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Beau Smith

by beau “Too much Egg Nog” Smith

 

Just a couple more weeks and the big day will be here. Christmas! For as long as I can remember, December has always been my favorite month of the year. It’s cold outside, it’s my birthday, and of course… Christmas! It seems that most folks are even a little nicer in December. Yeah, I know they should be like that all year ‘round, but most aren’t, so I’m happy with ‘em sortin’ themselves out for one month out of the year.

With just a couple of weeks until Christmas I wanted to make sure that I spent some testosterone time at a place that would reflect the holiday season. I needed a place with snow and cold weather. That place would be Vermont. The person that I needed to talk to was marvel Comics artist — Scot Eaton.

Scot Eaton

For those of you who don’t keep up with who’s who in comics, Scot Eaton is one of the finest artists and craftsman in comics. He has been at it for well over 10 years and is getting better every day. He has worked for most all of the major publishers and has spent most of his time working on characters that most of you know very well. Characters like Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, The X-Men, green Lantern, Swamp Thing, and many more. He even did two years at the CrossGen compound doing some extra nice work on characters that are long gone.

You may not know, but for a few years running, Scot was the heavyweight weightlifting champion of the state of Vermont. This boy has bench pressed 500 pounds! That’s pretty darn good for a man that stands 5 feet 10 inches and weighs a little over 250 pounds. Scot has always been into bodybuilding and weightlifting. He is a true student of throwing iron around. I’ve gone to Scot for tips on many an occasion. If you’ve ever meet Scot you won’t soon forget him. He looks like he should be a WWE Superstar tossing the likes of John Cena and The Undertaker around the ring. He is a fireplug with arms and legs. sometimes I think that marvel Comics has modeled The Juggernaut after Scot.

Scot could be the Juggernaut…

What you also might not know about Scot is that he is one of the nicest fellas you will ever meet. He reminds me so much of Hoss Cartwright from the old TV series Bonanza. A good heart, a sweet nature and… THE very LAST guy IN THE world YOU would ever WANNA TICK OFF! Do not back this guy into a corner. Do not insult his family or friends and do not lay an unwanted hand upon his person. There is a reason his lovely wife Claudette has a sign on his studio door that reads: DO NOT FEED THE animal OR STICK YOUR HAND IN HIS CAGE.

Scot and I have been buddies for a while now. He’s a part of my “Cornbread Mafia” that I have in the comic book business. He’s an Earp Brother. Those are my very closest friends. So needless to say I was looking forward to packing up the truck and heading up north to Vermont. I was lucky to have the Christmas spirit all the way up on the trip. lots of cold weather and either snow or snow flurries. I had my Dean Martin and ZZ top Christmas CDs playing along the way. best of all, I had my own self-satisfying company to entertain me on the trip.

A page from Iron Man/Thor #1 drawn by Scot Eaton.

It was planned that I meet Scot at one of his favorite local bars in the area that he now lives. The name of the place was The E.R. It wasn’t long after I go there that I found out why.

It was gettin’ to be evening when I reached The E.R. I’d estimate that there was roughly around a foot of snow on the ground with more coming down… There was an odd mixture of vehicles in the snow covered parking lot. I recognized Scot’s four wheel drive Jeep along with a few other SUVs and assorted working man’s pick up trucks. then there were all these what I call “Units”. Units are company cars. Boring-all-look- the-same four door cars. You know… Ford Taurus, Chevy Malibu’s… that sorta stuff.

The E.R. had some cheap Christmas lights stung up around the windows and the entrance. looked like they were the kind that got left up all year round. I parked the truck and high stepped through the knee-high snow to the front door of the place. I opened the door and stepped in out of the blowing snow. A beer mug flew past my right ear and smashed into the wall next to my head.

I immediately felt like I was at home.

I quickly looked the situation over. I had to. Bodies and various bar fixtures were flying all around at a high rate of speed. What I saw was like what would happen if you had Dolph Lundgren direct a John Wayne bar room brawl. It didn’t take me long to tell the locals from the non-locals. The units parked outside should’ve tipped me off right off.

