In the mid-'70's, my parents lived in Coconut Grove, FL. My dad was under his truck fixing something when two hare krishnas came a knocking, peddling their bullshit. My mom answered the door, and was holding her doberman, Sooner, who was barking and growling at the hare krishnas. My mom is one of those entirely too nice types that always gets taken advantage of. She is trying to tell these two to leave when Sooner snaps at one of them. One of them kicks Sooner and the other pushes my mom back into the house. By then, my dad has climbed out from under the truck and is walking up to them, about to kick some ass, when, bang...lights out. Another hare krishna had walked up, picking up a tire iron/wrench/etc., and hit him in the back of the head. I don't know why my mom didn't just let Sooner tear their asses up, but she never let go of his collar. When my dad recovered, my mom told him what happened and it was on. He called his buddy, they armed up, and headed to the hare krishna temple. My mom said my dad dug this beat-up axe handle with leather wrapped around the handle out of his truck and they just walked down to the temple. She drove down to the temple after locking Sooner and the house up, and witnessed the severe beating the hare krishnas took. :D
