EastOkHotRod
Member
Few of you remember me. I am he who once donned the CCW badge and worked tirelessly to asure the safty and morality of my comunity.
I was a natural for thejob. 348 pounds of sensual manly flesh. A master of camo and concealement. I wore a Ruger Super Redhawk on one hip, a S&W 500 on the other. A Colt Combat Commander and Colt Python on my ankle. CCW badges were on each holster.
But i gave up the life. Too many battles with MS13 and the iranians. I decided to live a simple life. A peacfull life. I began delivering newspapers in my old buick skylark. It was a peaceful life. Until that night in the summer of 2013.
I was taking a paper to my most remote subscriber. He lived out in the country...miles from the nearest house. When i left the gravel road and turned onto the dirt drive leading to the dilapidated ante-bellum house, i heard four loud pops benath me.
Spike strips. MS13 had found me and led me into an ambush.
What follows is the diary i kept during those tense days at that bloody battle ground.
DAY 1 noon
i am crowched behind the trunk of my trusty skylark. behind me are the bleeding bodies of those gang members that thought they could flank my position. in the house above me the fiends continue a staccatto fire of tracers and other projectiles. they have hit my gas tank many times. the fools do not know that i long ago converted my skylark to run on coal. Let them waste their ammo.
DAY 2 3.A.M
I am lower on ammunition than i care to be in these situations. i have already spent well over a hundred rounds. peering into my trunk with my night vision, i take stock of my supllies. 800 rounds for the Redhawk. 427 for the s&W 500. A case and a half for the .45. 300 rounds for the Python. i hope and pray this is a short battle.
other provisions are not suitable. in my trunk there are eight two-liter bottles of mountatin dew, 37 cans of Wolf Brand Chili, six boxes of crackers, and some fiber bars. I realize i could starve in a week.
Day 3 8.a.m
They rushed me last night. The mexican street gang attempted a double flanking maneuver, hollering their blood curdling death cry "Arriba Ariiba Alla Alal Akbar"
but i thinned their ranks pretty good. At least forty lay sizzling in the hot Oklahoma sun. The smell is pungent, but somewhat exillerating
Day 4 noon
Luckily i keep some reading material in my trunk. As the enemy is likcking wounds today, i took time to read some Herman Hesse..."Our mind is capable of passing beyond the dividing line we have drawn for it. Beyond the pairs of opposites of which the world consists, other, new insights begin. SURE MAKES YA THINK
I expect my enemies to quit the field tomorrow. This is good, as my ammo is dwindling.
Day 5 six a.m.
I was wrong. wrong wrong wrong.
Last night two Trailways buses pulled up. At least two companies of MS13 disembarked. All carrying automatic weapons. I fear this may be the end for the Shrubbery Devil. They are maneuvering closer. I shall polish my CCW badges and prepare to meet the maker of all things.
Day 6
I could walk a hundred yards and never set foot on dirt...only on the bodies of the slain. It came to hand to hand yesterday. i am down to one bottle of mountain dew and two cans of chili. I dread having to eat the fiber bars.
ALSO...I HAVE BUT ONE BULLET REMAINING. There is only one choice. A difficult and dreadful one
Day 7 six a.m.
There was only one choice, and i did it. I got my handloaders out of the trunk and started making more cartridges. i have amassed about 1500 rounds. But the food situation is intolerable. It is time to take the offensive.
Day 8
I am back at home now. Amazingly the coal-powered engine on my skylark still fired up. But my flat tires would not gain traction over the dead bodies.
Fortunatly the damaged engine created an enormous black smoke screen, giving me the advantage. i put on my heat-sensing goggles and took the offensive. Usining only my S&W 500 with a silincer (i improvised one using gravel and empty cans of Wolf Brand CHili) i wiped out the remainder of the enemy.
ALL BUT THREE OF THEM. . . Jorge, Gonzalo, and Jesus. Since i will no longer be delivering papers, i'm starting a landscaping business. They will be a great asset.
I hated the loss of my Buick Skylark Station Wagon. But now I have new wheels...i took one of the Trailways buses as a trophy. Look for me in a town near you. It will be emblazoned with the CCW Badge symbol...gold of course...and equiped with lights and sirens.
I may soon pull into YOUR town as i wage my endless battle against crime and immorality.
