The execution-style murder of former MOVE member, 34 year old John Gilbride Jr., in Maple Shade, New Jersey on September 27, 2002 remains unsolved. MOVE is a black liberation group founded in 1972 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania by John Africa (born Vincent Leaphart) and Donald Glassey, a social worker student from the University of Pennsylvania. In a 2018 Guardian article about the group, MOVE's political views were described as "a strange fusion of black power and flower power which melded the revolutionary ideology of the Black Panthers with the nature- and animal-loving communalism of 1960s hippies.” John’s father, Jack, believes the organization has “blood on its hands” and had his son followed after he fled the movement. Alberta Africa (now Wonderlin), John’s ex-wife and the ex-wife of MOVE founder John Africa, claims that John is alive and “forgoing any contact with the son he was fighting for in court for a life of seclusion, courtesy of the U.S. government” surmising “maybe he went off the deep end or something and is hiding somewhere….he seemed like he was deeply involved in the government.” Jack stated that it is hurtful Alberta still makes those kinds of statements since he identified his son's body, attended his funeral, and buried his cremated remains saying he “could only wish…she knows more than anyone else that it isn't true." According to the Burlington County Prosecutor’s office, the case is still an open investigation.
John, a baggage supervisor for U.S. Airways, was found dead inside his Ford Crown Victoria at 12:08 a.m. outside the Ryan's Run apartment complex in Maple Shade, New Jersey. The killer fired multiple bullets into John’s head and chest at close range from an automatic weapon after which the individual then disappeared into the highways adjacent to the apartment complex leaving behind John’s personal belongings. Police believe the killer knew his schedule because “they were there at the perfect time” noting they shot him just as he was coming home from work late at night and “the purpose was to take his life, nothing else.” John was scheduled to have his first unsupervised visit with his 6- year old son Zackary later the next day-a visit that Jack claims Alberta and other MOVE members had threatened to stop. After a Philadelphia judge decided that John should have unsupervised time with Zackary, MOVE vowed to fight the order and boarded up windows at its Philadelphia headquarters. They also held a rally at the Cherry Hill municipal building protesting the custody order saying the judge’s order was “an attempt to persecute the group and that Cherry Hill police were helping.” John had mentioned to his father that he felt his life was at risk and he knew “he was taking a big gamble.” Before Alberta married John, she was the widow of John Africa, founder and leader of the controversial radical group MOVE. John Africa and 5 other adults and 5 children died in May 1985 when Philadelphia police dropped a bomb on MOVE’s Osage Avenue rowhouse headquarters after a day-long standoff. Given the group's turbulent history, Alberta said police would have arrested MOVE members by now for John’s death if they had evidence saying “we are not murderers.”
John first learned about MOVE as a student at Temple University in the late 1980s and later joined the organization. During one of John's visits from college, Jack suspected John was under a "new influence" as during a drive around the neighborhood, John mused "this is nothing...these big houses, this money, it doesn't mean anything; this surprised Jack as John's "goal in life had always been to become a millionaire and drive a Cadillac." In 1991, John announced he was going to live in MOVE's headquarters and seeing that they could nothing to dissuade him, Jack decided to "keep communication open and maintain whatever relationship John would allow them" using an 800 number to keep in contact. In the fall of 1992, John married Alberta, who was twice his age, against his family's wishes; the family, nonetheless, felt the wedding should be celebrated so they all went to dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in Philadelphia. Jack noted that "at no time did we sympathize with MOVE but in order to have a relationship with John, we did what we had to do."
The name of the group (MOVE) is not an acronym and was chosen by John Africa “to say what they intended to do” as in "everything that's alive moves…if it didn't, it would be stagnant, dead"; as an example, when members greet each other they say "on the MOVE.". The group combined revolutionary ideology with animal rights and “advocated a return to a hunter-gatherer society” based on vegetarianism while remaining “opposed to science, medicine, and technology.” John’s followers changed their surnames to Africa to “show reverence to what they regarded as their mother continent.” John Africa and MOVE members lived in a communal house in the Powelton Village section of West Philadelphia. As activists, they staged bullhorn-amplified, profanity-laced demonstrations outside their homes against institutions that they opposed, such as zoos, circuses, “Three Mile Island”, “puppy mills” and police brutality. MOVE made compost piles of garbage and human waste in their yards which attracted rats and cockroaches that they refused to kill as they "considered it morally wrong to kill the vermin with pest control.” MOVE activities were scrutinized by law enforcement particularly under the administration of Philadelphia Mayor Frank Rizzo, a former police commissioner known for hard stance against activist groups. Mayor Rizzo threatened in 1978 to dispatch his Police Department to MOVE's Powelton Village headquarters "to drag 'em out by the back of their necks."
In 1978, complaints from neighbors about "profanity-laced tirades, arms stockpiling, garbage piled in the yard, and naked children" led to a standoff with members of the group who had not vacated their rowhouse headquarters; a resulting shootout took the life of a police officer and put nine MOVE members in prison for life. In 1981, MOVE relocated to a row house at 6221 Osage Avenue in the Cobbs Creek area of West Philadelphia. Neighbors again complained to the city about trash around their building, confrontations, and the obscene political messages by bullhorn. In 1985, the police obtained arrest warrants in 1985 charging four MOVE occupants with crimes including parole violations, contempt of court, illegal possession of firearms, and making terrorist threats; by now, Mayor Wilson Goode and police commissioner Gregore J. Sambor had classified the group as a terrorist organization. Residents of the area were evacuated from the neighborhood and told to return after 24 hours.
On Monday, May 13, 1985, nearly five hundred police officers attempted to clear the building and execute the arrest warrants. Water and electricity were shut off in order to force MOVE members out of the house and Commissioner Sambor exhorted them to come out stating "Attention MOVE: This is America. You have to abide by the laws of the United States." When the MOVE members did not respond, the police decided to forcibly remove the members from the house. There was an armed standoff with police who lobbed tear gas canisters at the building. The MOVE members fired at them, and a gunfight with semi-automatic and automatic firearms ensued. Police went through over ten thousand rounds of ammunition when Commissioner Sambor decided the rowhouse could be bombed. From a Pennsylvania State Police helicopter, Philadelphia Police Department Lt. Frank Powell dropped two one-pound bombs made of FBI-supplied Tovex, a dynamite substitute, which targeted a fortified, bunker-like cubicle on the roof of the house. The resulting explosions ignited a fire from fuel for a gasoline-powered generator stored in the rooftop bunker. The fire spread and eventually destroyed 61 nearby houses. Officials said they feared that MOVE would shoot at the firefighters so they were held back. John Africa and 5 other adults and 5 children died. There were only two survivors; a child, Birdie Africa and an adult woman, Ramona Africa.
John Gilbride eventually left the movement and filed for divorce from Alberta in 1999 which led to years of heated court battles over custody of Zackary; John also filed for bankruptcy. John had gone deep into debt paying for in-vitro fertility treatments as they were desperately trying to have a child. John had also grown frustrated with "MOVE's meddling in his marriage" which "staged hours-long interventions" whenever the couple argued. According to Jack, the timing of the murder and the custody dispute is “more than a coincidence.” Philadelphia Police Captain William Fisher, the head of the department’s civil rights division who knows the MOVE leaders well, stated that John’s murder “seemed like a textbook mob hit” and John had a gambling problem and other enemies as well; Jack dismisses Captain Fisher’s claims saying he did a "disservice to the investigation" and “was simply trying to ease the department’s relationship with MOVE”. Captain Fisher continues to doubt that MOVE was involved saying Jack wants to think that “MOVE did it because it solves his problem…I’m a parent too, and it’s an emotional thing.” He believes a professional gunman could have known of John’s problems with MOVE and could have timed the murder accordingly saying if MOVE was involved, they would not have “outsourced the job to someone outside their organization.” He acknowledges “there was a lot of rhetoric and everything else, but keep it in perspective, it's a child custody thing” saying MOVE's members "defend themselves when needed but do not go out and kill people." Captain Fisher suggested a trip to Las Vegas a few days before his death needed to be looked into further; Jack avers John went to Las Vegas for an Earth, Wind, and Fire concert. John also had a "secret..and brief" second marriage to Rosario Bienvenida Arias-a 24-year-old casino dealer from the Dominican Republic. They married in Maryland on April 25, 2002, but, according to the annulment initiated by John May 19,2002, "she used him and then fled the country." The marriage had not been "nullified by the time John died, so as his widow, Rosario-not Zack-collected death benefits."
Others disagree such as former MOVE supporter Tony Allen who runs an anti-MOVE blog; he believes MOVE would never have put someone in their closest family circles at risk by killing John and would have given that task to a supporter saying “my hope is that there's people in and about MOVE whose consciences will eat away at them." Burlington County Prosecutor Robert Bernardi mentioned that MOVE members had been questioned in the investigation but did not comment further. In 2012 the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that John had told friends and family that he had recorded incriminating evidence in a notebook as "security against a hit" by MOVE. John said he had placed the notebook inside a locker for safekeeping. Jack confirmed one of John’s coworkers had contacted him and he tried to get police to search the locker but to no avail. At the time, Prosecutor Bernardi had no comment when pressed on the topic. It is unclear if the locker was ever searched.
In a 2009 news article, Jack mentioned that he continues to speak with investigators every three weeks but acknowledged "they get tired of telling me there's nothing new." Zackary, at the time 13 years old, was “a happy home-schooled teen, active in swimming and fencing.” In the interview, Alberta admitted that her son continues to miss his father recalling how they “found a picture of his dad, and he just fell into me..he's a big boy, but he was in tears. She also says "the tears she cried for John were real in 2002" and she continues to feels his absence noting that she remarried after John’s death, “not out of love, but to give her son a stable home.”
Jack said “his life has been anything but stable” since his son's death. His wife, Fran, died of cancer two years after his son was killed, and he speaks to Zack only once every three to six months. He knows that “wishing his son were still alive is pointless” so he focuses on resolving the case so Zack can come back into his life saying “he's been raised by MOVE his whole life. I hope when he gets older, he'll ask questions. I want him to know that his father fought for him."
Anyone with information about John’s murder can contact the Burlington County Prosecutor's Office at 609-265- 7113.
Questions:
Do we know more about John's gambling debts and other enemies he supposedly had? There is much discussion on the MOVE angle but I really couldn't find much information on any other theories besides the statement made by Captain Fisher.
Was John's locker ever searched?
Links:
https://www.inquirer.com/philly/news/20090926_Slaying_of_ex-MOVEr_still_roils_feelings_7_years_later.html
https://www.theintelligencer.com/news/article/Man-in-Custody-Battle-Shot-to-Death-10572580.php
https://www.inquirer.com/philly/blogs/inq-blinq/A-clue-hidden-in-a-lost-locker.html
https://www.inquirer.com/philly/hp/news_update/20140928_A_slain_man__a_lost_son_and_a_grandfather_s_quest.html
https://culteducation.com/group/1060-move/14601-breaking-silence-over-a-sons-slaying.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MOVE#2002_murder_of_John_Gilbride
http://antimove.blogspot.com/2012/09/?m=1
https://www.religionnewsblog.com/4623/unsolved-death-angers-move-grieves-parents
https://www.vox.com/the-highlight/2019/8/8/20747198/philadelphia-bombing-1985-move
https://www.inquirer.com/philly/entertainment/20131020_A_haunting_look_at_when_Phila__burned.html
https://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/02/movies/let-the-fire-burn-relives-1985-siege-of-the-move-group.html
https://www.phillymag.com/news/2014/02/27/birdie-africa-lost-boy/
http://kalamu.com/neogriot/2015/05/13/history-lest-we-forget-today-is-the-30th-anniversary-of-the-bombing-of-move/
MOVE has been “an anomaly in Philadelphia ever since it was founded, in the mid-1970s, by a white graduate student who became enthralled with the musings of a local black handyman who took the name John Africa and held beliefs ranging from vegetarianism to odd bathing rituals to preparation for worldwide racial conflict.” Several city officials were reprimanded in an investigation which called “dropping a bomb on an occupied row house…unconscionable” but none were criminally charged for the bombing. The 61 destroyed homes were rebuilt with government funds ($35 milion) but the houses were eventually condemned since a potential carbon monoxide leak was found in the heating systems. In 2000, the city paid again to buy out the residents and move them.
Ramona Africa, the only adult who came out of the house fire alive (along with 13-year old Birdie Africa), served seven years in prison for her role in the confrontation. As she stood outside MOVE's current house in 2013, she dismissed the notion that the home had code violations stating “they say it is a fire hazard but the only fire MOVE has ever been involved with is the one the city of Philadelphia set on May 13, 1985."

