Samuel “Smokey” Bellicose

BORN: Jan 26th 1983
HEIGHT: 5’ 6’’
WEIGHT: 115lbs
HOMETOWN: Lincoln Park, New Jersey
HIRED: 5/23/2006
WEAPON OF CHOICE: Running away, vulgar language, sleeping
SKILLS: Do it yourself first aid application, not dying.
HOBBIES: drinking, smoking, being arrested, eating all our food,  complaining. 

        12 steps can be a lot when you’ve downed eleven Xanax™, can’t remember if this is your first or fifth 40oz. in an hour, and you’re calling your mom to wire you some money to keep the strip club from tossing you out so that you don’t die of hypothermia on the street before the day comes. Yeah 12 steps can be a lot. That’s why cops make you walk approximately that many when they book you for making lewd gestures at the manikins in the Banana Republic™ at 4AM. 12 steps can be a lot when you’re Smokey Bellicose, our trusty medic. The 12 step Alcoholic’s Anonymous sobriety program never sat well with Mr. Bellicose, but always one to get an A for Affort he tried. One step later, a few drinks deeper, and no closer to sobriety Smokey will regale you with marvelous tales from his past:

            “Look at me. Hey, look at me. I’m an alcoholic. Are you listening to me? I’m an alcoholic. I was born an alcoholic and I’ll die an alcoholic. My dad was an alcoholic. I’m a very complicated man. My mom. Well my mom. People are always getting down on you for speaking bad about your momsususs, but I don’t think she was a nice lady. Are you offended? No? Then sit back down. This guy’s, this guy’s alright! Hey that’s just what I think.”

            We found him on the late “Jim Rage’s Elite Zombie Hunting Couch of Inner Relaxation (or JREZHCIR for short) after a long night of zombie hunting. We were confused as to how he got in. To phrase it differently we knew how he “got in”, he broke in through the window, but which window was the question. For Smokey had broken three windows, stolen are TV, replaced it with a model of equal or lesser value, eaten all the peanut butter (nothing else), locked the bathroom door (from the inside), and extensively prank phone called our second line before passing out on the couch. Tired and completely unprepared to handle the intruder we figured he’d choke on his own vomit and the problem would take care of itself by the afternoon. An early riser, Drew Parazynski awoke to find that he had stolen one of our Subarus™, run over our dog, “Tortilla”, and his own foot. More than a little bit vexed, because he had just picked up dog food, Drew put on his angry face and went to give the intruder the proper welcome we had failed to give him the night previous. Just as Drew was about to execute his “rainmaker” he noticed the expertly crafted ankle splint Smokey had created out of his pant leg and our dog’s leg. A little bit impressed, a little bit pissed off, Drew invited him in for a late breakfast.

            While Irishing up his whiskey with a bit of coffee, Smokey explained that he was a very complicated man and that he’d come all the way from Lincoln Park, New Jersey because he’d heard from his friend, who’d herd from his friend, that we needed a medic. This was indeed true, in a line of work where a simple blood born pathogen is what separates you from walking annihilation and your next pay check, a medic is something that we absolutely cannot do without, and we’d been doing without for the past 15 years. His resume was a bit scant, being a menu from the burger joint he used to work at, but he swore by the stains on his jacket that he had once performed the Heimlich on his friend who was choking on a wine cork.

            What the hell, we gave him the job. Two weeks later our office was blown up. Hundreds died as they were dragged to Hell™ by skeletal beasts from the ether. Smokey slept through the whole thing. Months later after we had returned from France we found that he had turned our property into a bowling alley/shooting range.

            Widely thought to be an invasive species Smokey Bellicose has aided us on many an excursion now and it has become apparent that Smokey has all the gusto and none of the proper training for the job. Fearlessly running through danger zones and applying whiskey to any bruise he can spot Smokey provides an extra sense of danger that our job was obviously lacking before.