No live animals were injured in the typing of this story. As responding to anonymous emails wasn't working out so well, I'm spending more and more time figuring out ways to antagonize my critics. I've tried to include little things to draw the ire of as many as possible.
Something lighter to transition into the new year. Enjoy.
Waylon Jennings: "Makin' their way, the only way they know how. That's just a little bit more than the law will allow."
= = = =
Sometimes the gods are looking out for you. I'd taken my semi-automatic Browning pistol out to the garage to finish cleaning it. Yeah, I know there are a bazillion better pistols but I'd had this one since I was a kid. Dad wasn't hung up about teaching me how to shoot at an early age. Some of the critters outside of the ranch weren't all that friendly and a boy has to be able to protect himself.
Now unlike Bobby Ray, who won a Darwin award for cleaning his with the magazine still in it, I pulled the magazine out before I started.
My name's Ringo. I was named after a drummer in an early sixties' boy band. Can't say I've ever heard anything they recorded. My wife is Naomi and we live in a rural part of West Texas. We don't have a whole lot except for that crystal collection in our front room.
Every year, since Naomi was a child, her grandmother had given her Swarovski crystal animals. 'Twas a mighty fine collection she had on display in the curio cabinet. I swear she makes new friends just so she can bring them over and show off her collection.
Normally Naomi and I get home around the same time on Fridays but today she'd texted that she'd be a few minutes late. Maybe she was running low on chew. She always has a pinch between her cheek and gums. I think my cock has tobacco stains.
It puzzled me when her garage door didn't open. Truth be told, it didn't really sound like her F150. The voice I heard with her was that of a man. That got my curiosity up. Naomi hadn't mentioned anything about a colleague joining us for Tex-Mex. Normally we go watch the local high school football team play on Fridays.
I finished cleaning my gun, left it on the workbench, and grabbed a towel to wipe my hands. Naomi seemed off kilter when her eyes met mine as I entered the front room. This stranger sat with Naomi on the loveseat.
"Um, Ringo, this is Jethro. We work together. He's the regional representative in town from Little Rock."
As my hands weren't clean, I simply nodded at him. His arrogant demeanor made me dislike him immediately. Naomi explained how she was going to entertain Jethro this weekend and the best solution was for me to go stay with my parents until Monday.
"Hold on. I've got to get some solvent for my hands. I'll be right back and you can try to explain this in terms I might understand. So far nothing you've said should have come out of my loving wife's mouth."
Jethro actually put his hand on Naomi's shoulder and gave her a little squeeze.
A splash of solvent and my hands were clean enough. What I really wanted was my pistol. A pang of guilt hit me when I decided what the wake-up call would be.
Reentering the front room, I pointed and shot the lovebirds. No, not them, the one in the curio. Since it'd been a while since I'd practiced at the gun range, I wasn't sure how accurate I'd be. 'Still got it' I thought. Two birds with one shot. It could have been Naomi's shriek that broke the glass on the curio. Oh alright, blame it on me. Kind of smelled like Jethro had shit himself.
Dickhead started to stand but I wiggled the gun his way and he sat right back down in the soiled spot on the sofa. No doubt about it now. Naomi had her hands covering her mouth and had dropped to her knees on the carpet, begging me to stop.
"Now unless you two have no more use for your hands, I wouldn't reach for your cell phones" I warned the pair.
Dumbo the elephant fell next but I didn't harm the tusks. Didn't know for sure if they were ivory and I might get in trouble if I damaged them.
I'm not sure which was louder now, the gunshots or the screams coming from Naomi.
"Oh no Toto. Ready to head back to Kansas my little pretty?" as I started my own color commentary.
Naomi shouted "DON'T YOU DARE" but Toto was gone faster than a F5 tornado.
"Does that giraffe have a name hun? I'll call him Geoffrey. Gone R U big fella." Boom.
"Where's that cowardly lion trying to hide? There he is Naomi, under the pile of glass bits. He's about to follow the yellow brick road." Boom. "That silenced his roar!"
"Please stop Ringo. I'm sorry" sobbed Naomi but it went in one ear and out the other, without meeting much resistance.
"Hey Baloo! Ready to 'Forget your worries and your strife'?" Boom.
"Hooo Hooo Mr. Owl. Meet my little friend." Boom. I didn't give a hoot when he crash-landed.
"Can you hear the guns, Fernando? Wait, his name is Ferdinand. Wrong lyrics anyway." Boom.
The thing I love about this Browning is the high-capacity magazine. My magazine wasn't full to start with, and I didn't want to run dry, so after taking out the bull I sat down in my recliner.
I chuckled like a madman and then "Hey Jethro, did you catch that? I took out the bull. Kind of appropriate, don't you agree? Now, what was that you were saying Naomi? Something about you and this pile of shit want me to leave for the weekend so as not to bother you? Did I get that correct?"
Geez she was sobbing so hard she couldn't even form a sentence. I looked at the curio cabinet and saw that damn swan. I hate that thing. It ain't a duckling but it's ugly.
Looking over at Jethro it was evident he'd pissed himself too.