Also in 1992, Price was arrested for tackling a jogger. At his arraignment Price said, "Needless to say, I don't think I did anything wrong." He pleaded no contest and was given a slap on the wrist.

That same year a judge dismissed felony sexual assault charges against Price after the complainant, a former employee of his, refused to testify, citing death threats. The same judge also dismissed assault charges against Price for beating up a television cameraman after the cameraman declined to testify. There's just a whole lot of declining to testify in this man's background.

In 1993 Price was arrested again in a protest at NorthPark mall in which a small child was trampled by a horse. A police official said, "Mr. Price, from our indications, surrounded himself with children as the officers tried to arrest him."

Price said it was "a case where you can't have no black folks interrupting white folks' Christmas."

The protest was against the police, not the mall. Price used the children as a human shield against horse attack. It was...uh...oh, forget it. The rest of it does not bear explanation.

Months later he was accused of pulling a gun on a motorist. No charges were filed. A short time later, he was charged with misdemeanor assault after throwing a glass of water in a man's face.

The next year Price was arrested again after he and a crowd of supporters surrounded a police officer and shoved him. The policeman quoted Price as telling him, "You can't stop me."

Sort of like, "Make me come to order!"

The next year he was arrested again for ignoring a police order to clear a street during a protest at Parkland Hospital. A month later he was arrested again for punching out a passerby at Parkland.

In 1997, a man named Derek Fagan-McHenry pleaded guilty to making terroristic threats—threatening to murder the guy who got his ankle broken if Price got convicted. State District Judge John Nelms gave him six months deferred adjudication and a $500 fine.

OK, I'm getting bored. Let's leave it at this. For the last 20 years, Dallas has been telling John Wiley Price, "Beat us! Curse us! Break our ankles and throw water in our faces! If you ever find yourself on trial for any of it, call up the jurors and threaten to kill their bitch asses. Whatever you do, we promise you one thing: We won't do nuthin'."

You know, I could go into a whole liberal guilt thing about how this isn't Price's fault, really. It's our fault. How can we expect him to do anything but break our ankles and throw water in our faces when we act like such gigantic, chicken-shit white pussies?

The poor kid. He's just reacting to the stimuli in his environment. It's our fault for failing to do a better job of mentoring him. Sure. I could say that.

But guess what? I just looked in my liberal guilt account, and that son of a bitch is empty! It's over-drawn in fact. It's got a penalty charge on it. If anything, I think Price owes me some guilt!

Meanwhile, nobody else is going to do anything. He comes that far from whacking the county judge in the face, and the rest of the commissioners sit there with shit-eating grins on their faces.

Oh, my. Oh, now. We better look this up in Robert's Rules of Order. OK, here it is. Should a member of the body lose patience with the presiding officer and knock him upside the head causing loss of consciousness, another member may move for an adjournment, but the motion must be seconded. Meanwhile, should a member of the audience shout, "You are a dead bitch," then all of the members should flee the chamber.

No. No. It's not funny. There's only one thing that can be done. Somebody has got to turn this situation around. And as one of the biggest, oldest, liberalest guilty white pussies I know, I believe it's my job.

I'm gonna whup his ass. I'm gonna do it for Dallas.

Now, he may or may not know this, but I happen to be trained in certain arts. Yeah, that's right. I got a few moves. I am fully trained in what are called the liberal arts. He won't even see it coming.

I want to make one thing very clear. This is not a terroristic threat. I repeat, not a terroristic threat. So forget about that shit. In order to be a terroristic threat, a threat has to be terrifying.

No, this is just what's going to happen. Jim Schutze. John Wiley Price. The Thrillah on Marilla. Get your money down, folks. It's going to happen.

I can run through a hurricane and don't get wet. When John Wiley meets me, he'll pay his debt.



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