This one is a doozy...
So, a fateful day around 2010ish I was in that dingleberry of a swampy butthole of land known as Fort Polk doing my train up for a deployment. That's a fucking story in itself.
Anyhow, the end of the rotation had occurred, the war against whatever made up name country was won, and we were returning from Polky-land to our dependapotamuses. I was on a contact high as I was personally selected to be a part of my Battalion Commander's personal security detachment and all our joes were hand-selected by the Platoon Leader, Platoon Sergeant, and myself so we had a really awesome platoon. How awesome? When we did an escort mission with the Chaplain meeting with local religious leader, at the end, our division chaplain told us that "You guys fucking rocked that shit. Gave me a fucking hardon. That's what this division is all about. Fuck yeah."
Preach on brother.
Fast forward, fast forward.
Anyhow, my Platoon Sergeant came to me and told me I needed to go to the bay where my Commander and First Sergeant were. My first thought was of deep consideration and reflection.
"Shit." This can't be good.
When I arrive, my First Sergeant's first question to me "Do you have government travel card?" I nodded a confirmation from our Operation BS in Egypt. He looks at me and says "No, you don't." What fucking Jedi mindtrick is this? Did I forget to pay off a debt? Will I be summoned straight to the Division CSM for a beheading as seems to be the operating procedure whenever government travel cards payments come into question. Casually, my commander slides a brigade memorandum towards me and motions for me to read it.
I start reading and realize it's a tasking memorandum stating what each company will provide from brigade.
Alpha Company...
Two NCOs and three soldiers. "Suckers."
Bravo Company...
Three soldiers. "Nerds."
Charlie Company...
Three E6 NCOs. "Lol, loooossers..."
Delta Company...
Staff Sergeant Pickleindabutt. "well fuck me in the butt."
BY NAME?! I was the only fucking individual chosen by MY GOD DAMN FULL NAME in this memorandum. How does brigade even know I exist? Why am I being tasked directly? Who put this memo together and how the fuck did they know my name. Who the fuck volun-told my name without me receiving a whisper of such curse. Suddenly it dawned on me and I realized what this tasking needed me for.
"^hazmat"
Apparently I was the only person in brigade who could effectively fill out the forms for our HAZMAT containers. It started where I was just doing it for the company, moved to me declaring for battalion, and now BRIGADE is tracking me. AMO-62 qualification got me again and I was hand selected because my paperwork was the only one that kept getting cleared so they came after me.
My dudes and dudettes, I literally volunteered for this course to get me out of a field exercise so I could watch the SEC championship - no shit. I was a dumb grunt and I didn't even know what the course was and just wanted to get my Roll Tide on. I get there for class and they're like "This is for declaring hazardous material for shipment by land, sea, air, teleportation pods, Skynet time travel, and rail." My dumb ass E5 self was like "Lol, when the hell does any infantry dude declare HAZMAT. Cake."
A week later I was declaring HAZMAT for my brigade to Haiti so shows how well I could foreshadow things. You know how my paperwork always made it through? Let's break down the process.
Me arrive. Me find MSDSs for hazmat. Me find civilian inspector who is overshadowing the process.
"Yo, how do you want me to fill this out." Everyone else would be digging around the CFR 49 and I was just like "Lol, I can't read. Let me find the civilian who makes a career of this and ask them." And that's how I became the HAZMAT guy.
Fast forward, fast forward.
So now I'm part of a tasking that is ensuring our containers make it out of Beaumont, Texas. I already came to Polk on advance parties where I basically had AT&T screaming at me to stop using data while I watched all the episodes of Breaking Bad that was available at the time. Now I'm not even the rear detachment, I'm the past - I'm on fucking ice basically, a forgotten artifact of my brigade's Polk rotation. "Yall remember that one Staff Sergeant?... He told funny jokes... Whatever happened to him? I seem to recall him telling his soldiers to run over g-men at Polk whenever they surrounded his humvee while blatantly ignoring that a 50 cal was rocking them the whole time and then he just... vanished."
Fast forward, fast forward.
Me and two others will be grabbing a rental and driving to Beaumont. God damnit, I deploy in a few weeks and I'm already getting less time with my succubus future exwife that has a spending habit that makes Target wet thinking about it. Anyway, they move me to the brigade's bay. If you've never been to Polk, they have these hangers where they just stick a metric-fuck-ton of bunk beds when you're field rotation is over and you're either leaving or preparing for war with the g-men. The g-men are the Louisiana equivalent of Taliban and should never be trusted. They call themselves soldiers but they are the true enemy. While you're sludging through the swamps and wondering if you're in Vietnam, they come out of no where with their significantly enhanced miles laser gear and somehow your miles can never kill them. You just hear the beep of death of your gear to inform you that traitorous scum g-men nailed you. Probably for killing a Staff Sergeant they get a three day weekend or something.
So, here I am in the brigade headquarters and we just acquired a rental car with a fellow NCO and fresh out of the officer-oven Lieutenant. Lieutenant asks a fateful question "You guys want to go off base." Unfortunately I came to fight the g-men and did not know I was going to be traveling so I had no civilian clothes. So, we agree to go to Wal-Mart in town so I can buy the cheapest of the cheap threads since my wife at the time absolutely had to buy "live, laugh, love" useless items from retail stores at an alarming rate.
Listen to me, Polk is the middle of no where. It is a fucking swamp. I hated going there. I literally would shake the hands of people stationed there and tell them "You're in my thoughts and prayers." The place has a random wild horse herd and farm animals all over the place because people just dump their animals there. I had never left the base before and when we drove off I was basically like "Oh my..." It was like driving into a Flannery O'Connor novel but with strip clubs. There is absolutely nothing in Leesville but several strip clubs, a Wal-Mart, some shitty steakhouse, and trailers. Listen, I'm from Alabama and I was even like "Fuck. This isn't even deep south this is deepest south."
So anyway, I buy the literal cheapest threads from Wal-Mart for my journey to Beaumont and we decide to go into one of the strip clubs for a few drinks and... holy shit, this place was the most Jabba the Hutt's palace experience I have ever had except instead of Leia they had Jaba on the poles. I quietly order a beer, get propositioned for a backroom dance from a human opossum and could only quietly respond "No thank you I'm Christian" in an attempt to ward off others, and wonder how the fuck am I going to get this LT to drink his beer faster so we can fucking leave.
Fast forward, fast forward.
We finally arrived to Beaumont and check in our hotel. I'm suffering from a wicked hangover from the night before in Lake Charles which had about 10 women for each male at the bar we went to. When we get to the hotel, we all agree that we just want to get some food and the clerk recommends this Cajun themed restaurant down the road. We go there and there were no tables but three open seats at the bar so we chose that. As always, Army guys are only just going to talk about the fucking Army so we proceed with our usual dose of bitching and whinnying.
Suddenly, this older gent leads forward sitting beside us and says "YALL IN THE SERVICE?!"
"Sure 'nuff."
"YALL DEPLOYED!?"
"We have and we're heading back to Iraq in a few months."
"FOOD AND DRINKS ON ME - BARTENDER, SHOTS OF TEQUILA FOR ALL OF US AND MY MISSUS"
"That's not necessary sir we-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP. FOOD - DRINKS ON ME."
And that's how I met who I will refer to as Chief. I call him Chief because later he told me he was a Navy veteran and later he told me he was a Seal - like 98% of Navy veterans you meet. Chief had his lovely girlfriend with him and was the loudest fucking Texan in a bar full of Texans. He was pretty funny but mind you I'm still dealing with this wicked hangover and really just wanted sleep. We eat our respective meals and have a few more shots and beers.
"WHAT'S YOUR PLANS TONIGHT!?"
"We're tired so we were just goin-"
"NOT IN MY TOWN ON A FRIDAY NIGHT. YOU BOYS ARE MEETING UP WITH ME."
"That's really not neces-"
"YOU HAVE TO TAKE MY OFFER BECAUSE I PAID YOUR MEALS AND DRINKS AND YOU'D BE DICKS IF OTHERWISE, MEET ME AT CHILI'S."
Well, fuck. Fair point. We ended up driving to this random Chili's after exchanging texts with them and shit. My LT is all worked up and excited like a puppy because he's hoping they're a rich couple who want to rain down upon us the riches of the world for THX 4 UR SERVICE. I'm more in the tune of thought that they're swingers and probably want untie one of our balloon knots in some heated up sexcapade.
All the sudden, this SUPED the fuck up Mustang pulls up beside us.
"HEY YALL SEEN SOME ARMY DOUCHEBAGS!?" as the window rolls down.
"I'm sorry, we're not like submarines or Marines, you can't go down on us sir."
"HA! LET'S SEE IF THAT PIECE OF SHIT CAN KEEP UP"
"It's a fucking rental Dodge of course it won't-" his Mustang goes flying off 2 Fast 2 Furious style. The Lieutenant is driving as I watch this Mustang Toyko-fucking-drift into the highway.
"Slow down and ask him the location by text. I don't want to die on the road." So Chief proceeds to text us the location of where they are heading. And of course, strip club. We pull up and it's about the nicest fucking strip club I have ever seen. Polar opposite to that fucking swamp trailer we had seen before. I'm walking in my Wal-Mart bin threads clothes like "Fuck I'm not dressed for this shit."
There's another couple with Chief now who introduce themselves to us. They're roughly around his age and married. Oh yeah, we are totally in a swinger situation. One of us is going to have to pay the dues and it isn't me. We walk in and sit down at this table and this place is two stories. Huge. Multiple dancers everywhere.
"ALL DRINKS ON ME, YOU WANT A DANCE, PUT IT ON MY CARD." He then proceeds to pull out $300 in ones and shuffles them to each of us so we total $100 each. Dude. WTF is this. Then he proceeds to buy a tray of jello shots and puts that on the table. At this time, a Mafiaso looking dude walks up to us in a nice suit.
"Thank you for getting the VIP section. Just so you're aware, you will have to purchase a $500 dollar bottle of champagne or a $1000 bottle." What. The. Fuck. We're in the VIP section of this club? Holy shit, how much does that cost? Here I am dressed in clothes that probably in total cost $17.67 and about to be drinking a bottle of $500 champagne.
"I DON'T WANT CHAMPAGNE! I WANT SOME REAL LIQUOR!" Gents and gentettes, I proceed to watch this man argue with the owner that he wants Captain Morgan over champagne. I am now at a loss of processing this TDY adventure. Finally the owner agrees to Captain Morgan but it will still cost $500 dollars.
He agrees. I just witnessed a man pay $500 dollars for a bottle of Captain Morgan. That I am almost positive that we never opened. I shit you not. I am holding back on throwing this dude's cash around because I'm still worried about the whole swinger aspect and them getting some soldier butthole later in the night when the festivities end.
Fast forward, fast forward.
Night ends. We bid our farewells to Chief and his friends. None of us was required to fuck one of them. Other NCO didn't drink at all so he drives us back to the hotel so we can finally crash. We do. TDY adventure now can get official and we can focus on our containers like professionals...
Hold fast. Rewind, rewind.
It's a Saturday. We don't have shit we can do. I'm awoken early in the morning by a knock at my door in which I answer and the Lieutenant is standing there with Chief on speaker yelling about jet-skis or some shit. wat?
"He said he told you that we were going on his boat today." Umm.... negative.
"MEET ME AT THE DOCKS" Chief yells on the phone and hangs up.
So, we ended up meeting them at whatever lake is near Beaumont and let me tell you what... I would have given up my butthole for the amount of fun we had on his boat and jet skis. Jesus Christ, that was one of the funnest days of my life. I had never ridden a jet ski before but was going nuts on it. In less than two hours of meeting up with him, I'm driving a jet ski for the first time in my life trying to keep up with his fucking boat so I don't lose him. I don't really have much to add to that but god damn jet skis are amazing.
Fast forward, fast forward.
So we get the boat back to the dock and, in case I didn't mention, it was Chief, his girlfriend, and the other couple I mentioned before. I hear them talking about going to some boat casino with a Jack Daniels restaurant. Chief's friend keeps telling me they make a steak that is so good you will want to "fuck it on the floor to relieve your erection" which I believe is a high compliment. They get ready to leave and we bid our farewells.
"THE FUCK ARE YALL TALKING ABOUT, SEE YOU THERE." Well okay, I guess we're going to a boat casino lol wtf. We go to a casino and they park the boat at the docks. I proceed to watch these fools drop mad money after eating a steak that I'm not sure I would call floor fucking worthy but pretty damn good. They then proceed to go nuts on the gambling. I mean fucking leaving me at their table with like $1,000 dollars so they could take a quick piss and I don't even gamble so I just stood there like a lost child. At one point, I notice Chief is missing so I decide to go check his boat.
Lo and behold, there he is swimming in the dock with his boat blaring music loud as fuck. As I am walking towards the concert, there is literally a party of people dancing to his music outside of a hotel room on a balcony. I walk down and he's climbing back in. About this time, the other NCO from my merry band of adventurers walks up to. Chief asks what service-members carry now in the Army and proceeds to pull a glock out of his boat glove compartment.
Alrighty now... I don't really care much for someone to be intoxicated and holding a gun. "Hey you should probably put-"
BANG
Mother. Fucker. Fucking. Fuck. FUCK. He totally just fired a round into the water. We are at a god damn casino and on the casino property. We are so about to taken the fuck down into depths of hell that I have never seen before. That dancing crew that I mentioned early, they're gone. Andddddd here comes security. Two behemoths of security guards heading our way. Once again, I go into the fucking zone and start walking towards them.
"HEY DID SOMEONE FIRE A GUN OVER HERE!?"
"Hey brother, that shit scared the fuck out of me."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"
"It must have been like a boat backfire or something. I thought for sure it was a gunshot at first. I think the water made it sound weird. Scared the fuck out of me."
"How do you know it wasn't!?"
"Oh I'm in the Army bro. That shit made me think someone was shooting at us."
"Oh... Okay... You cool?"
"Yeah, I'm good man. Just spooked me."
"You need a drink? On the house if nee-"
"Nah, I'm good man. Thank you though. Have a nice night."
And that's how I avoided being taken into casino prison.
Fast forward, fast forward.
We bid our farewells and return back to the hotel. Sunday I get a call from Chief's friend who I will refer to as "Victor" calls me and asks if we would like to get a few Sunday beers. We agree and meet at this chill local bar and are just shooting the shit.
District Attorney for the area happen to be sitting in there and buys us rounds. God damn Texas really does fucking love the military, Jesus. At this time another older gentleman that knows Victor sits beside me and greets Victor. He asks me if I had deployed and I told him I had and was heading back over.
"I thought my war was bad, I feel bad for your situation with those bombs they put on the roads. Scary stuff."
"You were in?"
"Army, Vietnam. I was a forward observer."
This dude then proceeds to tell me stories about hiding in the brush from dog handlers who were hunting them down since they were forward observers. He proceeds to mention that if it wasn't for some Native American teaching them how to hide their scent, he would have been found. Basically learned how to rub shit on themselves so they could evade dog handlers. I'm sitting there in dismay at how he felt bad for my war... I may have gone into Iraqi shit creeks more than I cared for but I wasn't purposely rubbing shit in my hair so I could be behind deadly frontlines.
He then proceeds to talk about a battle he was in. How they were being overran at one point by the Vietnamese.
"We lost a lot of good men that day. Lots of friends." A slight tear rolls down his cheek and I saw him brush it away. You can usually spot a bull shitter with their gloats of heroism and valor. You know you're dealing with a man who had seen some shit when eyes water. A man who had seen some real hard shit in the bush. I could be wrong but I got the feeling he was the type that buried his experiences deep into his mind and never really got the chance to express his memories. He was a successful construction owner but I'm sure he still has nights judging by what he was telling me. Only to be probably spit on when he came home.
He asks to be excused so he can piss.
"I never knew he was in the service nor in Vietnam..." Victor says.
"I've known him for over 15 years and I had no clue." Bartender says.
Gentleman comes back and I ask if I can buy him a beer for his service as he had bought one for me. He agrees. Victor ended up picking up the tab before I could pay for that round. God damnit can I not fucking pay for anything here? I give him a firm handshake when I leave and tell him it was nice to meet him. Later I gave Victor my Combat Infantryman Badge and asked him to give it to the gentleman. Tell him I appreciate him telling me stories and mad respect for a man who had been through some real shit. While we were talking, he said something along the lines of not getting anything like infantry guys. Normally this would be debate worthy to me but I'm not saying shit to this gentleman. He's been through it.
"Does it mean anything when I give it to him?"
"Means essentially nothing but maybe it will be something to him."
Fast forward. I'm going to skip the part of going to a Roller Derby team after-party at a strip club where I saw behemoth sized women picking up strippers and toss money at them left and right. That was another doozy of a day. They were more crazy in the strip club than I had ever seen any crowd be.... Coming from a survivor of Fayettenam's strip club venues, that means something.
Alright. I'm on my final day and I've left a fuck ton more shit out of this story that occurred down in Beaumont for respectful reasons. We had to leave abruptly so I was on my last night. I went down to the hotel bar that I had gone into a few times. The bartender Steve was like the youngest 50 year old dude I had ever seen. I thought he was younger than me. Apparently my man Steve is a millionaire with a landscaping business and I ask him why he bartends and he says "Because of the funny fucking stories I get to hear from dudes like you." Oh, okay, word.
This other dude is sitting beside me and asks if I was in the Army as I well telling Steve the shit show of an experience I had since being in Beaumont.
"I was in too. I didn't go overseas or nothing like you did." I then proceed to have a very meaningful conversation with this dude on how he shouldn't look at it that way. He served and if called upon, he would have answered too. I offer to buy him a drink. He agrees and I ask Steve for a glass of their best scotch at the bar for both of us. I'm paying something in this god damn town before I leave. Just fucking something. I haven't dropped a dollar since Wal-Mart basically and this place has been so fucking kind to me, I'm putting something into Beaumont's economy. So help me God.
We talk. We finish our drinks. We shake hands. He departs. I look at Steve and realize that this will wrap up this adventure. My precious Beautmont adventure. What a time. You have been so kind and generous to me. Now it's time to pay for something for this town. Here we go.
"Get me tab Steve."
"It's on the house, Pickleindabutt."
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK.
I go on this rant about how everyone is paying everything for me and fuck let me just buy a round. Steve is laughing at me and refuses.
"JUST LET ME BUY AN RC COLA STEVE, SHIT!"
I finally convince him to give me $0.00 receipt and leave him a $20 dollar tip.
The next day we get back into uniform and realize we grossly did not estimate our trip to the airport accurately at all so we are speeding away from lovely Beaumont to whatever airport we needed to get to in Louisiana. While speeding we get pulled over by some Louisiana state trooper. He walks up to the passenger side where I am sitting at.
"Who the hell do you think you are speeding like - what the hell, yall going to war or something?" when he sees the uniforms.
"Well, we're trying to make our flight at the so we can go to Iraq."
Ehhh, not a lie necessarily...
"Alright, after you pass the next state trooper at the end of the coming construction zone, you should be able to gun it the rest of the way there. Be safe now!" Wasn't expecting that response but we'll take it.
And that was that. I went back to Fort Bragg. Beaumont's adventure was over and I somehow managed to survive. I came back on a regular workday night and went to bed. Woke up to my Staff Duty desk calling me at like 5am and my dumb ass Sergeant Major was on the line which is not what I wanted...
"Hey SSG Pickle! Were you trying to fucking kill yourself!?"
Dear God, did my Sergeant Major catch wind of all that was going down in Beaumont. I wasn't posting it on social media. Does he know the shennanigans? We got the containers through. Did he catch rumors of his Staff Sergeant parading around in strip clubs, almost crashing a jet ski, partying with Roller Derby girls, having to sit around a hospital waiting area for a day, being selected to be a special guest for a crawfish cook-off... Could they question my professionalism? Am I losing my spot on the security detachment. Did I fill out hazmat paperwork wrong?... What could this mean.
"Uh... negative."
"Oh shit wrong SSG, never mind." Hangs up.
Get a text from my Platoon Sergeant who is acting 1SG at this time and he's basically like "Come in today, now." I get there and he's basically like "Yeah everything has gone to shit for this pre-deployment. I need you in here." Whatever, that's fine. He's solid so I know it's the truth.
"By the way, how was that trip to Beaumont?"
"bro."

