Posted By:
Booker (not just for Friday's anymore) (216.163.191.2)
Date: Friday December 17 [12:08:20 PM]
“Hang back a little more.”
Special Agent Adam Lee is talking to the driver of the black Ford Crowne Vic. Trailing the Yellow Taxi cab, they don’t want to be spotted and tip the occupants of the cab off. Lee is holding a walkie talkie which he speaks into every few minutes. They have been following the cab carrying ScoLar and JasonF for about 15 minutes. Shannon Langley, Director of the FBI New York office is on the other end of the walkie talkie.
Lee: “Yeh, we’ve got ‘em all right boss. Looks like they’re headed to the airport.”
Langley: “Which? LaGaurdia?”
Lee: “Nope. JFK. They’re making a run for the border all right.”
Langley: “Ok then. Stay on them, and DON’T get spotted. Check in every fifteen.”
Lee: “Got it.”
** ** **
Chebosto: “Man, we’ve got less than an hour to go. Where in the world are we going to find this stupid baby formula?”
MaximaLuva: “I don’t know! To tell you the truth, I’m half tempted to find a bar, grab a cold beer and say hell with that Andi. I never really liked that punk much anyway. What’s he ever done for me – got me buried in manure, I need that?”
Chebosto: “That’s not a half bad idea, why don’t we…..hey! Look at that.”
Chebosto is pointing at a brick building across the street with a sign on the front which reads “53rd Avenue Medical Center.
Chebosto: “Let’s go take a look.”
The two cross the street and stop in front of the building. They climb the steps and enter the lobby, a security guard carefully eyeing them from behind his desk. They approach the building registry and begin reading.
MaximaLuva: “Check it out.”
What MaximaLuva has noticed is the fourth name down from the top of the registry – Dr. Laurie Baker, Pediatrics – suite 320.
** ** **
Its been nearly two hours since they first walked into his house. And now, after another loooong 10 minutes of listening to Joe Washington go on and on with his childhood Coney Island stories, Gr8bone simply cannot stand it anymore. Washington is sitting in his easy chair, Gr8bone is across the room on the sofa, fists clenched behind his back, trying desperately not to lose his temper and go completely off on the old man. Craig B, meanwhile, has slipped out of the bathroom and has been going room to room in the back of the house, searching for the elusive record collection.
Finally, he walks into what appears to be an unused guest room. CraigB opens the closet door and there and, Viola, there on the floor is an extensive collection of old 12 inch vinyl records. He starts flipping through them. Count Basie,…Duke Ellington,…Lawerence Welk,…Cab Calloway…A HA!!! A perfect copy of “The Three Tenors in Barcelona” and one of Pavarotti’s most famous ballads. Craig B slips the precious record under his sweatshirt and slowly makes his way back out to the living room. His timing however is poor, as Gr8bone can no longer contain himself. CraigB returns to the room, just in time to see Gr8bone COMPLETELY lose control.
** ** **
He’s heavier than he seems. Although Froman is a skinny kid, probably around 150 pounds, dragging his dead-weight body away from Jerome Gordon’s door is a tough task. He’s dragged him about 50 feet and Russ2kMax is getting tired.
Russ2kMax hears Tosha Gordon screaming from inside the house again.
Tosha Gordon: “Let him have one for me, honey!”
The next thing he knows, the shirtless Jerome Gordon is coming out of the house, baseball bat in hand, and heading directly towards him. Russ has about three seconds to make a decision. Stay and try to take on this huge man with a bat, or drop Froman and get the hell out of there. Hmmm.
Russ2kMax (to the unconscious Froman): “You’re on your own, buddy!”
** ** **
Jake Reid: “Wot the hey-el, d yall think yore doin? Are you boyz crazy, er sumthin??”
Nismos87SE looks up: “Sir we need to borrow your license plate for a contest, our friends life is in great danger.”
Tommy Reid: “Well, the way I sees it, y’all’s life is in great danger. Do y’all know what we’re fixing to do to y’all?”
