Guns and Drugs

Predator Press

[LOBO]

As a good rule of thumb, if I'm not writing frequently I'm either:

a) sick as a dog
b) sick as a dog, or
c) sick as a dog.

Sure there's always the occasional rare exceptions -such as my amazing pro football career, the grueling astronaut training or the occasional zombie uprising- but in this case, it was mostly "B" with a little dash of "C".

So I spent most of the time staring slackjawed at the pretty colors changing on television. And completely at LadyTerri's mercy, I got a crash course in about 30 years of horror movies.

Gems like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Silence of the Lambs, and The Ring worked my addled psyche. Even my muddled dreams were terrifying: one in particular -about some crazy planet where people talked funny and hats were mandatory- had me so upset even LadyTerri's gradually increasing talent for dosing me with sedatives via dart gun failed.

But we cannot fault LadyTerri's mournfully terrible aim in this particular case entirely; my fevered horror was magnified exponentially by superhuman quantities of erythromycin, Alka-Seltzer, Nyquil, Contac, and the blood of a homeless wretch I felt helplessly impelled to bite repeatedly ... and were all followed by a nice fat codeine chaser.

I stole the car, locked the doors, and made for my escape laughing in triumph while slamming through the garage door at six miles per hour.

"Left!" I cried. "Left! We are almost free. Left damn you!"

Alas, my victory was to be short-lived: while my neighbor's vast and well-manicured LAWN OF FREEDOM lie merely inches ahead, I was halted abruptly and soundly by a cleverly-placed insurmountable six-inch curb.

The car's alarm went off.

And there was blackness.


***

The cop banged on the window with his flashlight.

"Sir," he said. "Please step out of the car."

"No!" I says, cracking the window slightly. I motion him closer to the door and put my lips to the gap whispering, "There's crazy people out there!"

"Sir," says the cop with vague disinterest. "If you don't come out, I'm going to have to break the window."

It was then I spotted his gun.

"WOW!" I says. "That's cool. Can I have one of those?"

"Well, probably yes thanks to the Republicans."

"What do I have to do?"

"Well first you have to get a FOID card."

"Do you have an extra one?"

"No. You have to apply for one."

"How long does that take?"

"About three days," he says. "Now-"

"And then I can shoot people?"

"No sir," he says.

"Well how long do I have to wait to do that?"

"Sir," he says exasperated. Winding back with the large flashlight, he prepares to break the window. "Please just open the door."

"Officer!" interrupts LadyTerri. "I have an extra key."

"Honey," I says. "I know it's hard to believe this right now, but I'm doing this for our own good. In fact, I'm doin' this for America. I'm doing this for Liberty. I'm doing this for Freedom!"

I punch the gas on the car.

"Ma'am," says the cop. "I don't think he realizes the car isn't running."

Thinking quickly, LadyTerri pretends she's jogging next to the car. Driving furiously, I suddenly notice her pulling up beside me.

"Jesus you run fast!" I smile. "By any chance, can you steer left?"

"Baby," she says. "Don't leave me without giving me a goodbye kiss!"

I roll down the window, pucker up and lean over.

... The dart caught me right in the neck.


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