continuing
As I was picking myself up off the shooter’s shack floor, I glanced over to the TV.
The ballplayers were all wandering around the field, looking skyward. Evidently, there was this hellacious explosion…even the television sports commentators were speculating as to what happened.
Whoops.
I looked out into the quarry. The wall that I had charged had receded some 75 feet.
There was rather a large amount of shattered, blasted dolomitic limestone now in the quarry. Enough, I found out later, for a full month’s worth of orders.
We never did find the blasting mats. I think they sort of evaporated.
Luckily, the quarry is essentially an open amphitheater in plan view; basically a big hole in the ground with vertical limestone walls. The shockwave of the blast that didn’t spend itself shattering the limestone into which it was housed, blew out laterally, hit the opposite quarry wall, rebounded, and then dispersed, rather energetically, vertically upward.
I set off car alarms for a 20 block radius.
There were no broken home windows, as the lion’s share of the shock wave was redirected upward.
Good thing there were no low flying zeppelins or dirigibles in the area...
I waited the requisite time to allow for any loafers. There were none, so I jumped into the nearest wheel loader and began clearing the quarry floor. Hell, I had to so I could open the front gate.
As I was clearing the floor, making pile number eight of the loose rock I had liberated, I heard the characteristic whoop-whoop of emergency vehicles.
I parked the wheel loader, opened the front gate, and raised the green flag. That was enough blasting for one day.
A few minutes later, three police cars zoom into the site. Two were local city cops, and one was a state trooper.
“Hi, guys!” I waved, “Nice day, innit?”
“Doctor Rock! We should have known.” One of the local boys groaned.
“Hey, I did call you beforehand, as per procedure,” I said.
Polack the cop walks up, just knowing I was responsible. “Yeah, but we didn’t figure on you terrorizing the entire city.”
“Polack! How goes it?” I asked.
The other local cop and the state trooper look to Polack, “You know this maniac?”
“Oh, hell yeah. For years. Don’t worry, the good doctor is mostly harmless.” He chuckles.
“Damn. OK. I guess everything’s OK. Just no more shooting today, please, Doctor. It’s going to take hours to calm everyone down.” He laments.
“Yes, sir. I’m done for the day.” I reply, snickering slightly.
The one local and state trooper depart, shaking their heads in amazement. This left Polack to follow me over to the shooter’s shack to mooch a cigar and whatever else he can find.
“Jesus Hula-Dancing Christ, Rock. What the hell was that? I was all the way out in Whitewatosa and heard you.” He asks as he sneakily snakes a smoke out of my case.
“Just some common chemicals in the proper proportions.” I snicker.
“Which were?” he asks.
I go in the back of the shed and toss him an empty container of one of the parts of the binaries I used. He catches it, reads the label, and drops it like a live grenade.
“Binaries? Fuck! Like what you used at the tower?” he asks.
“Yep. I used just a little more.” I reply.
“Little more? Damn, as I said, we’ve been briefed on the stuff. This shit’s nasty.” He shakes his head.
“Yeah. Fun, too.” I reply.
Polack grabs a Sprechler’s Cream Soda out of the fridge as I opt for a cold Cream Ale and shot of potato juice. Hell, I was done for the day, so…
We sit around and have a chat, just shooting the shit, as it were. Manly topics, so the conversation eventually steered over to guns.
“Hey!” Polack remembers, “That’s right! You fucking owe me. Let me borrow that fucking cannon you carry. I want to show the chief a thing or two.”
“Yeah, that’s right”, I agree, “When do you need it?”
“This Friday, after shift. It’s the monthly qualifiers for us.” He notes.
“Are pyromaniacs allowed in?” I ask.
“To observe? Sure. To shoot? Nope. Insurance regulations.” He says.
“What time?” I continue.
“1800 hours.” He tells me.
“I’ll be there. I’ll bring my gun and an assortment of loads. Hey, this could be fun!” I evilly smile.
“Doctor. You’re doing that thing again. You’re grinnin’ like a shithouse rat. You know how much that scares me. Stop it.” He pleads.
“No worries. Friday at 1800 hours.” I reply, grinning.
Polack slurps down his Sprechlers, snitches another stogie, and squeals out of the quarry in a cloud of dense dolomitic dust.
I arrive back at our flat, after stopping for two frozen custard Turtle Sundaes, to go. I give one to an appreciative wife and I ask her about her day.
“Oh, went shopping with Oma. Got the cutest shoes, and a new purse, and…oh well, never mind. You’ll see.”
Between bites of Turtle Sundae, she asks how my day went.
“Oh, my dear. I had a real blast.” I replied, not lying in the least.
Monday, after my first classes, I’m back in the faculty lounge, savoring a Greenland Coffee.
There was the usual instructor chatter when Dean Vermiculari walks in.
“Good morning, Dean!” I say. “Care for a sit-down and a coffee?”
“Good morning, Doctor Rock. Yes, please to both.” He replies.
I fix us both a fresh Greenland Coffee and return to our table. I hand him one and sit down to savor my soupçon.
“How was your weekend?” I ask the Dean of the College.
“Oh, very nice. Had a fine time catching some perch and crappie out on Lake Genever. I see you had a victorious weekend as well. Twice.” He smiles.
“Twice?” I asked.
“Well, your handling of the tower demolition made all the papers. Very, very well done, Doctor. I congratulate you.” He smiles.
“Thank you, Dean. That means a lot. Just doing what I can with what I’ve got. But twice?” I replied.
“It wasn’t front-page news, but I saw there was some, well, let us just say, ‘energetic activity’ out at the Silurian reef limestone quarry yesterday.” He grinned.
“Oh, yes. I had a job to do and well, as I always say: ‘Nothing succeeds like excess.” I smile back.
“Quite. This beverage you’ve created is really rather extraordinary, Doctor. Again, I thank you.” He tips his mug my direction in the age-old Midwestern salute.
“It’s a little recipe I picked up on my last expedition to the northlands. I grew rather fond of the concoction.” I replied.
“Ah, I see. Marvelous.” He smiles.
“Thank you, Dean. High praise indeed.” I reply.
“Which leads me to…ah, Doctor Rock. I have another favor to impose upon you.” He says, all serious.
“Yes, Dean? How can I be of service?” I ask.
“We, as you no doubt know, have many, many fine extractive mineral company connections. We actually receive quite a large amount of funding and endowments from them. They recruit here extensively for our young geoscientists. Now, since Dr. Pataariki has left for industry himself, I would like to appoint you as the College of Natural Sciences corporate liaison.” He explains.
“Indeed?” I replied, too stunned for words for once.
“Yes, indeed.” He continues, “It will require travel, mostly domestic, and delivering symposia at various companies on differing extractive geological subjects. You will also serve as host and university coordinator when they are present on recruiting tours. There will, of course, be additional remuneration to accompany the added responsibilities.”
I slurped my coffee, thinking furiously.
“Could I please first discuss it with my wife before I answer?” I ask.
“Oh, Doctor. Of course, of course. Take your time. I will not require a reply until… tomorrow.” He smiles, finishes his coffee, thanks me again, and toddles out.
“Yow, Es!” I exclaim, “This is one hell of an opportunity. It’s never before been offered to a junior professor. This will cement my tenure-track. It’s going to be a bitch with time, though. What do you think I should do?”
“Well, Rock, honey, I think you should do…” Es begins.
“No! None of that ‘do what you think is best’ stuff. I want your own thoughts, just like when I decided to go after my doctorate.” I explained.
“OK, then.” Esme looks all serious like she’s going to deliver a bipartisan political speech.
“Yes.” She says, firmly
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Yep. You asked I answered. We’ll make it work. We always do. You can’t let the Dean down. You will accept tomorrow without fear or qualms of your wife’s hesitations, of which I harbor none.” Esme proclaims.
“Did I ever tell you of the myriad reasons I love you so?” I ask.
The next morning I meet with Dean Vermiculari. He’s pleased that I accept and hands over to me the charter. Then the lists of company representatives, their contact information, and some other secret stuff that I can’t divulge right yet.
A raft of oil companies will be coming in the late spring semester, so I need to contact each and every one to solidify dates, times and positions for which they’re recruiting. But that’s for then, I have something more proximal for now.
I have a Friday appointment with Polack the cop at the town police shooting range.
I arrive spot on time with my Casull .454 Magnum pistol, in its carry bag, along with a small duffel crammed with Pyrodex, Tannerite, and selection of specialty loads I had Herman the German, the inveterate gunsmith, create.
Herman the German, his actual sobriquet, was this incredible gunsmith, craftsman, and all-around artillery specialist. Have any sort of problem with a rifle, shotgun, or pistol? See Herman. Gun holding too high? See Herman. Barrel warped? See Herman. Need solid gold projectiles for a certain one-off job? See Herman.
Herman the German can sort it out.
Just never ask him: “How?”
“Ach! I’ve lived so long to learn, and you want it free? I’ll fix it, you pay, but I am only one knowing how!”
Herman was a cranky old Kraut, and has lived here for as long as anyone can remember. Even my Grandfather had deferred to Herman when he had some particularly delicate machining operation that need special attention and was unique.
As far as anyone knew, Herman had no family, but was never at a loss for friends. He was one of the most popular, and well known, but still oddly really unknown, kind of mysterious, old bastards in the entire community.
Herman the German liked me because I could obtain for him certain high-energy things he couldn’t. All were entirely legal, but some were sort of out there in the gray zone.
He also liked that I was educated, as he held education in the highest esteem. He also liked that I was of German extraction myself.
I often made it a point to drop by with odd and unusual high-octane potables while never expecting anything in return other than a story or a shared cigar.
Herman created some special loads for my .454 Magnum, which he prized.
“I like your gun, Doctor Rock, it is so big! I can still see well enough to build things for it.” He told me one day over cheroots and Schnapps.
Herman was a character to be certain. It must have been the pixie in him to dream up some of the specialty rounds he created for me to share with the local constabulary.
He lived out in the county by himself in an old farmhouse. He had a full machine shop in his basement, complete with forge, metal handling equipment, and a firing test range.
He handed back my .454, rather solemnly.
“Doctor, I am afraid to say I couldn’t test all the special rounds I’ve created for you. I need to patch the hole in the cinder blocks in the downstairs range. Your gun punched right through the back…” he apologized.
Now, Herman does all sorts of work on the local’s deer rifles, the police’s ordinance and has even worked some with the Baja Canada National Guard. Some of the little novelties he’s dreamed up for me are the first to escape his homemade basement test range.
I felt oddly honored.
After proving who I was to the nice range officer, I looked around trying to find Polack.
“It’s 1550. Where the hell is Polack? I wondered.
“Rock! Over here.” Polack calls to me.
He motions me outside to the police department’s tactical outdoor range. I had thought all along he was referring to the indoors police target range. This might pose some problems.
The tactical range was a series of clapboard shacks, all setup and designed to represent some downtrodden urban inter-city landscape. There were a couple of junked cars, broken sidewalks, storefronts, houses, bus stops…in short, all things necessary to replicate the seediest sections of a settlement where malefactors live and breed.
The cops all run around this range, shooting at bad guy pop-up cut-outs and avoid the not-bad-guy pop-up cut-outs. They’ve got music blaring, firecrackers going off, all trying to re-create a shady deeply urban environment. Points are awarded by the accuracy of fire on the run, time to maneuver the course, and the ability of not gunning down innocent bystanders.
It is not the best place to test a .454 Cusall. This hand cannon recoils like a fundamentalist Christian being solicited for donations to Anton LaVey, shoots flames and incandescent gasses like Smaug after a hard night of drinking and a stop at the Taco Bell buffet, is louder than a dime-store Karen demanding to see a Manager, and more powerful than a Ghost Pepper suppository.
To quote Joe Piscopo: “It shoots through schools.” Especially faux-schools made of plywood.
A .32 or .38 cop special is the correct weapon here; even a 9mm is a little heavy. Enough power to make a serious dent, easy on control, light on the recoil…a good tactical weapon.
But, nothing succeeds like excess.
Polack’s Chief is running around, capping off his ‘big ol’ .44 Magnum, and making the valley echo. He punches considerable holes in the pop-up cut-outs, but has such a hard time handling the recoil, his score is barely passable.
Polack runs his test with his standard 9mm sidearm and qualifies easily. However, he’s nowhere near done with his Chief yet.
I suggest to Polack we have a shoot-off. And since a .44 Magnum bullet ‘is so close to a .454 Magnum’, which it isn’t…the .454 Casull generates nearly 85% more recoil energy than the .44 Magnum; that we’d need something other than holes punched in plywood to judge the efficacy of each.
We are literally just down the road from Max Yazzer’s farm and market. They’re the place you go for your Halloween jack-o-lantern. However, now, he has a surplus of melons.
I think you can see where this is headed…
I borrow Polack’s personal conveyance and run down to Max’s farm. I return with a trunk-load of elderly, overripe, cheap as chips, melons. Watermelons, Honeydews, Musks, and Casabas.
We place them in strategic areas on the course, five for the Chief to find, and five for Polack.
A .44 vs. a .454 melon-wise results in pretty much the same sort of mess: high-velocity fruit spatter. Although, the Chief was very impressed by the report of the .454. So, after running the tactical-melon course, clear demarcation of a winner was elusive.
OK, OK, clever dicks. How about this? A standing shoot-off? We’ll set up 3 melons each at 30, 20, and 10 yards. Beginning at 30 yards, your time will be until you take out all three melons. But, they’re not going to be in a straight line, we’re going to make them somewhat camouflaged. You will stand in one small demarcated area, hunt those miscreant melons, and bring them to justice. Fastest time and greatest display wins, as determined by the Police Peanut Gallery.
Polack and the Chief agree.
The Chief goes first and dispatches the melons, with a fair amount of spatter, in 15.3 seconds.
Not bad.
Polack is next. He wipes out all the melons and creates some thoroughly impressive displays with Herman’s ‘special’ rounds. Normal ballistics for the .454 are, for a 250 grain (16 g) bullet, a muzzle velocity of over 2,400 feet per second, developing up to 2,800 ft-lb of energy.
Herman’s hot loads are double that.
Polack wins the day on impressive high-velocity melon distribution, but misses, so close, with a time of 17.0 seconds.
Recoil’s a bitch.
Then there are Herman’s ‘specialties’.
The Chief is duly impressed and even comments that his ears are ringing even with the ear protectors. He asks to inspect the weapon. He is even more than duly impressed.
Polack knows what’s up and asks the Chief if he’d like to give a whirl.
Of course, the Chief can’t back down.
Polack loads the .454 with 5 of Herman’s specialties: hollow-point rounds loaded hot, compressed, and tipped with alkaline earth metals, like metallic sodium and metallic potassium…
We set up the nastiest, glorpiest, just barely-holding-together, overripe, laced with Tannerite (an impact-actuated low-explosive) watermelon at the ‘Concealed Carry’ distance of 5 meters.
We slowly fade back into the distance to avoid the inevitable ‘Gallagher reaction’.
The Chief fires one, and just nicks the top of the melon. Don’t laugh, with the type of recoil and heft of the sidearm, and tensing up in anticipation, it’s easy to be off the mark initially.
The second round impacts dead-center. Now, alkaline earth metals and water don’t get along really well. In fact, their relationship is explosive. Especially explosive when delivered at 2,900 feet per second.
The Chief catches a huge smattering of vitamin-packed watermelony back blast goo.
He’s not entirely happy. He looks positively grisly with all that blown-up melon schmoo on his nice, neat uniform.
He returns my gun and bans me from ever showing up at the police range again.
Polack is on traffic duty for the next month.
He figures it was well worth it.
Back at the flat, Esme is shaking her head and wondering if I’ll ever grow up.
“I may grow old, but I’ll never grow up.” I reply.
I see I have several missed phone calls. Ah, me; no rest for the weary. Back to company-university liaison duties.
After I had contacted these companies, I receive no less than 12 requests for symposia, talks, and seminars to be given to various level of industrial scientific employees in their respective companies.
I am now slated to give academic conferences on stratigraphy, sedimentology, and seismic structural geology to different companies in Houston, Oklahoma City, Denver, Casper, Corpus Christi, New Orleans, and Tulsa. In the next 12 weeks, I’ll be giving no less than 8 talks in seven cities.
I speak with Dean Vermiculari on how best to handle the situation. He understands and appoints two graduate student teaching assistants to handle my classes while I’m on the road. That relieves me of being physically there, but I still have to grade papers, compose lesson plans, and keep things running smoothly until finals.
