Special Guest Update: Brandon's Great-Grandfather Fights Alone!

Sims here. I'm still recuperating from last night's update about the Presitron, which was so awesome that I blew my own mind. Fortunately, Brandon finally decided to come through with his guest topic, so I can take the night off. Submitted for your approval, a tale of violence and mystery from the Wallace Family History.

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Click to Wallace-Size It!

Frequent readers of the ISB have heard many tales of the self-proclaimed "Random Negro" known as Brandon Wallace. It was I who discussed the Dream Fight between Daniel LaRusso and Leroy Green with Chris while we were watching The Last Dragon the other night. It was then that I noticed that Leroy was seriously channelling Def Jam: Fight For NY. I mean I’ve seen this movie many times, seeing as for many years it was viewed at our annual 4th of July cookouts, (sadly this tradition ended at the dawn of this new millennium), but this time for some reason we realized that he was brutally beating these guys. I was waiting for his Blaze meter to go off and see KO flashing as throw this guy into a limo. That’s when I remembered a story that my dad told me about my great-grandfather, a story that will forever make me proud to bear the Wallace family name.

Everyone knows the old saying, never forget where you come from, but not many people really do. I mean, yeah they remember their core family and some cousins and such, but when it comes to a family’s true history people don’t know jack, and that, my friend, is a very sad thing.

I mean everyone has crazy stories about some whacked out uncle or some drunken aunt. You know what I’m talking about. I know Chris does. Heck, stories about crazy relatives are some of the greatest stories ever told. Nathan Summers knew that his parents were a) a leader and founding member of one of the most kick ass group of heroes of all time, and b) a cloned demonic queen. What he didn’t know was that that was just the tip of the iceberg.

[Note: I've mentioned this before, but Brandon's totally gay for Cable. Bear with him.]

Now while most of our family trees aren’t as fantastical as the Summers Clan, many of their stories are still worth telling. This is one of them.

America.

The late 1800s.

In many towns across this great land, strangers were arriving. Strangers with a hidden past.

In an unnamed South Carolina town in Chesterfield county, such a man appeared.

It is not known when this man came to this town.

It is not known why this man came to this town.

But what is known... is that business was about to pick up.

Columbus Wallace was known as a very smart, hardworking and badass mo-fo who took no shit from anyone... unless he was paid to. See, he started and ran his own business operating a Honey Wagon. What's a Honey Wagon, you ask? Simple. He took care of shit.

No, seriously. He'd empty the crappers that people dug in their yards. He was the first in the town. He was also the first to have electricity in his house, and the only person who managed to build a house when the government seized all lumber in the country during WWI. Columbus soon met the woman that he would share his life with. Her name was Historia, and together they would have 7 children. Their children’s exploits would include building electric generators from scratch, moonshining, safe cracking and car chases--Dukes Of Hazzard style. But those are stories for another day.

Like I said nobody knew a whole lot about Columbus Wallace. When people asked where he was from, or even how old he was, he wouldn't tell them. He wouldn’t even let you take his picture. There was some speculation that he may have been from Virginia because he was once seen talking to some strangers who came from around that way and who promptly left after speaking to him. He was known as the strong silent type: A man of few words, and if those few weren’t enough, then you were probably screwed.

Now at this point you're probably wondering what was so special about this guy that prompted Sims to get the story for his blog. Well, here it is:

Columbus went into town, minding his own business, when the son of one Boyd Watts came across his path. Now a few things to remember: Deep South. Turn of the century. Black man (Wallace), white man (Watts).

Now Watts was feeling a bit chatty that day, and apparently he felt like conversing with Columbus. Well Columbus wanted to go on about his business, and Watts was not pleased. So he began to trash talk Columbus in the middle of the street, in the middle of this southern-ass town in front of white and black townsfolk, and the police. Finally, Columbus had enough, and Boyd had moments to live.

Columbus drew his pocket knife and in one smooth motion sliced open Watts' stomach and left him holding his intestines in his hands, Hannibal style.

Columbus then went on his way. Later on he returned home, and the police followed, along with some very angry white folk. When they arrived at his doorstep they encountered Historia. They called for Columbus to come out and give himself up, but Historia wasn’t having any of that. She told them to kindly fuck off and returned inside the house where they ate some dinner, had some sex, and went to sleep.

And that was the end of all that.

So there you have it. Just one crazy twig off my family tree. Now let's see how many fun stories you can find in your family’s past. Trust me, you’ll be surprised.

My family isn’t the violent type, but we will choke a bitch if we have to.

--Brandon Wallace