by:
RonDoids
Ron Ernie
In a quiet little town at an unknown deli
mart, Rags walked in for his daily pick pocketing agenda. He daily
visited this tired little gas station in Poughkeepsie, N.Y., to make a few
bucks stealing customer's (what few came in) wallets and splitting the cash
found in them with the
'CRACK' CASHIER NAMED CHRIS.
But on this particular day he chose a member
of the local law enforcement deparetment to hit on.
Here now the full story....
Detective Sargent Justin Case strolled into
the station looking to satisfy his nicotine fit, all crass looking, as if he
believed he was the biggest and baddest boy in town.
Justin Case was not bad, he wasn't even very
big. He is, by all respects a whimpering whining cop numbskull.
Word around has it that the worst five years
of his life were spent in kindergarten.
Today though, Justin Case was to meet his
match. Rags an 85 year old veteran of the Korean War, who makes daily
stops at the lonely, no business to speak of deli mart, will show Justin
Case who the boss is.
Detective Justin Case approaches the counter
and with a stern voice demands a pack of Marlboro Red Shorts
.
He gets no response from Crack Cashier
Chris.
Justin Case slams his 38 special down on the
counter. It goes off blowing a hole in the condom display.
The powerfully loud explosive gunshot caused
Chris's eyes to pop full open from his nap.
"Wha Wha What Was That?" Yells
Chris.
Detective Justin Case Replies,
"Shut your face dirt bag and gimme
a damned pack of Marlboro smokes ya hear; are ya deaf or somethin?" Chris
throws the cigarettes down on the counter like some sort of punk wild west
Dodge City Bar Keep. "Boy says Justin Case, you aint got balls
enough to do that again unless you like being pistol whipped with the
butt of a 38 dude!"
Being the thick head he is, Chris picks up
those Marlboros and crashes them back down onto the counter again instantly
realizing too late that he should have never done that. Detective Justin
Case Raises His 38 and begins lunging and swiping at Chris. Chris hollers
"No No No...please don't hurt me....PLEASE? I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
"Anything? Justin Case pleasingly
replies. Did you say you will do anything?"
"Oh OH No...CHRIS SAYS HORRIFIED,
Please not that again please do not make me
put that in my mouth. I cannot do it I still have a bad taste in my mouth
from the last time."
Justin Case's Retort is furiously
final.
Do It Or I Beat Your Head In
Dude!"
Chris resigns himself and tilts his head back
with the help of one of Justin Case's hands gripping a nap of Chris's
hair.
Then with his free hand Justin Case reaches
somewhere in his pants.
He pulls out a red hot FIREBALL and shoves in
in Chris's mouth.
"There ya go dirt bag, suck on that and
burn your little sissy tongue off!"
Chris chomps down the Ferarra Atomic
Fireball
in noticeable distasteful
fashion.
He swallows it down and remarks;
"Hey these ain't as big or as hot as
they used to be."
Detective Justin Case says
"Ya they ain't like the original Ferarra
Atomic Fireballs.
Probably made by some candy ass
company!"
Little known to both Chris and Detective Justin
Case, RAGS the 85 year old Korean War veteran and class act pick pocket, was
working his trade skills. As Chris and Detective Justin Case were
interacting their moronic drama,
RAGS was making hay while the sun shines.
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