BryanH tries to reason with the Reids.
Bryan H: “Gentlemen, we are in dire need of your license plate, we will give you $50 for it.”
Nightrider, pokes Byran H in the ribs:
Nightrider: “C’mon man, we’re not supposed to buy the items, we can just make a run for it.”
Bryan H: “Screw it, I don’t feel like getting my ass chased all around Harlem, let’s just cut a deal, Booker will never know. Besides, he said no RETAIL establishments.”
Nismos87SE: “Yeh, man let’s just do it and get it over with. Does $50 sound good to you guys?”
Jake and Tommy look at each other with a puzzled daze. They both want to stomp on the guys, but $50 will buy a helluva lot of beer, and a new license plate to boot. Almost in unison, Jake and Tommy blurt out: “Y’all got yore selves a deal…”
BryanH, Nightrider and Nismos87SE can’t believe their ears. They actually negotiated a deal with these guys. Nightrider stuffs the Swiss Army knife back into his pocket, but unknown to him the screwdriver blade is sticking up out of his pocket. The three give each other high fives. And start counting bills.
Feeling relaxed, Nightrider leans onto the side of the truck and begins to admire Jessie. He puts his hand on the roof and starts walking from the front of the truck towards the back . The air is suddenly filled with a sickening SKKKRRRRRCCHHHHH!!!! As the exposed screwdriver digs a deep white gouge into the Candy-Apple red paint of Jessie, the once pristine pickup.
Nismos87SE and Bryan H: “Ohhhhh S$#%!@t!!!”
Jake and Tommy are on them like the white on rice. Nismos87SE, BryanH and Nightrider take off like greased lightning, running for their lives. Jake and Tommy Reid hop into Jessie and fire her up. BBBRRRAAAPPPppp!!! Jessie barks to life, glass packs roaring, sending flames shooting from her quad pipes. Jake Reid is driving, Tommy riding shotgun. They round a corner and spot our fleeing trio hotfooting it down the avenue.
Tommy: “Gimmie the shotgun, I’ma shoot them thar sumbithces.”
Jake: “No, ya dam fool, we caint shoot ‘em, that’ll put us in the clink, here hit ‘em with these.”
Jake points to an empty 12 pack of beer bottles that were to be returned, but they forget them behind the seat of Jessie.
Tommy: “ Yea, but, that’s $1.00 in returns we’ll be losing, we caint do that”
Jake: “Dammit, you dern fool, how many times I gotsa tell ya, 12 times 5 is 72. Dontcha know yer ‘rithmatic?!!”
Tommy grabs an empty bottle, leans halfway out the window, and hurls a bottle at the three, narrowly missing the feet of BryanH. The three are sprinting for all they’re worth - things are getting a little hairy now.
** ** **
WOOF, WOOF WOOF!!!! BARK!! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!! WOOF, WOOF! Grrrrrrrrrrr!!!!
Still crawling on his hands and knees, Wizeguy is now less than ten feet from the pit bull, and has not exactly “won him over”. The dog is straining forward on its leash, barking an growling at Wizeguy as if Wizeguy had a steak strapped around his neck. For his part, Wizeguy is convinced that his charms and “way with dogs” will yet win the pooch over.
Wizeguy: “Nice doggie. Niiiice fella. What’s your name, boy? Hmmmm? I’m Wizeguy.”
Standing in the background, EricL and JJW95SC are nervously watching the events. JJW95SC glances at his watch and whispers to EricL.
JJW95SC: “Less than fifteen minutes to go, and we’re at least a fifteen minute walk from that park that Booker is in. We’ll never make it. This clown’s never going to get close enough to that dog to get the collar off of it.”
EricL: “We’ve got to have faith in Wizeguy. He said he can do it.”
GRRRRRR!!!! WOOF!!!!
Wizeguy: “That’s a niiiice fella. You a Jets fan? I like the Seahawks, myself.”
