How he got tangled up with this motley crew was beyond him.  Well maybe not.  It was a simple case of too much ale and several… um lets just say sporting events?  Okay, okay, they were fights.  Pierce didn't look for trouble but trouble looked for him.  He was so much bigger than the others that once some simpleton drank too much, belief in conquering the world usually resulted.  And of course, the dummy’s would choose the biggest one around to “test their metal” on.

Pierce never lost a fight.  Big or small, drunk or sober, one or ten, any who started the fight would succumb to Pierces mighty blows.  On occasion, Pierce would “accidentally” put a few of the towns “finest” in a sorry state and Pop would really be angry.

He could hear Morgan, or Jeremy’s voice ringing in his ears and it made him smile, “your old man is really going to be mad!” they’d say.

     “Yeah, yeah, let me worry about that!” Pierce would respond.

Sure enough, Pop was usually pretty angry.  This would result in Pop commanding him to do the work of three men, digging up manure piles and cleaning out stables.  And if he didn't do it as expediently as Pop wanted or he thought Pierce was slacking, Pop would apply the “stiffer rod of education.”

He must’ve dug up a couple of hundred stables by now.  At first Pop wanted only the crystalline stuff buried by the animal’s excrement.  But after Pop studied the books further he wanted it all.  He made contraptions to turn it over repeatedly and eventually the piles turned into the crystals he wanted.

This was probably why Pierce was so strong, in more ways than one.  But a bath usually took care of the stench.  His muscle was needed to remove the manure and crystals.