The Hunt for Red November

Predator Press

[LOBO]

Doc Mike and I finish watching Duane "Dog" Chapman on Larry King Live, and come to separate conclusions.

Doc clicks off the widescreen. "You know what would have been funnier?"

"Funnier than this guy listening to an authentic recording of himself being a racist asshole, and blaming the National Enquirer?" I says. "Not really."

"Well, this guy is a bounty hunter, right? And bounty hunters are supposed to be tough. But this guy is crying on television? He shoulda rolled with it. Shaved his head. Got some swastika tattoos. Offered a half-price special apprehending black men while spitting foam all over the place."

"Yeah," I concede, cracking open another Blue Beaver Beer. "And then Oprah paratroops in -Mission Impossible style- rips off one of Larry's legs an beats the shit out of everyone with it."

"And how about that kid that sold the tape to a tabloid?" Doc continues. "I mean that family must be a total mess."

"I'll bet Thanksgiving dinner at that house is nothing short of spectacular. The kid walks in, 'Hi dad, I want you to meet my new girlfriend ...' Then the needle screeches accross the Perry Como record, and is followed by this big long awkward silence."

Doc muses for a moment. "Can't you just picture Dog carving the turkey with the gravy boat stickin out of his back?"

"That would certainly sell a lot of Tide and Shout commercials," I agree. "It's like a violent version of 'Dancin With the Stars', with 10% more white trash." I grab my laptop and boot up. "We should get Trew Life to narrate it. The ratings will be stellar."

"And right at the end," says Doc, creative juices flaring, "Al Sharpton comes in, pours the cranberries off of the hubcap they're using as a serving dish, and decapitates everyone with a single mighty throw."

"And carrying Duane's head by the mullet," I says drafting furiously, scrawling HTML like a machine gun, "he gets away by stealing the El Camino in the yard? I'm way ahead of you."