** ** **
Having made it up the third floor, the two have entered suite 320 and found themselves in scavenger hunt heaven! The room is darn near full of mothers with babies and/or toddlers. At least ten of them. Several of them are feeding even now.
MaximaLuva: “Wow! Man, this is great! All we’ve got do is come up with a plan and we’re home free.”
Chebosto: “Yeh, and I’ve got an idea.”
MaximaLuva: “I’m all ears, dude.”
Chebosto looks around and spies a pleasant looking woman, seated next to a slightly opened window. The woman has a baby in her lap and an open baby bag on the seat next to her. Visible in the open bag is a full baby bottle.
Chebosto (nodding to the woman): “We’ll go over and sit next to her. You sit on this side (points to a chair) and I’ll sit on that side. Next to the bag. You strike up a conversation with her, and when she’s talking to you and not paying attention – I’ll reach in and get that bottle. Then, wrap it up and we’re outta here. Got it?”
MaximaLuva: “Yeh, but what do I talk to her about?”
Chebosto: “How should I know? Just make something up. Come on.”
The two make their move.
** ** **
Joe Washington: “So you see, here I was sitting on the beach at Coney Island, and this dead Whitefish floats up on the shore”
Gr8bone: “What the #*%$!! does this have to do with us wanting to buy a friggin record from you?!!!”
With this Washington turns from being a peaceful old man into the Devil incarnate himself. He points his finger at Gr8bone, just as Craig B re-enters the living room. He starts shouting at obscenities Gr8bone that would be at home in a mess hall full of sailors.
Washington: “Get the $%#! out of my house!!!!
Craig B decides to check out, with Gr8Bone closely behind.
Washington: “Move it, move your asses, double time!!!”
As they pass him en route to the door, Washington shoves Gr9bone in the back. This causes Gr8bone to bump into Craig B. CraigB accidentally drops the record from beneath his sweatshirt. Seeing this, Washington hits the ceiling!
Washington: “What the hell is this, you trying to steal from me?!?!?! I conjure the forces of VooDoo to destroy you!!!!
Hearing this, Gr8bone turns and faces Washington.
Gr8bone: “Yea, whatever old man.”
Gr8bone puts the palm of his hand right in front of Washington’s face.. Washington is outraged. He points his wrinkly finger at the front door. Just as Craig B reaches for the handle, it turns into a hideous fiery face and attempts to bit his arm off!!!
At this point, Craig B and Gr8bone realize that they are in deep doggie doo-doo. CraigB turns around and tries to reason with Washington.
CraigB: “Sir, we really didn’t mean any harm, it’s just that we need this record for a friend, his life is in terrible danger and…”
No time for a response. Washington extends both palms out towards the men , who are about 30 feet down the hallway. Two large fireballs come shooting out of his hands, heading right for the scared duo. They duck just in time. The fireballs blast through the door, cutting two large holes on the way. CraigB snatches up the Pavarotti record and leaps through the gaping hole head first, holding the record firmly against his chest.
Gr9bone follows, but not before Washington serves up another red hot fastball his way. The fireball hits Gr9bone just as he dives through the door and burns the butt of his jeans right off. He leaps through the hole, his butt cheeks flapping in the air, and lands squarely on CraigB. CraigB topples forward onto his chest and lands on the fragile record, shattering it into 30 pieces.
CraigB “DAMN! We busted the record”
Gr8bone: “Screw the record and screw that Andi! This guys some kind of Warlock or something, let’s just get our asses outta here!”
The two take off down the street, running for their lives, no record in sight.
** ** **
pant, pant, pant “I….I can’t run anymore.” huff, huff, puff “That’s it. I’m all out of gas” pant, pant “If he catches me, he catches me.”
Russ2kMax has been running at a flat out sprint for nearly four blocks, and he can’t keep going. He hasn’t so much as bothered to look back and see if Jerome Gordon is following him. He’s just stayed on the gas peddle. Well now his tank is empty. Russ2kMax stops, bends over and puts his hands on his knees and looks back over his shoulder – fully expecting the 6’4, 240 pound muscle man to be right behind him.
