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.

Monday, October 01, 2007

Trouble at the Diner


So I was driving up through the Pacific Northwest in a Greyhound bus, hoping to make it to Canada and then maybe do some sight-seeing- as a child, the great Mills used to tell me stories about the wonderful sites of Canada and its serene beauty- this included the vast wilderness of the Yukon, the Canadian capitol building that Mills was ejected from due to open and obvious intoxication, the wonderful Canadian horse tracks and betting parlors, the multi-cultural strip clubs of Montreal , and the fine art galleries that were filled with beautiful works the Germans had taken during the Second World War. I couldn't wait.


I got off the bus to grab a cup of coffee at a diner in Hope, Washington. There were a couple scruffy looking fellows outside- locals - so I brought in my panzer schreck just in case things got violent. The cashier looked at me strangely when I came in, and said, "I'm sorry sir- but you can't bring that panzer schreck in here."

I spit on her and kept walking.


Once inside, a little boy started staring at me, and mimicing the way I was drinking my coffee. I gave him the look of death, but he continued, unabated. I throat-slahed him with my middle finger.


Then some men starting pointing at me- apparently they identified me as one of the mercenaries who led the raid on New Baumstark. They flagged down a waitress and sent her over to me.


The waitress approached me. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." I said. I figured I would beat her to the punchline, and maybe confuse her a bit. She was not amused.


"Sir, those men over there said you invaded America- I'm sorry but we don't serve your kind of people in this diner. You gotta leave." she said.




She was big and fat, and I was a little scared.




"Look ma'am, I'm just sitting here, drinking my coffee." I said.




"Sir don't make me get rough." said the waitress.




"Oh you want rough? How about I put a panzer schreck round in between your eyes?!" I asked.




At that point she screamed at me and told me to calm down.





"Look, I'm just sitting here, drinking my coffee- I'm perfectly calm." I responded.




"Calm- waving that god damn panzer faust around!?" screamed the waitress.



"Calmer than you are." I said . (I didn't address the fact that the waitress had confused a panzer schreck for a panzer faust.)


"Look sir- you're going to have to-" she started. I was going to interrupt about the Supreme Court roundly rejecting prior restraint, but at that moment our pleasant little debate was interrupted when a half-dozen ATF agents burst into the diner, their Tec-9's trained on me. One of them, who bore a striking resemblance to oft-injured catcher Mike Piazza, said : "Drop the panzer schreck McStallen- you're coming with us."



So here I was just trying to get a god damn cup of coffee, and now the United States federal government comes barging into a PRIVATE establishment and arrests me for NO reason. This was really just a big slap in the face to all the hard work I did in New Baumstark. As they cuffed me and threw me in the back of a Humvee, I prepared myself for the worst, because I knew due process didn't apply when it came to dealing with these savages.