Besides giving the talks, there’s travel to oil fields, production facilitates, manufacturing plants, hotels, restaurants while I’m in town…the pace is excruciating. I’m gone more than I am at university. Plus in my time back home, I’m still the ad hoc master blaster for the limestone quarry.
Then, there’s the companies arriving on campus, and the roles are reversed. Now I’m the welcome wagon and have to sort out the logistics of receiving the company representatives. I need to set up the colloquia to introduce the companies to the prospective students, arrange lodging, arrange passes for the university, transportation, “Meet-and-Greet’s, ad infinitum.
I knew this was having a bit of effect on me when I came back to the flat after one particularly grueling ordeal of canceled flights, full hotels, missed connections and lukewarm reception by the company workers.
“Hello”, I said, as I walked in the flat, “I believe you have a reservation for…”
Esme just stood there, wondering if I was having a laugh.
No, I wasn’t. I was completely hallucinating from road weariness, lack of sleep, jet lag, and total disorientation. This continued on for the next approximately 18 months.
Esme was beginning to have second thoughts about all this.
My teaching load was diminished by one whole introductory course. However, I was still flying hither and yon, delivering symposia, meeting with young geoscientists and getting to know the ins-and-outs of the Oil Industry.
I found it particularly fascinating.
Time marched on and it was once again it was the recruiting season. We had no less than eight oil companies visiting the university in their quest to swell the roster of their junior scientists.
I’m still busier than a one-armed paperhanger in a windstorm, but have settled into a groove of sorts. I know the company recruiters and they now know me. I’ve actually struck up friendships with several. Particularly since I take them to the best local restaurants and bars after their recruiting duties are finished.
I’ve met with recruiting representatives of Shrill Petrol, Mexxon, Nobil, Nocono Oil, Flug, Geddy, Brutish Petroleum, and Qexaco.
The recruiting season is winding down and I find myself with Red (not Adair), of Nocono Oil.
“Well, Doctor Rock”, Red states, “Another fine recruiting run. We’ve snagged two of your young geologists and one geophysicist. I’d say it was almost a perfect score.”
We’re sitting in the Norton’s Steakhouse. After a couple of prime pink porterhouses, we’re working on the post-dinner double vodka and bitter lemon for me, and Lagavulin for Red.
“Almost perfect?” I ask.
“Yeah. There’s been this one small nagging concern from our company higher-ups.” Red continues.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“We need some more senior people. For one thing, we’ve recently opened a new petroleum laboratory down in our Houston office. Going to need some serious talent to run that show.” Red says.
“I see”, I reply, “And…?”
“We need mentors. Those with varied and far-flung knowledge. They must be well educated, global in experience and stature, with an [ahem] diverse set of skills.” Red notes.
“Whew”, I agree, “That’s a tall order. You want my help with names of possible candidates? Is that it?”
“Not as such, Doctor.” Red drains his drink, motions for me to do the same, and orders another round.
Our drinks arrive and Red downs half his in one gulp.
“Well, then”, I continue, “How can I help?”
Red chuckles, “For someone so educated, you can really be thick as two short planks at times.”
I sit back, and sip my Old Thought Provoker.
The mercury-vapors light off.
“No!” I say, incredulously.
“Oh, yes.” Red smiles.
“No?” I ask, slowly taking in the possible effects of what he’s hinting at…
“OK, Doctor Rocknocker”, Red gets all serious and corporate, “We’d like to offer you a position at Nocono Oil as Senior Laboratory Manager and Head of Corporate Continuing Education.”
You could have knocked me over with a grenade. I was stunned. I fumbled with my drink.
“Red, you old con artist” I reply, “Is this a set-up?”
Red, serious as a heart attack, looks directly at me and replies, “Doctor Rock, absolutely not, it’s a genuine offer.”
He slides over a folder with some papers inside. “Here are the particulars.”
Reeling, I accept the folder. I open it and right after the corporate logos and legal bullshit, I see a tall figure with a whole raft of zeros trailing behind it.
I read furiously. The job would be both interesting and challenging. It would be in Houston, with travel and teaching at all other company outposts on a regular basis. I reexamine that figure from before and verify that I’m not now hallucinating.
The job comes with furnished, corporate-paid housing, incredible benefits, loads of opportunity for advancement, more opportunity to travel, really generous vacation time…
“Right. On the level?” I ask again.
“Yep.” Red bluntly says.
“Well”, I gulp, “you know I have to discuss this with Esme”, whom he’s met several times previous.
“Of course, and you probably want to finish out the semester, correct?” red asks.
“Oh, yes.” I reply. There would be a monsoon of paperwork and other grunt work I’d need to conclude or hand over if I were to accept this offer.
“OK, then”, Red finishes his drink, motions for me to do the same, a real rarity; but I was in another dimension at this point. He orders another round and sits back, waiting on a refill.
“You have two weeks to reply” Red states.
“I know that’s not a terribly long time, but we need to fill this position ASAP. Can I ask for that? Your answer, yea, or nay, within a fortnight?” Red demands.
“Yes”, I reply. “I at least owe you that.”
And that was the end of the discussion for the night about me joining the private sector. We stayed a few more hours, chatting, smoking my cigars, and discussing everything but the lumbering elephant in the room.
We part outside as I need to head back to our flat. Red wants to go downtown to one of those “Gentleman’s Clubs” he’s heard were so famous at the time.
I was flummoxed the whole cab ride home.
It was late when I returned, but I simply had to wake Es with the news.
“Rock, for pity’s sake, its 2 o’clock in the morning!” Es protests. “Can’t this wait until later?”
“Sorry, my dear” I reply, probably as serious as I ever had with Esme. “This is a potential game-changer.”
“What is it? Are you OK?” Esme trembles.
“Oh, I’m fine. Better than fine.” I reply.
She’s relieved.
“Then what’s so important?” she asks.
“Um…how would you like to move to Houston?” I ask.
“You going to teach at Cougar High (University of Houston)?” she inquires.
“Nope. Brace yourself. I’ve been offered a job with Nocono Oil.” I finally spill the beans.
Esme is slightly stunned and sits down.
I go to the wet bar, fix me a bracing potato juice and citrus and Esme a stiff white Zinfandel.
I hand her the wine and she is still semi-dazed and digesting the information.
I slurp a good portion of my drink, retrieve her Sobranjes and me a cigar from my Turkmenistan humidor.
I sit on the couch next to her and hug her soundly.
“Esme? Es? Earth to Es? You in there?” I joke.
“Oh, Yeah. Rock. Really? Hang on”, she leaves, returning with her housecoat as this might take a little time.
“So?” I ask, “Your thoughts. Now! Immediately! Initial reaction!” I try to jar her back into reality.
“Well, what do you want?” she asks.
“C’mon, my dearest. You know I hate that. No, what do you think? What do you honestly think?” I reply.
We both fire up our smokes, and I refresh our drinks. We return to the dinner table where Red’s folder lies.
“Es, here. Look at this.” I say, sliding the portfolio over to her.
She reads like a hungry man at a Vegas casino buffet. I can tell where she was stopped by something extraordinary.
“This is for real?” she asks, “Red’s not pulling a fast one?”
“Nope. It’s the genuine article”, I tell her, “He needs my reply within two weeks.”
“Rock, Rock…I just don’t know. It’s a lot to process at 0230 in the morning. Let’s go to bed and have a think in the morning. You have the luxury of at least that amount of time.” She notes.
“Right again, as usual”, I say, “Stuff it. It can wait.” We toddle off to bed.
The next morning, over Cuban omelets and Greenland Coffees, we sort through the particulars.
“Rock, it’s an extraordinary offer. But, do you want to leave teaching? I remember how you got all animated by Dean Vermiculari giving you the corporate liaison job and how that would improve your shot at tenure.” She notes.
“I just don’t know. I’m still shell-shocked.” I tell her. “Let me go to school and we’ll pick this up tonight. We both have work to do no matter what. Oh, bloody hell. I hadn’t considered your job. Another wrinkle in the mess.”
“Don’t you worry about that”, Esme smiles. “One catastrophe at a time.”
“I do so love you.” I hug her soundly. “Think I should mention this offer to anyone at school?”
“No. Definitely not.” Esme shakes her head. “Let’s figure this out on our own.”
“I agree”, I say, kiss her and depart for school once again.
The next week was a blur. Recruiting duties were dragging and I was being preoccupied.
Even my students noted the lack of in-room explosions lately.
I spend the next Saturday at the quarry, doing some small amount of blasting. I quiz the quarry owners about their progress in acquiring a new master for the quarry’s operation.
“Oh, Doctor Rock” they gush, “You’re doing such a fine job, we haven’t really looked. Why do you ask?”
“No particular reason at this time, I reply, “But perhaps you might want to begin looking”
The chinks in my armor were finally starting to show.
Sunday was spent out on Sliver Lake, with Esme and me chasing the elusive crappie, perch, and bucketmouth bass. It also gave us a chance to clear our heads from work, school and other such intrusions. We both needed a bit of downtime.
Later that night, after a meal of beer-battered fillet of crappie and perch on the barbie, we sit down at the dinner table.
The portfolio sits there, taunting us.
I get up, makes us both our drinks, sit down and declare that this is it.
“Es, darling” I say, “its nut-cuttin’ time. We need to make our decision.”
“You’re right.” Es agrees, “Time for risk-reward analysis. Get some paper and some pencils.”
We spend the next few hours listing the pros and cons of accepting the Houston position or staying here and pursuing my tenured professorship.
After several hours, I stretch, stand, and go to the fridge. I retrieve the bottle of Bollinger Les Vieilles Vignes Francaises I had purchased the other day.
I return to the table with the wine and the glasses, pop the cork and pour us both a glass of high-brow bubble water.
I hug and kiss Esme like I had just returned from a long, solo expedition.
“Esme, my darling. I’d like to propose a toast. First to us. Hа здоровый!”
“Cheers!” Esme replies.
“Secondly to Red, Dean Vermiculari, the quarry guys, Polack the Cop, and all the others that makes our life weird around here.”
“Seconded”, Es echoes.
“Finally: to Houston, Texas. Our new home!” I finally add.
The next morning, Dean Vermiculari peers over the top of his pince-nez glasses. He’s not looking overly happy with me right now.
“Why is it, Doctor, that everyone that receives the job of corporate liaison ends up going with corporate?” he asks.
“Perhaps it’s just the exposure to another world that exists beyond academia.” I reply, truthfully.
“Doctor Rocknocker,” the Dean gravely states, “I am not at all happy about your decision. We had great hopes for you here and you were riding right up the tenure track. Another five years and it would have been assured.”
“Five years is a long time, Dean”, I state the obvious.
“Yes, indeed.” The Dean replies frostily. “However, you are young. Perhaps you need to get this private sector nonsense out of your system, then you can return to academia where you belong.”
“Perhaps, perhaps”, I reply.
“Please, do consider this option down the road. You and your antics will be missed here, by students and faculty alike.” He says.
“I will, Dean, I promise.” I reply “However, for now, it’s time for my boot heels to be wanderin’.”
“Doctor, I will miss your strange and unique way of looking at life. I reluctantly accept your resignation at the end of the current semester and wish you all the best in your newest endeavors. Please remember us when corporate support for academia is mentioned in your new company.” he says.
“I promise you, Dean, I will not forget what I’ve learned here and what you’ve taught. It’s the least I can do,” I reply. “I will never forget my roots.”
“All I can ask”, he concludes. He stands to shake my hand. We shake and my audience is over.
I resign from the quarry a week later. They haven’t found a new blaster but wish me well on my new journey. I tell them I’m here until the end of the semester, so I won’t leave them high and dry.
I tell Polack the Cop about all the goings-on.
“Who the hell can I roust for beer and cigars now?” He whines. “Let me know when you get to Texas if they need any cops. I wouldn’t mind trying’ that. Hell, maybe a Texas Ranger!”
“A Cheesehead Ranger…?” I assure him I will and pass a box of cigars to him as a parting gift. He gives me a mayoral-signed get-out-of-jail-free card.
“Now you can drive that old Harley just as crazy as you want.” He chuckles.
“Thanks, Polack.” I say, shaking his hand. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I sold my bike a week earlier.
Red was very chuffed with the news.
“Snagged me a big one this time!’ He laughed, over the phone.
There was enough paperwork, considerations and decisions to be made to last the remaining time Esme and I had in-state until our move. Already, a moving company had arrived, done inventory, and was preparing for our move to Houston.
Esme resigned her position and decided she wanted to take some time off. She wanted to be a housewife, a colleague, and not have to work for once at an outside job. My new position allowed for that in spades. Besides with her credentials, anytime when she wants to re-join the workforce, there are myriad opportunities in the Bayou City.
We made the choice of housing out west of town, in Katy, Texas. We could have chosen Sugarland, Addicks, Greenspoint, Greenway, or the Memorial area. However, these west Houston company properties were closest to the job and largest in square footage.
My students got wind of my resignation and relocation. They threw me an unexpected farewell party at the Gast Haus. It was nickel-beer night and since they were footing the bill, it all worked out just fine.
I would miss the old place. The camaraderie, the seasons, the university; hell my home these last many years. I’ve been on many, many expeditions, but I always returned home.
Now, home was moving and was awaiting our arrival.
Esme and I said our farewells to our families as well. We were the first through college, the first ones to travel international, the first Doctor in the family, and the first to leave the state.
That’s a lot of familial firsts.
I had to keep reminding everyone it wouldn’t be the last. Hell, we’re just moving to Texas, it’s not like we’re off to Greenland or Mongolia…
[Gasp]
We saddled up Es’s old Chevy Nova, took one last, lingering look in the rearview mirror, and said fare thee well to our previous lives.
“We’ll be back. Someday. I promise” I told the city of our youth and young married adulthood.
We decided to drive to Houston because we had the luxury of a bit of time. We needed the stretch to chew over some interpersonal and private things on the way to the next chapter in our lives. Besides, the weather was good, the roads ahead open and clear, and Texas had no ‘Open Container’ law, yet.
We pointed the old Nova south and hit the gas.
A week later, we’re wandering around our new house in Katy, Texas. Our belongings, scant though they may be, arrived the day after we did. Esme and I spent the next couple of day rearranging the house, buying necessary domestic bits and pieces, and getting to know our new neighborhood.
First thing, though, Esme wanted to replace the old Nova. I concurred, but insisted we keep it as a second car and went out to purchase our first new car as a couple.
I wanted a Land Rover. We ended up with a glossy black Toyota 4-Runner. Close enough.
I was scheduled to show up at my new job the next Monday.
I had my own parking spot, complete with “Reserved for Dr. Rock” painted on the bumper block. I was shown my new lab and was introduced to my seven laboratory assistants. I was shown the catalogs I could use to order what I needed and went over the requisition procedures.
I was trotted around to meet the company CEO, CFO, CIO, VPs and many, many more company executives and managers. I’ve met with presidents and heads of state, I was impressed but not overly. They seemed like a more or less nice bunch of chaps.
Almost exactly five weeks to the day from our arrival in Houston, I come home, yelling “Darling, I’m home!”
Esme comes to greet me with a rib-rearranging hug. She tells me to sit at the dinner table, where my long hard day at the office drink, cigar, ashtray, and lighter are already set.
“How was work, dear?” she asks, sitting down with her Perrier water.
“Oh, it’s going great. The knotheads let me have an open-ended budget until I get the labs sorted just the way I want it. These guys pay their bills on time and I have carte blanche at Wards Scientific, and other supply houses. My crew is great, no interpersonal crapola, and hard workers. I can smoke in my office and no one dares give me shit about my cigars. I’m getting to know the exploration department quite well. They’re really interested in our expeditions and are more interested in my opinions of their new exploration directives.”
Esme just smiles and sips her water.
“Odd”, I thought.
“That’s great, dear.” She says. “I am so glad to hear it.”
“Me too”, I say, “How are you holding up after all these weeks alone?”
“Oh, I’m getting used to it.” She smiles.
And smiles. Beatifically. Glowing.
“What?” I ask.
“Remember what we talked about in the car on the way down here?” She asks.
“We talked about a lot of things…” I say, suddenly my eyes grew very, very wide indeed.
“Yes. You’re going to be a father. I’m pregnant, Rock.” Esme smiles.

