June 23, 2006
When not to answer your door with a gun.
Last Saturday I was sitting on the couch in my living room watching TV. From the corner of my eye I catch movement through the window. I see two Hispanic males wearing basketball jerseys and bandanas walking down my driveway from my back yard. What the hell! I watch as they get to the sidewalk, turn and then come up the walk to my front door.
Oh hell no! You do not come out of my back yard, and then have the nerve to walk up to my front door. Quickly I grabbed the first thing in reach, my blunderbuss. Okay, it’s a primitive firearm, but all they see is a giant barrel. Most of the time people can’t tell that it’s not loaded or that it even requires black powder in the pan, the hammer cocked, a flint and the frizzen to be closed in order for it to fire.
With the blunderbuss over my shoulder I answer the door, “Can I help you with something.” These two teens are eyeing the beast slung over my shoulder with a mixture of “Oh Crap” and “Dude, that’s cool!” looks on their faces. Kind of nervously, one of the teenagers says, “We are with the local church. We are having a picnic next Saturday for everyone in the neighborhood. We wanted to personally invite you and your family to come and join in the festivities. There will be food, drinks and games for everyone. Here’s a flyer. Do you think you’ll be able to come?”
I flip that blunderbuss off my shoulder and level at the kid’s head. “GET THE FARK OFF MY PROPERTY YOU BIBLE THUMPIN’ DOOR BELL PUSHER! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO SMEAR YOUR BRAIN ALL OVER YOUR BUDDY STANDING BEHIND YOU! YOU HAVE UNTIL THE COUNT OF THREE AND THEN I’LL FILL YOU SO FULL OF LEAD, YOU CAN USE YOUR DICK AS A PENCIL!*” These two kids jump off the porch and run like their arse is on fire and their hair was a catchin’. One of the boys was running so fast ran right out of his sneakers. The other tripped and fell since his droopy pants fell down around his ankles.
And then my brain kicked in and decided to not do any of the above thinking it would have ended up with me in jail. I politely explained that I was not going to be available to attend; I have a Raptors game that night! Give up football for Church… What kind of sacrilege is that?
*I loved that line in the Three Amigos. I try to use it when ever it can be applied properly.
Pussy
I would have done it.
Well, if I had a gun.
Posted by: Quality Weenie at June 23, 2006 12:42 PMShame it wasn't your contractor.
Posted by: Tink at June 23, 2006 06:02 PM