Well said, buffaloguy. This one’s for you (and for Matt, if he ever wants to use any of the content or ideas from it in his own work). Sorry about the hasty writing. Other things to do here today.
The Story of Bob and His Buffalo Bore Coup
Metro recalled the thoughts of his past few days: the end of his career and the government-haters who ended it. He planned the whole operation from start to finish and even planned his defense in detail. Thank goodness, taxpaying public servants passed the Goochie Act to put the uneducated right-wingers in their place. The fools never suspected that Metro’s Progressive Conservatives were upholding decent regulatory government principles for doing business.
But the right-wingers succeeded in their crime of becoming anti-government communities, independent and with their own little economies. They refused to buy from approved retail authorities who generate revenues that upstanding persons like Metro are entitled to.
Metro arrived at Bob’s rube ranch. The place gave him the creeps. Men like Bob had always intimidated him. He had taken much pleasure in gatekeeping at the agency to keep tall rednecks like Bob from getting in.
Black rifle? Check. Commando uniform? Check. Level VI body armor with armor plate? Check. Twenty 30-round magazines in the proper (and very stylish) handbag? Check. Armored mask? Check. Metro couldn’t lose.
There’s Bob, down by his chicken coop, acting like the anti-government scumbag that he is. Look at him—proud to be an unintelligent, impoverished hick. Metro found a three-foot-high boulder and assumed a proper tactical standing position behind it.
Metro opened fire. He couldn’t miss, sending so many bullets through the air for only 200 meters. Or...how far was that? Dang. Forgot the laser rangefinder. Oh, well, doesn’t matter, because he knew that his black rifle was the brand that always made sub-MOA groups at 500 meters. learned it from the Internet. Had to hit something.
Bob took cover behind a small boulder and assumed a prone position, resting his Ruger Blackhawk on the boulder. He cocked the hammer, aimed for many seconds, a thinly scribed line on the lower part of the front sight leveling in line with the rear sight, squeezed and let one go. The revolver emitted the usual explosion and kicked like a mule. Didn’t expect to see that dandy boy up there. The revolver was for the monstrous bear that had been visiting to stalk and pester the livestock.
Metro dropped backwards like an Army silhouette. Bob saw dandy boy’s feet, aimed patiently between them and let another go. Boom!
The deputy looked at the exit wound on the top of the weird stranger’s skull and said, “Bob, that’s one sorry pelt.” Bob said, “Yup.”
The deputy looked around for an entry wound. Seeing the pool of blood between below Metro’s torso and no obvious entry wound, he decided to let the lab technician find it.
“You know that with that new Goochie law and all, you’ll have to drop by to see us.”
“Yup.”
The lawyer for the partner of Mr. Metro S. Politan told the judge, “The Goochie Act....”
“I’m aware of it. Have it your way. The Court will present the lists.”
Mr. Politan:
1 Striker/Arachnid Ninja rifle
...
Horny Turbo Extreme LE Cartridges
...
...Italian suit
Bob:
One Ruger Blackhawk revolver, customized by John...
...
Stetson Hat
...
...Boots
...leather
...Buffalo Bore Cartridges
The judge decreed, “Mr. Metro, total $7,386. Bob, total $11,264, brand names also approved.
“Bob, not guilty...!”
Nicely turned story that I can relate to since most of my shooting is done with peepsights. I own nothing that is “Tactical Black”. I do own much that is brass,deer and elk hide,
I really enjoyed the story. Thank you.