1-5-19
It's been awhile since I posted because I’ve been grinding the game and vegas happened. Dashy filled expectations of being a young formal and its funny that ppl only see that now. Congratulations to Optic on winning Vegas the event was lit. My old sub is fucked up and I can't make it public now so I made the new one and copied the main posts over and locked them but their here now for history. My last post said I could write one last one until next rostermania about small stuff and some stuff I heard that I thought was fugaze. Its good I waited because it turns out lots of it was true and I heard straight from lots of ppl involved. Theirs not too much to talk about for rosters bc everything is set for the qualifier so the only topic left is rich guy and who he is. No its not Marc Cuban lol. I think hes one of the bigger stories in cod since he caused so much movement and was the reason I made my burner in the first place.
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So I worked on this post for awhile now in MS Word so its easier to read and made it into sections since everybody kept frying me over it lol. This is going to be my last post until next rostermania so thanks for reading and hope it’s been fun and thanks to ppl that dm’d me info and helped me figure this out.
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If you weren't around for Seattle Rostermania when the Optic roster of Scump, Crim, Formal, and Karma broke up, I heard from multiple people that the plan was for them to actually leave together and join some rich guy. These are the two posts I made about it and if your confused they can help.

1. https://www.reddit.com/CoDCompetitive/comments/8egdaintel_on_og_i_was_1010_on_rostermania/
2. https://www.reddit.com/CoDCompetitive/comments/8f6bhn/new_thread_for_intel/

