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October, 1997
There is this small area somewhere around West Monroe, Louisiana, called Baulkomville. For about a year, Xopher lived there. He called it "The most Redneck area in the city". A completly white community (Blacks were run out a week after they move in). They were racist, Insestial Hicks, also known as Baulkomites. Xopher is there for about a month, and his family makes a friend of their neighbor; A girl by the name of Bridget, who pretty much lives by herself. One day, about six or seven months in to living there, Xopher hears alot of racket over at Bridget's house. He looks outside and sees about twelve Drunken Rednecks bangin on her door. It didn't take much thinking for him to see that this did not bode well; so he grabs his katana, and snuck to the back of Bridgets house. He finds Bridget in her bedroom, terrified. She said this wasn't the first time this had happened. They had gangbanged her twice already. Needless to say, Xopher was NOT happy. So he walks to the front door from inside the house. He looks through the peep-hole to see that they're still out there. One is at the door trying to jar it loose. Xopher unlocks the door, and kicks it open. The one holding the door goes flying off the steps onto his a**. Xopher draws out the blade and calls out to them, "Who's First?"

That was the night that sparked the event that would later be known as "The Baulkomite War".

June, 1998.
After the events that unfolded that night, Bridget lived with Xopher's family for about two weeks. During that time, Xopher's house became a target for beer bottles and bricks. Xopher tends to keep his problems hidden from other people, including myself; But, it was when his family was put in danger that I, then, stepped in to help. It was around this time that blood was mixed with the beer on the streets. Little scirmishes were fought here and there. One time Xopher took the stock of a shotgut to his head. An instant later, that same person took a broadsword to the hand (Thnx to me). His mom had then confiscated the shotgun that was dropped. Ha, they were so stupid that they were using their guns as clubs. A few days later, Xopher's mom bought something called AMMO. A day after that, due to that fact that one of the enemy's larger dogs kind of exploded (She has really good aim), the attacks on the house seaced for a while.

Then, a few days later, things had gotten to the point of no return. We had gone to a clearing fairly deep in a forest. Only things there were two large mounds of dirt on each side, and about a football feild's distance between them. We went there with a couple of wooden swords to train and spar, because of the open ground. We were at one of the mounds when it happened. Out from the trees, there they were; at least fifty Balkomites, with redneck weapons for most of them: Moltov Cocktails, Bats, clubs, Broken Beer Bottles, even Huge bottle rockets. They looked ready for a lynching.

Fifty of them against Xopher and Myself, the final battle between the two of us and the Baulkomites had come.

Xopher spent his time countering the projectiles: Moltov cocktails that didn't break were tosse back at them. Bottle rockets were knocked away. I just stood there, waiting; waiting for something I didn't even know I was waiting for, until it came. In the midst of the drunken numbers, there was a straight path between the mounds. With wodden sword in hand, I lunged forward for the mound, cutting as many down as my weapon could reach. I reached the other side, waited, and did it again.

This went on for about six hours.

Xopher was getting tired, and I was too. In a desperate attempt to end the fight, he was holding two moltov cocktails when I approached him with the other wooden sword. I gave one to him, and we poured the contents of the bottles onto them. We charged into the fray with blades of fire. every hard swing that didn't connect with anything, sent a spray of fire. Beer bottles thrown at us were batted back so hard, they shattered, sending fire and molten glass to the faces of 6 or 7 of them at a time. The battle had become one-sided, in our favor. They ran; they were smart enough to know when they were beaten. We only chased them so far, until we were the only ones left in the clearing. It was well past midnight at this time. We dropped what was left of the wooden swords and left them to burn on the ground. We then saw flashing blue lights. Apparently somebody had alerted the police of the event. We ran in an opposing direction and circled around to get to his house. We had made it there with enough time to clean ourselves up.

August, 1998
By the end of it all, The cops didn't even think we were there when It all went down. "Just a bunch of drunks being stupid." they said. A few of them confessed to Bridget's rape, and a large group of them were charged with destruction of property to the clearing and Xophers house. Xopher lived there a month longer before they moved back to Monroe.

The Baulkomite War...

I was 13.