You know, this morning I was cleaning one of my many
assault weapons and the damn thing just went off through the wall and
hit my neighbor in the leg. Fortunately, that's a common occurrence
here, so it's only a misdemeaner (littering ammo and shells) - he liked
the ride to the ER, anyway. Then I got on my bulletproof vest and
helmet and went out for a walk, and of course took along my Mattel(r)
M16A1 (cheap plastic piece of shit, and it jams too much, but it's
light, vaguely accurate, and the ammo's cheap) and mounted grenade
launcher in case I came across any birds that hadn't been shot yet, oh,
and the .44 magnum and the sawed-off Remington(r) shotgun under the
trenchcoat, of course. It was such a beautiful day, with the smell of
gunpowder in the air and the rattle of gunfire down the street, that I
got a quadruple supremo latte and gulped it down. Well, after that much
caffeine it was just a matter of time before that bastard neighbor's
annoying cat met an unhealthy end... Fluffy mighta fried up good and
nice, but of course we only eat McDonald(r)'s and Burger King(r) here.
Shame to waste that meat, I tell ya, since hunting *IS* the only valid
reason to have an assault rifle.
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