the Pedophiles who don't take no for an answer, the other drunk gutter punks looking for a fight. I was scared, but several months passed by, and I became hard. I could take a punch in the face by anyone, a stab wound in the side, a broken piece of furniture over my forehead, and I could still turn around and take you down. I didn't lose the ability to love. I could still find beauty and affection in women. I was not disenchanted with the idea of life. I just became hard and violent. I still believe that violence is wrong, but this is a mental conviction. My instincts have otherwise been changed. Some nights, I wished I didn't change. I'm not really sure what I think now.

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