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(1) When Rich Guy first came up

Before ww2 even started the optic guys weren’t happy with what they were being paid and felt like infinite didnt care about them. They would joke about leaving and talking to other teams but other players thought it was just banter. Then infinite kept part of their paycheck bc part of it said they didn’t have to pay it bc it was a good behavior bonus which lots of players have and the org decides if you behaved good or not and it happened around new orleans. That’s one of the things they were pissed off about along with infinite taking forever to redo their contracts bc they only made 8000 up from 3000 and it was about to end.
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Then crim made the reddit AMA in February where he publicly said they weren’t happy with optic... https://www.reddit.com/OpTicGaming/comments/7xk9sp/crimsix_surprise_ama/du8yest/
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Guys in optic started to think they made a huge mistake selling to the wrong group months before.
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Then rich guy probably heard about the AMA post. He got someone to get him in touch with the cod roster to see if they were for real about what was said in Crims AMA. Theres a rumor rich guy was one of the ppl that tried to buy optic when they were looking for investors but hecz sold to the rangers guy instead so he knew of the cod team.
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(2) CWL Atlanta WW2

So the optic guys talked on skype with rich guy a few times before cwl atlanta which was in march and they planned to meet at the event to talk in person. Supposedly right before they were going to meet infinite decided to drop the halo team and very nearly dropped the cod team the day before the event too. That’s something scump said himself to lots of different players. I heard it was only crim that met in person at first with rich guy on Wednesday before the event and funny theres a post by someone who saw it and posted way before I made my burner account. Basically he saw crim meeting with rich guy at a strip club.
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You can read the other guys post thread here...
https://www.reddit.com/CoDCompetitive/comments/8auxou/rostermania_news_and_predictions_thread/dx2ya73/

This is going to sound made up but I live in Atlanta and I saw crim having a meeting with a guy in a suit who I think is the ceo of another team. It was the wednesday before Atlanta open and they were both wearing suits. My friends and me sat at a table behind them and we heard them talking about money. they stayed about an hour and when they were leaving his friend in a suit went to the bathroom so i went to crim and shook his hand and said good luck this weekend. He was surprised and it seemed like they went there bc they didnt want anyone to see them meeting. When they left they got into a Roles Royce. I can post more after work if anyone wants to know more...
I didnt think anything of it either when we first saw them but as i watched them it was obvious the guy was from another team. Both him and crim were in suits and i swear I heard crim say he loves the offer or something. This was on wednesay or Thursday night near midnight.
Then on monday one of my friends that was there with me told me that he saw the same suit guy out sunday night with karma and scumpi and that they were talking loudly about teams or something. so my friend brad walked up to them and asked if he could get a picture with all 3 of them. The suit guy said no so my friend said he really wants one with all 3. Karma and the suit guy said no and that my friend could have a picture with just him and Scumpi without the suit guy or else no picture at all. My friend said ok so he just got a pic with Karma and Scumpi. After he got the picture our other friend Travis walked up to the suit guy and told him we saw him and Crim out in suits the other night. He laughed and shook my friend's hand and asked where did we see them. My friend told him we saw them at tattletales and that he said hi to Crim there. The suit guy laughed and smiled and told my friend to keep that secret. My friend asked him which team he was from or if he could even tell them who he was and he smiled and said dont worry about it everyone will find out in about a month then gave a wink. Then Scump got in a car with Silly and Study and left but the suit guy and Karma talked a little more then both of them got in the same uber and said they were going to hang out more at the hotel since it was closing time already.
From what I saw on wednesday night and what my friends saw on Sunday night we all say it was obvious something was happening because of how they were acting all secretive.

