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It had been many years since he had been on his old block. His family had tosed him out at 18 leaving him few options one of which was the marines. He spent four years in the desert learning the finer points of gunfighting and survival. A fewmonths shy o seing home he made a few piss poor decisions, one of which was getting blackout drunk and the second was stealing a Humvee and taking it for a joyride, the third poor choice was driving it into enemy hands alon with its store of guns and ammo. The following six years were spent in a military prison where he got the nickname Perfesser because of his dubious reading and studying and his lack of common sense or tact. With a decade behind him he was on his block again.
As he stepped off the bus and into the rain he smiled at the site of the apartment complex that served as a setting for so many memories. After climbing the dark stairway he knocks rapidly on the door of his childhood friend. Oddly his friend didn't answer, instead his kid sister opened the door cautiously, her face bruised and her nose recently broken. A long talk ensued in which he got his first taste of the C.S.A. Apparently some C.S.A. goons had been looking for her bother and decided to beat the shit out of her on top of that her brother was found a couple days later beaten to death in an alley, wrists still bruised from handcuffs. The talk continued nearly into dawn , kid sister's descriptions gave him enough to lead him to the men responcible an as the sun started to rise he stepped out into the day knowing that he was the only one that would make this right.

Perfesser managed to track the three brutes who killed his friend to a shithole of a bar that some of the lower fake cops enjoyed sharing stories over a few beers and confiscated dope. He was dressed for the occassion, leather jacket to cover his tattoos, gloves to cover the brass knuckles he wore, and his old model obeya pistol visible in his wasteline. He took a seat at the bar and identified the trio immedietly. After orderig the tro a round he began to shae stories with them and vice versa until they were talking and drinking all night. He thought to himself that they showed no sign of remorse whatsoever. By closing time he stumbled with the men into the street and stumbled along until reaching a suitable alley.
The first man went down fast with a sudden shot to the head. The other two were forced to cuff themselves to each other by the wrist before being beaten to death with one of thier own homemade billyclubs. The next day the three bodies were found with their badges crammed halway down thier throats. That was the start of it, Perfesser had declared war on the gang bangers with badges. If he could make money killing them then even better.
He often may rant about an old San Paro when gangs fought with pipes, knives, and the like. Or even about missing the old police. If you meet him you will find him aggreeable when you are being shot at and very disagreeable everywhere else. He is a difficult man to get along with but a valuable bit of muscle on the streets. His other talents lay in body work and his skills asa mechanic. Few environments mak him content it is best if you meet him in one of those few though.