The locals were hard working regular guys, men that rolled their sleeves up and got the job done. Farmers, power line workers, mechanics and construction workers (no cracks about this being a village people bar.) The non-locals were the owners of the units. You’ve seen a lot of these guys in the news as of late. certified Public Accountants all jacked up on steroids and other growth enhancement drugs. You see ‘em with their boring black pants, short sleeve white shirts, black ties and pocket protectors with a minimum of eight pens and pencils stuck in them. The ones who were sporting that balding horseshoe ring of hair were back to back with the ones with the black, tapped, horn-rimmed glasses. Each one of these hopped up accountants weighed in at least 275 to 300 pounds. Their muscles had muscles and there were veins on top of veins. It was Revenge Of The Nerds mixed with Conan The Barbarian.

In the middle of the room I see Scot. He had one of these CPAs in a crushing headlock. The accountant’s face was all red as Scot applied the pressure. Scot spots me and in his typical laidback tone says “Hey, Beau. I was wondering when you were gonna show up.” with that said, he squeezed a little harder and the ‘roid rage accountant passed out.

I ducked under a flying bar stool and put a boot into the steroid shrunken testicles of a pencil pushing three pounder with a serious case of acne. I followed that up with an elbow to his nose, blood spurted across his face like a bad paint job.

Beau knows bar fights. A page from Wynonna Earp: The Yeti Wars graphic Novel. Art By Enrique Villagran.

I looked up to see Scot standing on the pool table. It was like something outta one of those old Steve Reeves Hercules movies. He had an accountant up over his head and tossed him into three other on rushing CPAs. I could tell by the look on Scott’s face he was having a pretty good time. That’s when I saw a huge bean counter choking the Vermont sap out of a local. I knew there was no way I was gonna take this tax form lovin’ titan out with fist to the head, so I took my belt off from around my manly waist. From behind I took the belt and wrapped it around his 22-inch neck. I made sure that I placed it right where his Adam’s apple should be and then I proceeded to pull on that belt with every ounce of my 163 pounds. He dropped the local, I couldn’t tell if I was hurting him or just pissing him off.

Normally when I’ve used this trick on guys much bigger than me they start to cave after a few seconds. Not this freak. He started staggering around with me on his back pulling on the belt. His neck was all puffed up as he clawed at the belt with his massive hands. I arched back with a hard line tug of the belt. I could hear him finally starting to gag or maybe he was just reciting tax laws. I didn’t know, didn’t care.

He went down on his knees, making him about my height. He was a big ol’ boy. It was then that the local guy I helped out stood there with a pool cue and did a Mickey Mantle home run number on this beefed up Barry Bonds of the accounting world. Teeth flew into the air like fireworks on the fourth of July.

Scot was busy giving head butts away like they were party favors. nothing dents that massive bullet shaped head of Eaton’s. I should’ve been paying attention because it was about then that one of those penny pinchin’ throwbacks back-handed me and sent me sliding across the floor. I landed just under the pool table, dazed, but ok. There was a bar towel on the floor. I grabbed it and then reached up on top of the pool table and grabbed a billiard ball. I stuck it in the towel and wrapped it up so that I had the ends as handles. I then got up and started swingin’ it with deadly results.

I busted heads, eyeballs, knees, guts, balls, and other parts of the body too numerous to mention. ‘Roid Ragers were falling left and right. I saw Scot double clothesline two of the accountants and send them into a heap on the floor. From there he did a Popeye speed bag number on a guy’s face. hard to believe, but he made the guy uglier than he already was. By this time I had run out of CPAs to DOA.

Not Scot.

He had the last of the adding machine addicts in a Russian leg sweep. once on the floor Scot slapped the dazed monster into a Mongolian man Breaker. It’s a deadly submission hold that I’ve only seen once before in my whole life. That was back in 1977 when I had the honor of seeing the greatest bouncer to ever live do his work in a bar in Mississippi. That man was dirty Dick Murdoch-The Mississippi Mauler.