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One of Crims friends and other pros say he said the post was all true but he took him to an expensive steak dinner first and it lines up with what I know about rich guy. The guys second post says something about rich guy and scump getting into an argument and I can see it happening bc scump is a dick when hes wasted which always happens after events.
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Other ppl I talked to said they saw rich guy around the W hotel bar downtown where everyone was staying but didnt know who he was. He was talking to attach but attach was trolling and said he was his cousin when ppl asked him so thats where the intel came from that rich guy was someone attach knew. No one knows why attach was talking to him or why he knew him then either even now.
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(3) CWL Birmingham WW2

rich guy took scump and crim out to dinner and smoothed things over. After the team lost they went to the bars and gambled until morning. i heard this is where he upped his offer to them to 20k a month salary each for the next 4 games. Scump and rich guy smoothed out things at the event here bc before that they didnt like each other after atlanta. I heard from a friend of crim that he said scump was rude to rich guy the first time they met in person but I dont know if the argument in the guys second post is the first time they met in person.
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This is when formal wanted karma gone and tried to get him dropped since he was costing and gunless would easily be available since rise didnt win yet. Im told rich guy then told crim he only wanted all 4 of them and no one would come close to salary and crim and karma thought all they needed was a team change away from infinite then.
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I heard attach say rich guy knew cod would be 5v5 the next year and crim said they would want him as their 5th at the bar in bham. I cant confirm that though but it makes sense on why attach would of been talking to him at Atlanta.
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(4) CWL Seattle WW2

I heard rich guy took Crim, Attach, Felo, Dashy, and Study out to dinner at a steak house there then went to a few bars with crim and attach. In the players lounge the optic guys were all saying it was done deal and they were leaving optic. Then we all know what happened with t16 so optic knew they needed a change and thats when the talk of gunless came up with him taking karmas spot but crim and scump really wanted john and octane. John was cool with playing with them but only if it was to the rich guy since he thought hed get so much blame if they didnt win from the fans.
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I heard that night they settled on scump crim john and formal and they had a party to celebrate. Karma wasnt told at the time for sure he was getting dropped and wouldnt go to the rich guys team with the others so he still went to the party. We all heard what happened here with a tshirt being made but it wasnt finger paint but was from a stripper party rich guy threw for all the players in the hotel not even those he was going to sign. I heard it got freaky and one of the strippers had green hair. Karma was high and going off no sleep so he went down to the lobby and hecz saw him and told him to take the shirt off and told other non optic players to go back upstairs and stop being retards. There is more than one shirt that got made which is why karma says the one in the pic isnt his.
https://imgur.com/jVRSIFU
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Then scump crim and a bunch of other players went out to the bars with rich guy. I heard they partied Wednesday Thursday Saturday and Sunday nights based on what other players said especially Saturday and Sunday ppl saw them get back to the hotel real late with rich guy. Everyone thought it was a done deal when they left on Monday morning.
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Sometime after that I made my first post about optic leaving. scump and crim were insisting on john and octane but then john couldnt get out of his contract with LG because there wasnt an even trade with him unlike octane for formal. I heard thats what then scared rich guy off because if formal and karma stayed on optic together and he only got scump and crim then he wouldnt get a league spot since it would stay with optic bc of the rules. So in the end formal got traded for octane and scump and crim got new deals. Then optic tried to get Zooma but faze wouldnt sell him. So optic bought methodz contract because tk didnt pay for it and then tried to trade him for zooma bc the other faze guys like methodz. Faze said no and then told Zooma they will give him a raise to 20k a month. He said they had their locks on him and wouldnt let him go. So optic then tries to get Kenny but his contract said he had to give notice of using his buyout 20 days in advance and that meant it would be after roster lock so he was stuck too. So optic got stuck with methodz as the 4th. I heard from an optic content guy they asked karma to come back but he said no.
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(5) CWL Anaheim WW2

Im not fully sure if rich guy was here but I heard after this event is when he hired apoc to work for him once the season was fully over ( https://twitter.com/Apoccc ). Apocs been in the scene for a long time and knows everyone so it makes sense why hed do it. It also makes sense because after the season it turned out unilad got sold to someone else and got rid of esports.
I heard rich guy hung out with a few of the owners from other teams but I never got real confirmation.
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(6) Pro league stage 2 WW2

In July between weeks 7 and 8 for group B (optic eu unilad rise lg col MF TM) that nameless had a house party on some random night and rich guy went with the optic and eu guys. I think he took all of them to dinner. One of the players said he was the only one at the party that wasnt a caster or a player. I heard they went out to a small bar after.
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(7) Champs WW2

This is where it gets good. So Apoc was supposed to start working for rich guy officially when unilad was knocked out but the unilad owner let him do work for rich guy earlier since unilad was leaving esports anyway.
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Rich guys original plan was to build around john and attach and start talking to them after the event. Then they were going to go after slasher bc with those 3 on board they could get anyone they wanted to fill out the roster. Also behind the scenes I heard nade was already offering players to come to 100t before champs even started offering 10k. This is the start of the bidding war for lots of players that happened during rostermania.
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That fourth they went after was scump. After optic was eliminated in groups scump and methodz were the only ones who stayed while crim and octane flew home the next morning and skipped the autograph session at champs. So its just scump and zinni hanging out with nothing to do so I heard they partied alot with rich guy. From what I know scump and rich guy are actually friends and drink together so thats what happened Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights. A player who heard some of their talks said that scump was still unhappy with optic and wanted to leave and start his own thing like nade did with 100t so he went to dinner on one of the nights with rich guy and heard he still wanted a team. Rich guy and apoc told him they wanted to try to try to get john attach and slasher. I heard scump was going around the venue the next few days telling ppl thats what he was going to do.
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Someone said John told them rich guy asked him if he would play with scump and he said yes. The thing is so many ppl say they hate each other but their good friends and hang out alot in cbus and other places. Fans always get things wrong or blow things up when its not a big deal. Ppl thought scump hated jkap but in cbus he started working out with him bc he had back pains and it helped. Or ppl thought formal was mad about karma piping lisserboo when it was opposite but no one its not a big deal. One thing true is the players completely hate larew’s +1 even mlg staff bc she’d get drunk at the venue and cussing security out for not letting her back stage just bc larew was on optic.
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Scump couldnt leave champs after losing in groups was bc his mom and friends and family were coming into town to watch him. They were seen talking to rich guy at the venue and I heard he took scumps whole group of 15 ppl out to steak dinners the next few nights.
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The story about scump being drunk on Sunday at the hotel bar talking to karma was true but he also talked to lots of players like apathy and asked him to team too but its normal for scump and all the players to be wasted on Sunday nights after events. Lots of them talk fugaze but ppl say scump was serious and also said it wouldnt be with optic but sometimes he blacks out so idk. He was carrying a printed contract with him from rich guy and I heard the offer was 50k a month for 3 years plus a small ownership part of the org. Supposedly scump agreed and wanted it down in writing so rich guy flew one of his lawyers in to write it up and give it to him. Lots of ppl are going to say 50k a month is crazy but for scump its definitely not just look how he got 30k subs on twitch plus all the other stuff he brings to the table for exposure like playing with guys like jack and shroud and ninja. Scump is the face of optic and cod so its good to see salaries going higher.
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(8) Rostermania BO4

Everybody leaves champs and rostermania started alot earlier then before. At the start optic didnt know if it was 4v4 or 5v5 yet so they were planning for 4v4 although they found out earlier than the other teams. They thought they had scump locked up but he went awol for about a week and I heard thats bc john and him were calling around to see who would want to play with them. I heard a rumor of slasher scump john Kenny as a 4 and with karma as the 5th.
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I heard this is when rich guy had players sign NDAs if they wanted to negotiate so thats why no one really said anything about the details or who he is because he can sue them if they go public. Someone close to one of the players confirmed it. I also heard from another person close to one of the players that rich guy scheduled face to face meetings where him apoc and their lawyers would fly to see the players and talk. One of apocs former players told me rich guy moved him to the USA from England full time to work for him and go around doing face to face meetings with everyone for 2 months. The players were also supposedly shown detailed presentations about marketing stuff salary investments and other things.
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Around then John and Scump decided they wanted Clay instead of slasher so he became the new target and they wanted to get it done quick before other teams made moves and so scump could get away from optic without it dragging out. Now idk exactly what happened but I heard scump started getting worried they couldnt get players out of their contracts with their current teams so he decided to go back to optic when crim and him decided to get Teej and dashy instead then add karma if it went to 5.
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So karma was still the most wanted FA out there still and everyone wanted him…eu, rise, LG, faze, etc, but for a time he agreed to go to 100t and Nade but then decided he didnt want to go there because he didnt believe in one of the players they signed. John and Karma also wanted to play together so nade thought karma could bring john with him but john said no and he would only go to rich guy or stay on LG. He would only go to rich guy because apoc is his close friend for 8 years. Karma liked it too bc he knew apoc for about a decade. Here’s Karma talking about Apoc in an old video...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYmOnBL13sA&feature=youtu.be&t=315
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So Karma and John got talking and also decided they would want to play with Clay so that became the new core for team rich guy. I heard they stopped going after attach because faze wouldnt sell him and they thought he would be too slow and be a bad fit. Even though rich guy supposedly really liked attach…remember how they were talking in atlanta before anyone knew anything…I heard he wanted to be hands off when it came to roster moves and let the staff decide that. Someone who talked to him told me he wanted to hire the experts and trust their advice and just be the guy paying the bills.
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Karma supposedly didnt know what he wanted to do so rich guy wanted to fly to see him with Apoc.
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This is unconfirmed but theres lots of evidence to support it that rich guy flew clay to frisco to help meet with karma in person. Clay tweeted out this pic of a steakhouse...
https://twitter.com/Claystestatus/1040436939416059910
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Google maps street view shows that restuarant is in Frisco...
https://www.google.com/maps/@33.0786056,-96.8266338,3a,75y,88.68h,63t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sesXQ0x2CWoJ3c49igD2ZRA!2e0!7i13312!8i6656
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So Karma agreed on the core 3 and they decided to try to get Gunless since they heard they were leaving the scene after selling teej to optic and knowing they didnt have alot of money to invest into cod. Gunless didnt want to go to team rich guy because he wanted to play with formal on LG. Someone said rich guy was going to buy him anyway for 200k but then changed his mind when he found out gunless’s contract would end on December 31st so he’d only have him for one event then he could walk away for free to LG if he wanted. The word on the street is the core 3 convinced rich guy to still go after him bc if they placed top 4 at vegas they would be locked into a league spot and it would be risky for him to tank and be stuck in the qualifier where anything can happen.
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That weekend is also when holly had her birthday and rich guy wanted to help win over holly so karma would sign. The story is rich guy took hollys group out at a club with vip service that cost maybe 5000 then a strip club afterwards. She told them to not take pics of him and apoc and it was some big surprise. She supposedly spent alot of time talking to him on a couch in the corner. I posted more details about it here before...
https://www.reddit.com/codburnecomments/abxcvy/92918_some_stuff_about_rich_guy/
Here's a portion of it...

i know alot of u are wondering who rich guy is bc crim confirmed today he exists and partly confirmed what i posted about him going over to karmas house and seeing he was already there. i dont know exactly who it is but a few ppl DMd me a few likely suspects that i wont name without more proof. maybe u guys can help out here. When i posted about crim running into him i thought it was insane timing but now i think rich guy was there in frisco for a week.
i dont post stuff without hearing from ppl first and if it sounds crazy i wait even longer before doing it and with crim kinda confirming what i said in my other post i decided to. A few weeks ago someone DMd saying that their friend in frisco met rich guy but he didnt know who he was at the time. the story is holly had a birthday where she invited her twitch subs to show up. she said the plan was to go out to a nightclub to meet up with ppl and she didnt say who it was. when they got there some big guy met them outside and walked them past a huge line right into the club and they had vip and bottles of goose and champ all night on the mysterious dudes tab at a vip table while holly hung out with him for alot of the night talking on the couch. then they went to a strip club. my source said his friend swears this was rich guy.

