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Designed by: Steve “Mobilebattlebunker” Reimert

Parts list:

Blackout head (2003)

Ripper chest and arms (2003 v3)

Flint legs (2003 v8)

*no paint LBC very playable*

Code Name: Knuckles:

Group affiliation: Renegades

Prior Group Affiliation: Dreadnoks

File Name: Owens, Roger M. (Mickey)

P.O.S.: Mercenary

S.O.S.: Hand to hand combat instructor

P.O.B.: Mechanicsburg PA.

Serial Number: 873- 923D- 7534

Biography:

Mickey Owens was quite possibly one of the best amateur boxers on the East coast all through his junior career. His family was his greatest support. Especially fond of his little sister he did his best to give her a comfortable life, even when his parents refused to take the money he offered from winning bouts. For every boxer the day you turn “Pro” is a day for celebration but for Mickey he just saw another fight. He had a stellar record, not perfect but good enough to be give the title of Sports Illustrated Rookie of the year in 2000. He was on top of the world and didn’t even realize it. His focus and drive just pushed him further and the further. Mickey hit the top of the boxing game in 2001. He was fighting for titles and won the middle weight championship from the 4 year title veteran. What his focus didn’t allow him to see was the gross corruption rampant in the global boxing community. He was told by his manager and other to throw fights and at every turn the rural Pennsylvanian boy spat the same answer “Honor”. Refusing to throw a match is risky business for Boxers as Mickey soon found out the consequences weren’t just on his broad shoulders.

He returned home to present his parents with a brand new F350 for the farm only to find it in cinders. With his parents and sister dead he lost all motivation and in it his place in the professional boxing world. It was as if something snapped out of place in the young mans mind. He took the remainder of his money and the brand new pick up truck and started driving south. Taking up jobs in hole in the wall towns he began to run into trouble with the law. Branded as a drunken brawler his reputation spread. Spending a few cold nights in jail embittered the ex-boxer and led him down a slippery slope. Soon he hired himself out to southern gang leaders and drug runners as muscle. They called him “Yankee Knuckles” for his place of birth and skill in bare fisted combat. While in Florida on business Knuckles ran into a group of loud mouths in a backwoods everglades bar. He had ordered the last grape soda and that didn’t bode well with the locals of whom grape soda happened to be their favorite. He wiped the floor with three of the five loud mouths and threw a fourth through a window. It wasn’t until the one they called “Pig” stood up did the fight get interesting.

Pig calmly set his copy of Othello on the bar and then something incredibly scary happened within the mind of this behemoth. For the first time in his life Mickey was intimidated. The Pig charged him and Mickey did his best to dodge. After a few minutes of exchanging blows the great behemoth fell to the floor with a ground shaking thud. After the proper combination of jabs and a pipe to the neck Mickey had done what few men have. He had defeated the Dreadnoks in a bar fight. The one they called “Buzzer” seemed to act as the voice of the group and within seconds of regaining consciousness offered the Yankee Knuckles a position in what he called a “Promising Organization”. The deal was secured before a shadowy man who listened to the testimony of Buzzer and witnessed the still unconscious Road Pig. Mickey could only see his eyes but knew something sinister was behind them. The raspy synthesized voice had secured his fate. Mickey Owens, a small town boy from PA and once middle weight title holder of the world now worked for the “Dreadnoks”. This was made official by a brand on his right arm. A painful wound that took far too long to heal.

Initially the situation was great. They had knocked off a few armored cars, swiped some jewelry. He only told them his name was Yankee Knuckles so as Dreadnoks do they cut off the Yankee. Mickey would further more be known as Knuckles a title he would live up to. There was a tension between Knuckles and Road Pig that was obvious. They would spar and often much worse. These little tiffs landed Knuckles in the ER on many occasions. The jobs stayed constant, escorting, robbery and kidnapping, but no one was ever seriously hurt or killed. This changed one night as they rolled up to a donut shop outside of Jacksonville Florida after a botched robbery. A police cruiser had taken up shop for the night and while one was napping the other kept vigil over their fresh dozen of chocolate glazed. The Dreadnoks known for their hatred of police decided to take out their anger of the recent failure on these two jerkwater cops. Knuckles watched in horror as they tortured the two fat and balding men. The one known as Torch had lit their rickety old cruiser ablaze as the other laughed in delight.

Something that had long ago snapped out place in his mind violently flew back into its proper home. His sense of “Honor” and decency restored. He took to the Dreadnoks like a man on fire. He had dispatched three of the five bikers and threw the other so hard against a milk truck it sprung the valve on its side extinguishing the flaming cruiser. . It was down to Road Pig and Knuckles and usually when a Nok recruit get like this Road Pig disposes of them. Mickey rose to the occasion squaring off with the beast in perfect form. The flurry of jabs and punched that followed would have been amazing to witness if everyone around them would have been conscious. Even though the magnificent moves did little to deter the beast they did stall for time and with the sun piercing the horizon, sirens were heard in the distance. Road Pig was forced to leave the boxer go in favor for retrieving his friends. After the epic scene Knuckles wandered the Florida country side. He wasn’t sure what he could do. Being the Dreadnok enemy number one was a short lived position that he knew. Around the camp fire stories were exchanged about the three masters of disguise that were seated at the top of the Dreadnok hierarchy. Zartan, his brother Zandar and sister Zarana would be on his tail very soon.

He knew that local law enforcement wouldn’t be able to grasp the seriousness of this situation in fact he didn’t know if anyone could. He went and bought himself some decent cloths and a plane ticket north. If nothing else he would try to alter his appearance and put some distance between he and these Dreadnoks. On the plane Mickey had some time to think. In a flash of insight he came up with a great Idea one that he hoped could save him from a silent death in some back alley. As he exited the Airport n New York he hailed a cab. When the driver asked where he was heading he said the Local recruiting office. The recruiting officers were less than skeptical on why a man with a criminal past and one who seemingly fell of the face of the earth for six months would come back and want to serve his country. Luckily they were hard pressed for recruits and he was hard up for a safe haven. He went through boot camp until the hand to hand combat phase where he was singled out in an instant. It seemed luck was once again on his side as the guest Drill Sgt. was none other than Sgt. Slaughter.

Slaughter took Private Owens out for dinner to discuss where he obtained such honed fighting skills. Feeling the Large Sarge would be able to grasp his predicament Mickey spelled out his story, clinching it by showing his braded arm. Given Sgt. Slaughters past he was able to help the troubled young man to find a safe haven in a program he helped create. Now run by the viper turned soldier “Mercer” the Renegades seemed like the ideal place for someone in the predicament that Mickey was in. All that is left is for Mickey to pass the test that Mercer himself shall administer. He now lives up to his retort he is Honor and is more than willing to pass any test he s given.

Upon completion he will serve as the muscle for the Renegades. Mickey is proficient in two forms of martial arts, trained in boot on most American communications equipment and a certified marksman on the rifle range. Much more important than that is his integral knowledge of how Zartan’s Dreadnok think and operate.