28 August 2006

God bless Texas

One of our long-term critters, part-time dope dealer, occasional thug and full-time poster child for retroactive abortions, has now become an object lesson. Apparently, Mister Critter developed a decidedly one-sided romantic fixation upon the teacher of one of his legion of offspring. The object of his affections, not appreciating what a singular honour becoming Mr. Critter's Baby Mama #134 would be, nor desiring such, turned him down.
Mr. Critter seems to have missed the subtle hint contained in the phrase Stay the hell away from me!, because early on the morning in question Mr. Critter decided to pay a visit to the home of said Object Of His Affections.
Finding no one home after repeatedly hammering on the door and screaming, Mr. Critter departed the premises, only to return shortly.
As he began to resume his obnoxious activities, the neighbor of the schoolteacher, a middle-aged gentleman whose wife occasionally babysits the infant daughter of the schoolteacher, walked next door to inform Critter that the schoolteacher was out of town on vacation and to kindly desist from raising Cain on her front porch.
Mr. Critter promptly whipped a large silver-coloured revolver from his waistband, struck the man across the face with the barrel, knocking the neighbor down to one knee. Critter then proceeded to advance on the neighbor, pointing the gun at him and loudly screaming: You want a piece of me, motherfucker?! Huh?! You want a piece of me?! I'll fuck you up, you ho-ass motherfucker! You want a piece of me?!
Down on one knee and unable to retreat, the CCW-equipped neighbor skinned his Glock 23 and neatly whomped two .40-caliber slugs through Mr. Critter's brisket. (The detective taking the statement said guess that'd be a 'Yes'...)
Mr. Critter had the good manners to drop the unloaded Daisy BB pistol, with which he had armed himself, and expire.
The officers handed the neighbor a receipt for his Glock and told him to come down to the station and pick it up when the Grand Jury was done.
I love Texas.
Ladies and gentlemen, while the First Rule of Gunfights is to have a gun, there are two corollaries to that rule:
1) It should be loaded and 2) BB guns don't count
From the LawDog Files blog
I, too, love Texas, and many Texans. Glad to see there's one with the presence of mind, the right equipment, and the cojones to handle the situation...
There were a few comments to the original posting deriding the Glock 23 in .40 caliber. If I ever have to shoot another person, they will likely 'expire', as did that clown in Texas, from an excess of forty-caliber drain holes in them, said holes produced in rapid succession by any of several Glock products. (Okay, okay, of course I'd rather have them in forty-five, but for the moment forty will have to do.)

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