The entire staff of the new tri-county, anti-drug, community interdiction, special programs, environmental task force team, pilot project were pensive. All two of them.
Their “stakeout” wasn’t helping. After various home appliances and a cat had flown from the window of their intended target, they knew they were in over their heads. Janice, the locally popular, and by all accounts unstable, transvestite MMA fighter was throwing serial fits in his/her/its apartment. If they tried to bust the human trainwreck at this juncture (for any one of the thousands of illegal, grey market, probably dangerous, and definitely unholy concoctions he peddled) the best they could hope was the drywall they got kicked through would be thin.
But if they didn’t make a bust soon it was back to cleaning outhouses at the Parks Department!
The phone rang. Their buddy at the local police dispatch, who they plied with donuts to get the inside track, had a hot tip. There was a big bust going down! Tonight, during the MMA match, a gang of drug dealers was going to trade a new Audi for a suitcase full of heroin.
It was going to be fun! The campus cops were all signing up for overtime. The local police were going to use their cool drug interdiction van. The Sherriff was going to bring his SWAT truck. The local press might have a helicopter lined up. It was the party of the season. Be there or be square.
The fellows pondered for a minute. They didn’t have any cool tactical gear. You can’t go to a party without proper attire. With the creativity of people who really hate cleaning outhouses, they formed a plan. One of them grabbed the phone and called a pal at Fish and Wildlife who handled poachers.
“Hey Ed? You there?”
“Yep, what’s up fellas? I thought you were chasing drugs?”
“We are. There’s an awesome drug bust coming up and we don’t have any cool tactical gear. Seize anything big lately?” (It’s a perk of the enforcement of Game Laws that anything used in the commission of a game violation is seized by law enforcement. This is why trophy elk are generally shot from some of the nicest trucks in town, often with impressive high-end firearms. In one storied case, a nefarious criminal somehow used an antique collectable double barreled shotgun to kill an out of season trophy elk from the seat of a new jet ski. The shotgun auctioned for enough to outfit a new truck with a lift kit and 33” Super Swampers. Ed used the truck to trailer the jet ski to all the regional interagency team building exercises. Everyone loved Ed.)
“I dunno’ guys. Anything involving the University is probably total crap. It could turn into a circular firing squad.”
“Did we mention the criminals are racist? We could bring you along so you get in the newspaper article about it.”
“Racist? That’s different!” Who wouldn’t want to be in the newspaper article about nabbing a racist?
“Yep, literally Hitler! So, what do you have?”
“I can set you all up in every kind of camo you’d want. New boots and hats and vests and everything. Probably matching outfits. Maybe you can sew on nametags to make it look real professional.” (A local outdoor clothing store had inadvertently trafficked in a forbidden sailfish mount someone found at a garage sale. Ed had enough clothing to outfit an army and it would really look like an army too.) “And then there’s the thing from the bust last year.”
“What’s that?”
“Somebody was using an antique Gatling gun with a laser sight.”
That sounded weird. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Look, it killed a deer OK? And besides, the media people will say ‘machine gun’ and paste a Wikipedia photo of a truck mounted minigun or something. What do you say? It’s really fun to shoot.”
“OK. Let’s do it.”
If you think a Gatling gun with a laser sight is a logical tactical solution to raccoons in your garden, you might want to click below:
Dammit. The page is acting funky.
Oh no. WTF happened? Have squirrels gotten to my laptop?
If you lost a comment I apologize. Please try again.
“Gatling gun with a laser sight is a logical tactical solution to raccoons”
Logical? No.
Fun? Hell, yeah. 12v or 24?
Oh, wait. “Antique”. That means hand-cranked. Nevermind. Too much work.