Wednesday, October 03, 2007

An Army of One

I think it was either John Steinbeck or Maya Angelou who once said, "To survive a war, you have to become a war." Well, that's what I had to become. A war. A god damned war.


The bloody ATF agents bumped me around in their paddywagon for a while and then stopped by some federal installation and threw me into a holding cell. I collapsed like the 2007 Mets and fell to the ground. I started wining like a little baby, and then one of the interrogators came in- he looked liked like a young version of David Caruso.



"I loved you in Blue." I said.



"Fuck your mother!" yelled the Caruso lookalike, as he slapped me across the face.



Then he threw me up against a wall and strapped me into some sort of electric chair. "I hope you like pain, McStallen. Because you are going to be in a world of pain, McStallen, a world of pain." he said laughing gleefully as he walked out.



Well I was in a bit of a tight spot- trapped in a remote, heavily guarded federal compound in America's Pacific Northwest- strapped into some torture chair, waiting for some flunkee interrogator to return- but I hung in there- because that's what you have to do when you find yourself caught in the middle of a vicious cockfight.



Sometime later a young man came down with some food for me. He was visibly retarded, so I started laughing at him. He didn't get the joke. It was only moderate retardation, but it was still pretty damn funny.



"Here's your food, McStallen." he said.



This was my lucky break- the government, showing a sign of weakness, had foolishly employed a stupid retard and charged him with the simple task of bringing food to inmates.



The retard was ripe to be taken advantage of, as are all retards. And blind people too- I'm not sure if they count as retards- but you can take advantage of them, just the same. Hide stuff from them- rearrange the room- leave buckets of paint on the tops of doors and that way when they open the door the paint comes down on them- that sort of thing. Real funny. But anyway, like I was saying, this was my lucky break...



"What- am I on your pay no mind list, kid?" I asked the retard.



"Huh?" responded the retard.



"Where's my machine gun?" I asked the retard.





"Oh you wanted a machine gun- I thought you said you were all right." responded the retard.



"I am all right you mumblin' studderin' prick- but you ain't all right- now get me the damn machine gun!" I commanded the retard.


I was going to ask the retard to get me a shot of my favorite drink- Cosmonaut Vodka- really the only Vodka I've been able to handle since that IRA bomb took out half my colon- but I didn't want to complicate things.


So the retard stepped out for a minute and came back with an M-60 machine gun and several belts of ammunition. He undid my shackles and handed me the machine gun.



Even with the M-60, I didn't have the firepower to take on the whole compound. I figured my best course of action was to duck out the back and then return some time later with superior fire power and have it out with the confounded government. So I opened the side door and began to leave.



"Where are you going?" asked the retard.



"Shopping." I said, as I walked out the door.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I can't beleive McStallen didn't shoot the retard. . .in the foot at least. . . maybe shattered some bones.

1:04 PM  
Anonymous McGelboim said...

McStallen,

You have insulted me once again. First, you reference the collapse of my beloved Mets, and then you mock my retard cousin, Bilo. Bilo has 200 teeth and a small head, but that's not his fault. He once had a demon that lived in his head so his Kazak brother (the crazy part of his family) opened his head and placed a dry fish inside to eat the demon, but the demon become angry and made Bilo a retard.

I will have my vengeance.

McGelboim

10:41 AM  
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