He looks…..nothing. Unknown to him, Gordon gave up the chase after a block. (He did, however, kick Froman in the ribs a few times for good measure).
Russ2kMax straightens up, looks around and begins to take inventory of his surroundings. He’s standing right outside of a large window with the words “Greir’s Old Towne Bar & Grill” written on it. Inside, the bar tender and one or two patrons are eyeballing him. Russ2kMax realizes that he must have looked pretty silly, sprinting to a stop like that. Oh well – let ‘em wonder.
Already feeling guilty about abandoning Froman like that, and, failing to help his Jambytes win the competition, Russ2kMax decides that a drink doesn’t sound half bad and enters the drinking establishment. He belly’s up to the bar and orders a Tom Collins on the rocks from the bar tender. The bar tender gets busy making the drink. Russ2kMax has to go.
Russ2kMax: “Say, ah – where’s your men’s room?”
The bar tender motions to a door in the side of the room: “Right through there.”
Russ2kMax: “Thanks.”
Russ2kMax hops off of his bar stool and ambles toward the door. He enters the men’s room, heads to one of two urinals, assumes the stance, unzips and begins his “download his floppy”. Right in front of Russ2kMax, just above eye-level, is one of those vending machines that you only see in seedy bars and night clubs. The machine has five coin deposit slots and is labeled: “The Adult Entertainment Center”. The third slot from the left reads, “Place 2 Quarters Here for One Magnum Sized Condom”.
** ** **
Clerk: “Yes gentlemen, here you go – two first class tickets to Fiji. And how would you like to pay for that?”
ScoLar: “Cash.”
ScoLar slips his hand into the suitcase and withdraws a wad of hundreds. He plunks them down on the counter and begins counting them off.
ScoLar: “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen,……thirty six. Thirty six hundred dollars. Okay?”
Clerk: “Ok. Do you have any luggage to check?”
JasonF: “Nope.”
Clerk gets a strange look on her face: “You don’t? You gentlemen realize that you’re flying to Fiji? That’s a nineteen hour flight.”
JasonF: “We know.”
Adam Lee had been hanging in the wings, observing carefully. Once he saw the transaction take place – ScoLar exchanging the cash for the boarding pass – he barks into his jacket collar.
Special Agent Lee: “OK – MOVE!! GO, GO, GO!!!”
Like roaches scrambling when a light goes on, four suited FBI agents swiftly descend on the United Airlines ticket counter and grab the unsuspecting duo. JasonF and ScoLar are caught completely off guard. The agents grab them, spin them around, and start frisking. One agents grabs the suitcase of cash.
Agent #1: “Ok, put your hands on the counter, spread you feet apart and shut up!”
ScoLar: “What?! What’s this all about?! Get your hands off me! Who are you guys?”
The approaching Lee: “I’m Adam Lee, Special Agent FBI. And YOU are under arrest.”
JasonF: “Arrest??? What for, there’s no law against booking a flight!”
Lee: “No, but how about money laundering?
JasonF: “WHAT?!”
Lee: “How about conspiracy to defraud the federal government? Aiding and abetting a known felon? Racketeering? Shall I go on?”
ScoLar: “Aiding a felon??? Money laundering? What are you talking about?”
Lee: “That’s not the question. The question is, are you two going to play ball, or not? We’ve had our eyes on your boys at First Mortgage for quite some time now you know?”
JasonF: “First Mortgage?? What the hell are you talking about, First Mortgage?”
Lee: “And would you like to explain that?” (holding up the suitcase)
JasonF: “That’s not ours!”
Lee: “No? Won it in a card game, or something, huh?”
ScoLar: “Well, actually – we found it in a scavenger hunt.”
Lee: “A scavenger hunt. Well that’s your story. Now are you sticking to it?”
JasonF: “But it’s the truth!”
Lee: “Ok, gentlemen. Have it your way.” (to the other agents) “Get ‘em out of my sight.”
