Enrique came out to the streets to share the story of his linage. His was unique and different as most due to circumstances in his life. 

Enrique started to speak off the corner of Main St. and MLK.

"Ladies and gents I've come to speak about my own linage. Where I've come from and where I've been and where I want to continue to be. First and foremost I want to recognize my El Salvadorian heritage."

A few people started to form a crowd to listen to Enrique. 

"El Salvador is a dangerous place. Nobody is safe there. The government thinks they have a hold of MS 113, but its really MS 113 who have a hold on the government. Making it a dangerous place to work, and ultimately a place to live. My roots were in carpentry. My father and his father before, and even his father before, were all carpenters. We all aspired to be like Jesus. You know the holy man."

The small crowd had now turned into a larger one. Ladies accompanied by their kids had now stopped to listen to Enrique. A few people even said out loud, 'Did he just compare himself to Jesus?'.

"Wait a second... I didn't compare myself to Jesus. I just said we all aspired to be like him. We are devoted catholics after all. Now back to where I was and back to the part where I said I was catholic. I am a Catholic by heart, however the devil has instilled a few things in me that are not liked by many. And not to mention, they're weird as fuck."

The crowd took a gasp as the word fuck had just been said. 

"When I started following my father in working with wood, I kind of had this problem. Its not really a big problem, other kids do this too. Something like 3% of all kids do this. But whatever. For some reason and I don't know why, but I used to just sit around my father's woodshop and would whittle dicks."

The crowd all looked at each other and said "what?".

"I used to make wooden dicks."

Someone in the crowd shouted "You're a weirdo for making dicks!"

"Yeah I know its weird. Here I am just a little kid in my father's wood shop building a cabinet with him and then when we took breaks I'd take out my wood dick from my pocket and start whittling again. I couldn't stop. It got so bad I didn't even want to help my dad anymore with the family business. Anytime I had a chisel in my hand, or just a small blade, I had to whittle a dick. This really was the devil's handy work. An innocent boy who couldn't stop whittling dicks... has the devil written all over it."

'This is gross. Come on Tommy, we're leaving.', said a mother to her son as she pulled him by the arm trying to escape the vulgar story.

"Eventually I was caught by a family friend, Consuela. She turned me in. I was done. I was done doing what I couldn't control no longer; making phallic shaped objects out of beautiful wood. And I was sent to the church the very next day.

I was sent to Father Miguel. Father Miguel was a conservative Catholic that had no regards to joking or anything of the sort. He lived the bible, and the bible lived through him. He was a devout Catholic. And thats when the beatings first started. I was spanked until they thought the devil and his penises were out of my head. Endless punishment. It was like they were exercising a demon but were really only excising their paddle on my ass. When I thought the beatings would never end, they did a month later.

I was now a new young man. Free of penises and a devoted Catholic."

A few people in the crowd said Amen after hearing this. Something straight out of a play about gospel and baptists.

"I thought I was free of this mess. You know the sexual stuff, the devil had instilled in me... It was maybe about six months after the beatings had stopped that I started to write. This was the only thing I was allowed to do. I was no longer allowed to work with sharp tools, however I was given a pencil. You would have thought I would have started to just draw penises, but instead I wrote. And I wrote a lot. I wrote about God, Jesus, the virgin Mary... pretty much anything church related. But then one day these words started filling the paper... They were no longer stories of religious entities, instead they were provocative, filled with innuendos and sex. I was 13 at the time and between hormones and my ties with dicks, I continued to be a sexual deviant. Listen, I wasn't some rapist or anything violent. I was just a kid with weird obsessions, addictions. Just this time I was writing sex stories for my peers."

Enrique took a long pause in his story to see who still remained. He knew the crowd would disperse after awhile. It was a weird story to begin with... And it was just getting to the part where he moved to the States.

"So my parents eventually found out again. Remember Consuela from earlier? Well that bitch saw me writing my story entitled 'I is for Incest'. I was an only child, I have no idea why I came up with that. But she turned me in again... She literally saw the title of my book and ran right back to my parents. My parents didn't know what to do anymore. The church hadn't fixed me, the beatings surely didn't. They were tired of the embarrassment and the negativity it brought to our family. The decided to pull me out of that shit hole they called a school, made me say goodbye to my only friend, Pedro, and force me to move to the United States. Up there was my uncle Pablo. He was a rich, well connected guy. A firm man too. He didn't take any bullshit from anyone and seemed to be the guy who'd set me straight."

He noticed the crowd was pretty much gone, except for a few. He decided to stop there and pick up the story later...

"Sorry but I need to be somewhere... I'll be back to finish the rest of my story and how I got the name Shockwave."

FearlessJ was one of the very few remaining in the crowd at the completion of the speech.

FearlessJ appeared to have removed his shoe.  The crowd slowly moved away from the area of which FearlessJ had occupied.  

The crowd oo'd and aahhh'd as it became more apparent what FearlessJ was up to. 

FearlessJ had a sock in one hand and the anaconda in the other.  FearlessJ was aroused by the speech.  It was hot.  

FearlessJ planted his seed in his dirty sock.  The sock had a hole in it from the force of the explosion.  The seed was now planted among the crowd.

The crowd was pleased.