Would You Rather be Called Princess?!?!?!?

After the Dawgs were established and well rooted in the culture of the Tombs, a new breed of "pup" came along.

One of the guys was named Tom. Nice kid overall, but his damn voice cracked more than a fucking windshield getting pelted with gravel from an uzi... damn annoying sometimes...

Well anyway, GF decided that the kid was "worthy" of admission to being a full fledged DAWG and decided to "initiate" him right proper.

Tom was maybe 125 pounds vs. GFs 240 and GF was deceivingly fast given his appearance... he actually was an all-state sprinter in HS at almost the same size.

In the back corner of the store, where we pulled the trailers was the entrance to the warehouse. It also led to the upstairs restrooms, the deli department and the cardboard compator - a beast of a machine that would crush cardboard with hydraulic rams so that it could be bailed and recycled.

GF caught the little bastard at the front of the store (mind you, we're open for business) - carries him to the back room and duct-tapes him to a support pole in the warehouse. The only thing funnier would have been to have dropped his pants while he was back there. (Hell, we might have and I just don't remember because I burst a blood vessel from laughing so damn much!)

We dubbed him "Zippy" and "PinHead"... Most of the Dawgs had nicknames and that became his for a short time... one day, he asked GF "Why do you call me pinhead?" and GF with a straight face responded "Would you rather be called PRINCESS??"

Beer flew out of people's noses with that one and the heimlich maneuver was performed on at least 3 people who damn near choked to death on whatever it was that we were using the beer to wash down. Happily, all Dawgs were accounted for and survived the evening.