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Here's a pic of Apoc at the party...
https://imgur.com/a/mMQh2rk
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Tweets of hollys videos from the party...

1. https://twitter.com/HollyyLive/status/1043722384035987458
2. https://twitter.com/HollyyLive/status/1043721923992141826
3. https://twitter.com/thekatebaby/status/1041561065992192000

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Ive later been told some of those ppl at hollys party were...

1. https://twitter.com/iElegantay
2. https://twitter.com/VyviesCoD
3. https://twitter.com/thekatebaby
4. https://twitter.com/OGBeattie
5. https://twitter.com/FeelsGoodClap
6. https://twitter.com/62yKreJ
7. https://twitter.com/AllysGotGame

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I think Clayster left the morning of but I think ppl at the barlow house saw him when he went to visit.
This was the weekend before the 5v5 announcement so they thought the roster if it stayed 4 would be john karma gunless clayster. If it went to five and faze still wouldnt sell attach, I heard they were looking at jurd, felo, bance, shockz, censor, or slacked. Someone told me rich would of wanted dashy bc hes a fan of his but he knew he was already signed to optic.
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Remember rich guy was paying for apoc to live in the usa the whole time so I heard he stayed there in frisco for 2 weeks. The announcement happens that week that its 5v5 and I heard rich guy and apoc watched it happen with the barlows in their house. Optic guys said karma didnt answer his phone all day so crim decided to go over there the next day to find out what was going on. All the teams were calling him trying to get him but I heard from someone close to holly that karma really wanted to go to rich guy by then. So I posted about this before but I had the details wrong…the old post is here:
https://www.reddit.com/codburnecomments/abxcp4/92418_karma/
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What really happens is crim goes to karmas house in the morning but karma wont see him bc hes playing pubg and wont get off the game bc he didnt want to talk to him. Supposedly crim sat there for 4 hours and decided to leave when he figured out karma wouldnt talk. He almost gets to his car when another car pulls up and its rich guy, apoc, and a lawyer in it…they get out and holly says hi to them then they walk inside the house. So the word starts spreading and optic thinks karma is gone for sure if rich guy is going to fly in like that so higher ups at optic start calling karma and he still doesnt answer but then holly tells them they all went out to dinner. I heard hecz was about to go over there and whoop rich guys ass. Somebody sent me a clip from hollys stream showing apoc was at least in the house. Holly also talks to someone who tries to stay off camera.
https://vimeo.com/309676910
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The next day I heard optic started talking to other players and their big target was apathy. I heard aches got really mad and called karma and told him to sign back with optic because NV wanted to buy EG and it got stuck when optic talked to apathy. But apathy is too loyal at times and decided to stick with EG/NV after a raise even though splyce was trying to buy that roster because all their contracts expired in November and add jurd to them. So optic called eu about arcitys and he wasnt available and gunless wanted to go to LG but nade and rich guy would start a bidding war for him.
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So I heard john and clay were happy and rich guy started doing more face to face meetings with the other players he wanted.
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Another week goes by and Karma had a 150K buyout, clay had 100K, and johns contract was ending so no buyout at all. Then optic announces the next vision episode will have the cod roster announcement and everyone that was supposed to be on team rich guy thought it was gunless. Im not sure on the timing of this now but I heard sometime around rich guy then offered 300k each for zooma and attach for a five of john, zooma, karma, attach, clay but faze still wouldnt sell them.
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So all the players involved with team rich guy were watching it and were surprised when karma was announced...it aired during the last week of September. The story is he got really nervous because john’s contract ended second week of October so that was the earliest rich guy could sign him and he was scared he would get left out of competing again and was really stressed about waiting 2 more weeks. Someone really close to the other players told me they were surprised because the night before they all group texted and said everything was good including karma. After that clay wanted to stay on eunited and that left rich guy with just John. I heard he called up faze and offered them 800k for their whole roster but they said no. Ghost and splyce originally tried to buy them too. So that would of left john and a bunch of leftovers. 100t bought slasher and signed enable to complete their squad and Rise left the scene and sold loony to splyce and gunless to LG. I heard thats when rich guy decided it wasnt worth signing john + am players so he backed out. All ended good for john though bc I heard he got a raise to 25k. I heard rich guy was pissed but hes still friends all the guys but doesnt talk to karma but is friends with holly.
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In the end this is how the team rich guy wanted changed….
First… Scump, John, Attach, Slasher
Then… Scump, John, Attach, Clayster
Then… John, Attach, Clayster, Karma
Then… John, Clayster, Karma, Gunless
Then… John, Clayster, Karma, Gunless, Jurd/Felo/Shockz/Slacked/Bance/Censor
Finally… John, Clayster, Karma, Attach, Zooma
Then after Clay and Karma weren't joining and he tried to buy the whole Faze roster... John/Attach/Zooma/Reep/Priest
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I also heard rich guy offered 250k about a week after champs to get John out of his contract 2 months early but LG wanted to keep him and thought they could convince him. I gotta say steve LGs owner has big iron balls bc he could of lost john for free instead of taking the 250k but it worked out for him in the end so huge win for him. I think if karma smoked some green and chilled for a few weeks until john was free then the most likely roster would have been the John/Karma/ClaysteGunless core with rich guy taking a gamble on Gunless and adding one of Felo/Slacked to them because Shockz wanted to finish school and splyce wasn’t going to sell jurd and ended up getting loony, temp, aqua, and lamar.
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So karmas decision to go back to optic changed the fates of eU, LG, Optic, NV, possibly faze, and mostly rich guy. A different decision could of changed this season too….last year john signed his contract with LG late and it was for exactly 1 year. If he signed it 2 weeks earlier it obviously ended 2 weeks earlier and rich guy could of signed him before the 5v5 announcement and that probably could of gotten karma to commit because he wouldnt of been nervous about optic and not having a spot anymore. From there rich guy pays for clays buyout then the rest is history.
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Im also gonna say optic with J in charge is in a much better place now and the players feel like their being taken care of unlike during ww2. I heard rumors orgs are still looking for money and some reached out to rich guy to see if he would invest in them instead of making his own but either way I hope he comes into the scene if its franchise next year since he has balls trying to come in and get the best guys like nade did and makes things interesting.
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All the pros in the scene benefitted from nade and rich guy being around since they all got raises and other bonuses so their happy but I can see orgs being mad lol but thats what happens when you have nade opening at 10k then splyce coming in at 12k then rich guy going in at 20k lol.
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(9) CWL Vegas BO4

So rich guy was at Vegas but idk if he went inside at the event. He was at the casino with players and a few people came up and talked to him. He was doing $500 and $1000 roulette and blackjack so he attracted attention. I heard he was mainly playing with Felo, Clay, and Revan but holly and nufo came up to bet on roulette with them too. One egirl told me they talked to him and he was nice and bought people some shots. All the players including optic guys hung out with him at the hard rock bar after the event and then took them out for a wild night at the nightclubs and strip clubs and apparently he did that every night with different people in the scene. A caster told me they approached him and said his name and acted like they already met before when they didnt and he was chill about it. People were calling him Edgar in person including Scump.
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(10) Rich Guy’s Twitter

From what I know and what ive heard im 99% certain rich guy is this guy on twitter and he uses it as his own burner for online stuff only:
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d
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He has an interesting group of followers including Nadeshot, all the old and new Optic roster, along with some of their girlfriends, the faze roster, Clayster, Felo, Saints, and other big people in the scene. It doesn’t look like hes really active but he has pics of exotic cars, first class flights, receipts from bars, and he has a 100k pc setup to play video games thats linked on his page.
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It looks like he gifted 5000 subs on twitch during Christmas time according to his tweets and people saying thank you to him. That’s $25k.
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d/status/1077413765325471746
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Someone sent me this clip from scumps stream where he gifted him 500 tier 3s which is $12.5k and like a grand donation over an hour. He says he knows him IRL and he wants to hang out with him next time hes back in dallas and get dinner. He even jokes about edgar and hecz being close. This clip is after karma resigned with optic and bo4 was already out and it shows how much scump and rich guy/edgar are friends even though the team didnt work out.
https://vimeo.com/309676948
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He has another 400 subs in Crims that I think are tier 3. Then he has another 500 in rallieds and I think 300 in nadeshots supposedly.
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Theres also these tweets between holly and edgar that make it sound like theyre friends including meeting up in Vegas and at a bar in Frisco in November. Edgar even tweeted a location pic of where he was.

1. https://twitter.com/HollyyLive/status/1058893944795348992
2. https://twitter.com/HollyyLive/status/1069642626725343232
3. https://twitter.com/HollyyLive/status/1069639538560180227

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Finally the Edgar twitter has tweets of him being in cities when cod events were happening.
This is a bar in Seattle….
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d/status/987587069512892417
http://www.cowgirlsinc.com/ ​
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This is in LA the day before Anaheim and he tags a bigwig at EA in it. I think he works on battlefield…
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d/status/1008070575099559936
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This is in Ohio during champs…
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d/status/1030353082390142976
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This is a tweet exchange between edgar, clayster, and felo about meeting up to play blackjack Wednesday before vegas started while they were already there...
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d/status/1070477119858204672
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This is a tweet of edgar spending $12k at a place that if you google comes back as crazy horse strip club in vegas. Hitch said on his stream something about meeting rich guy there and having a wild night.
https://twitter.com/EdgarAllanPwn3d/status/1074563461361950721
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If I had to bet my life on it I’d bet this edgar guy on twitter and twitch is rich guy and he was hiding in plain sight.
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(11) What I know about EdgaRich guy from sources

• He sold his technology company for $650 million he founded and now is a executive at the company that bought his so hes one of those silicone valley guys.
• Hes sort of young and likes to party and goes out to clubs so lots of players like to hang around him.
• Hes about 6’3 and looks like hes half thai or hispanic. Hes like half white.
• He lives in New York city and travels alot and people have DMd me saying he has lots of business in Atlanta, Houston, San Francisco, Singapore, and all over Europe.
• He owns a bunch of other businesses now like fast food restaurants and more tech companies.
• He has alot of investment in EA and other stocks
• People said hes real smart and a chill guy but some people were intimidated by him.
• A cod team was supposed to only be the start for his org since they wanted to expand to every game quickly.
• I have what I think is his full name but don’t want to post it and link their non burner twitter without confirmation in case it’s wrong. If one of the players involved wants to secretly DM with me to confirm then I might come back and post it.

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(12) Final Thoughts

• I think Rallied is the guy that got edgarich guy into contact with optic since he was seen with him at the strip club in Atlanta after the event and hanging out with him in Seattle. It might be Felo too.
• I think Methodz knows what Scump and EdgaRich guy talked about at champs since I heard he went to dinner with them and they had nothing else to do since they got fried in groups.
• Optic is damn good and Dashy will soon be the best player in the game no question.
• I think its baller he went to meet players in person to sign them like its the NFL.
• There’s other small things that eventually led to Optic needing to make a roster change because it got so toxic. One of them Scump said was that Formal didn’t share the MVP money from Champs when all of them agreed to do it before. What Nade said before about players wanting to be friends with teammates first also happened here when Formal didn’t want to chill outside the game like Scump does with Crim, John, or Saints.
• I heard edgarich guy was planning on getting into cod during BO4 but tried to get in early when he saw the original Optic roster was available because of Crim’s AMA.
• EdgaRich guy was really going to spend over a million on buyouts on top of salary which is fucking crazy.
• I think Apoc could be working for Red Reserve now since he’s been posting pictures with them in Vegas.

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Thanks for reading and I will monitor this thread for a few days to answer a few questions possibly and add something I might remember later. If not then this is my last post until the next rostermania or if Rich guy gives me an interview lol.