Yes, the CCW badge holder is back on the streets.
I was a natural for thejob. 348 pounds of sensual manly flesh. A master of camo and concealement. I wore a Ruger Super Redhawk on one hip, a S&W 500 on the other. A Colt Combat Commander and Colt Python on my ankle. CCW badges were on each holster.
But i gave up the life. Too many battles with MS13 and the iranians. I decided to live a simple life. A peacfull life. I began delivering newspapers in my old buick skylark. It was a peaceful life. Until that night in the summer of 2013.
I was taking a paper to my most remote subscriber. He lived out in the country...miles from the nearest house. When i left the gravel road and turned onto the dirt drive leading to the dilapidated ante-bellum house, i heard four loud pops benath me.
Spike strips. MS13 had found me and led me into an ambush.
What follows is the diary i kept during those tense days at that bloody battle ground.
DAY 1 noon
i am crowched behind the trunk of my trusty skylark. behind me are the bleeding bodies of those gang members that thought they could flank my position. in the house above me the fiends continue a staccatto fire of tracers and other projectiles. they have hit my gas tank many times. the fools do not know that i long ago converted my skylark to run on coal. Let them waste their ammo.
DAY 2 3.A.M
I am lower on ammunition than i care to be in these situations. i have already spent well over a hundred rounds. peering into my trunk with my night vision, i take stock of my supllies. 800 rounds for the Redhawk. 427 for the s&W 500. A case and a half for the .45. 300 rounds for the Python. i hope and pray this is a short battle.
other provisions are not suitable. in my trunk there are eight two-liter bottles of mountatin dew, 37 cans of Wolf Brand Chili, six boxes of crackers, and some fiber bars. I realize i could starve in a week.
Day 3 8.a.m
They rushed me last night. The mexican street gang attempted a double flanking maneuver, hollering their blood curdling death cry "Arriba Ariiba Alla Alal Akbar"
but i thinned their ranks pretty good. At least forty lay sizzling in the hot Oklahoma sun. The smell is pungent, but somewhat exillerating
Day 4 noon
Luckily i keep some reading material in my trunk. As the enemy is likcking wounds today, i took time to read some Herman Hesse..."Our mind is capable of passing beyond the dividing line we have drawn for it. Beyond the pairs of opposites of which the world consists, other, new insights begin. SURE MAKES YA THINK
I expect my enemies to quit the field tomorrow. This is good, as my ammo is dwindling.
Day 5 six a.m.
I was wrong. wrong wrong wrong.
Last night two Trailways buses pulled up. At least two companies of MS13 disembarked. All carrying automatic weapons. I fear this may be the end for the Shrubbery Devil. They are maneuvering closer. I shall polish my CCW badges and prepare to meet the maker of all things.
Day 6
I could walk a hundred yards and never set foot on dirt...only on the bodies of the slain. It came to hand to hand yesterday. i am down to one bottle of mountain dew and two cans of chili. I dread having to eat the fiber bars.
ALSO...I HAVE BUT ONE BULLET REMAINING. There is only one choice. A difficult and dreadful one
Day 7 six a.m.
There was only one choice, and i did it. I got my handloaders out of the trunk and started making more cartridges. i have amassed about 1500 rounds. But the food situation is intolerable. It is time to take the offensive.
Day 8
I am back at home now. Amazingly the coal-powered engine on my skylark still fired up. But my flat tires would not gain traction over the dead bodies.
Fortunatly the damaged engine created an enormous black smoke screen, giving me the advantage. i put on my heat-sensing goggles and took the offensive. Usining only my S&W 500 with a silincer (i improvised one using gravel and empty cans of Wolf Brand CHili) i wiped out the remainder of the enemy.
ALL BUT THREE OF THEM. . . Jorge, Gonzalo, and Jesus. Since i will no longer be delivering papers, i'm starting a landscaping business. They will be a great asset.
I hated the loss of my Buick Skylark Station Wagon. But now I have new wheels...i took one of the Trailways buses as a trophy. Look for me in a town near you. It will be emblazoned with the CCW Badge symbol...gold of course...and equiped with lights and sirens.
I may soon pull into YOUR town as i wage my endless battle against crime and immorality.
Yes, the CCW badge holder is back on the streets.