Within seconds, the accountant had not only tapped out, but had passed out. Scot calmly got off the floor and dusted his large frame off, looked around to inspect the damage then smiled and asked me if I wanted a beer.

The local police showed up and carted the trouble making accounting firm off. No charges were made on the locals. seems that the police looked at this as a community watch situation and let it go at that. I just love local law enforcement in a small town.

By this point, Scot and I found one of the tables that wasn’t busted and we sat down with some very cold beers and some pork rinds. I thanked Scot for the tour of local color. He mentioned that one day they were gonna open a real gym in town to work out in. It seems that The E.R. was getting’ a little shell shocked from these local throw downs the boys had been having.

Lucky for me my recorder hadn’t been busted in the big dance. I pulled it out and told Scot that now was a real good time to ask him some testosterone test questions. Scot ripped open another bag of pork rinds and we began our little Q & A. Here’s how it went:

Beau: Scot, what annoying celebrity would you like to smack in the head with a shovel or stab in the eye with a fork?

Scot: Well, Beau… I would raise a shovel–way up high–crack Rob Reiner on the backswing— and bring it down squarely on Martin Sheen’s melon. What? It’s maybe 4 feet off the ground, right? I’d hit him hard enough to form the shape of his dome in the metal, Beau. Reiner and Sheen were kind enough to personally campaign with my former governor, Howard Dean. then after he failed to win a single primary with the exception of his home state–they segued deftly to John Kerry’s side, with a similar result. It wasn’t that long ago that those two and a lot of others had Dean picking out drapes for the Oval Office. They were painfully wrong about the mood of the country and I feel like they should pay for Hollywood’s inflated opinion of themselves.

Sadly, my mom and dad dearly love Sheen and that whole West Wing scam he had going on. In fact everyone I know did, but me–and I brought the shovel.

Beau: other than your own beautiful and understanding wife, Claudette, name some of the sexiest babes on the planet.

 

Scot: Lemme see… As you said the lovely Claudette is first and foremost in my heart. close second would be Rachel Hunter. Claudia Black is fantastic and so is Angelina Jolie–just as she is in sky Captain, eye patch and all! Charisma Carpenter is sweet and I know you love her as well, but my kinky dark horse pick would be Madusa Micelli from the old WCW. I guess I’m just sweet on any girl who can drive a monster truck and kick my ass. speaking of which, I dig your personal friend and action star, Cynthia Rothrock. I really like her!

Beau: Scot, you are so right… Charisma Carpenter is a real beauty and has great legs. You also hit it on the head about Cynthia. Not only cold she kick your big ol’ butt, but she is a really nice lady as well. Okay… next question… name some manly movies that every real man should see if he wants to rev up his testosterone.

 

 

Scot: always start with the Duke, brother. The Cowboys, The Shootist, and my fave-The Undefeated. I have a soft spot for the Commacheros. very few people know it but it’s a movie loosely based around how you and I first met! The Wind and the Lion starring Sean Connery and Brian Keith is primo. and before everyone loved The Chronicles of Riddick I had watched Pitch Black about twenty times. Gotta also mention the one movie I have watched more times than any other in my life–My name is Nobody. Patton is probably the best depiction of the comics industry I’ve seen yet. and The Rundown is the best unauthorized maximum Jack film ever made! (Maximum Jack is a secret comic book project Scot and I have created.)

Beau: very good picks, amigo. You named some of MY personal favorites there. nice plug on our maximum Jack project too… I knew if you hung around with me long enough you’d become a shameless self-promoting machine like my own self-loving self. here is you next question, Scot – What manly CDs are ya listening to right now. Is it stuff that motivates ya to draw or bust heads?

Scot: I’ll give you what’s on my table today. everything by DIO including Black Sabbath. OK–some Ozzy, too. Black label society properly blessed by Paul Pelletier. A band called brand new sin and Edguy. metal bands one and all. I listened to each and every Hammerfall album while I worked on