The federal agents escort JasonF and ScoLar out of the airport, stuff them into waiting cars and speed off.
** ** **
Eben is having serious issues about this whole thing.
Eben: “Where the hell are we supposed to find a baby bottle in a Bus Station?”
Frans96SE: “Well think Eben, where would your people have a baby’s bottle in a bus station?”
Eben: “What the hell do you mean, “My people” Black people and white people use baby’s bottles the same way.”
Frans96SE: “Chill brah, I’m only trying to help out here. I just thought you knew the way all your people think, since you are intelligent and all.”
Eben: “Listen up here Frans, right now I’m about pissed off wit-cha, and if you keep saying that ‘my people’ crap, I’ll leave your scraggly behind right here and let you do this your damn self.”
Eben has a way with words, and if you’ve ever been told off by Eben, you know. He’s treating Frans96SE like some lady he was phone boning and she accidentally made the mistake of asking him for some of his hard earned money.
Inside the bus station, there’s some type of merchants sale. Tables are set up and there are vendors and customers everywhere. Looking around the vast bus station, Frans96SE spots a young woman, who can’t be much older than 25, carrying a baby in her arms
.
Frans96SE: “Look , that lady has to have a baby’s bottle, she can’t breast feed in public. Let’s check it out.”
Eben: “Yea, Whatever.”
Frans96SE and Eben are scoping the woman out. She is definitely by herself, and she’s having a hard time. She sits down on a bench, struggles with the baby, fidgets with her backpack, and out comes a baby’s bottle.
Frans96SE: “Eben, this is our chance. C’mon, I’ll grab it and we’ll be outta here.”
Eben: “Nope, don’t do it, I don’t think this is right.”
** ** **
Tommy Reid throws again, this time he hits his target. BryanH takes a shot squarely in the back of the head. He’s down. Lights out, out cold spread eagle on the sidewalk. Some loose change from his pocket rolls around into the street, little children scamper and pick it up.
NightRider (carrying the license plate): “BryanH is down, we’ve gotta go help him.”
Nismos87SE: “HELP HIM!! Who’s going to help us?!! Those two freaks are gaining!”
Indeed, the classic Chevy truck is now less than forty feet behind the two sprinting Jambytes, and closing fast. The howl of its four barrel carburetor is deafening. Nightrider realizes that they’ll never out run them, they need a plan.
Nightrider: “He’ll be ok. Lets split up, and head back to Booker, we’ve gotta get this license plate there in time. You go that way, I’ll go this way. They can’t follow both of us!”
Nismos87SE makes a hard 45 degree turn, splitting off from NightRider. He heads up an alley, while Nightrider continues down the avenue.
Jake: “Lookie, they split, which one do I follow? Which one has the plate?”
Neither of the two can remember, Jake Reid randomly chases Nismos87SE. He turns Jessie up the alley behind Nismos87SE and stands on the gas.
Nightrider is running so fast all he can hear is his own heartbeat. Thump, THUMP!! Thump, THUMP!! Striding like a marathoner who is about to break the tape with 5,000 other runners trying to catch him.
Nightrider (thinking to himself): “Only a few more blocks to go.”
A few minutes later, Nightrider sprints into the park and right up to Booker.
Nightrider: “Here you go, big man.”
He hands Booker the license plate. Members of the Jambytes immediately begin to cry foul.
JerryT: “HEY! A flag is made of cotton, or polyester or something. Not metal!”
Keven: “Why don’t you just shut up! He didn’t specify anything about what its made of, he just said find one!”
Booker considers the arguments: “JerryT is right. I said a confederate FLAG, not license plate. A license plate is NOT a flag. It doesn’t count.”
Nightrider: “Damn!” He thinks to himself: “I hope Nismos87SE is OK, those Rednecks looked mean!!”
Nismos87SE isn’t doing all that well. The alley that he ran into is a dead-end.
** ** **
MaximaLuva (sitting down next to woman): “Ooooo, what a cute baby.”
(this is about the ugliest baby anyone has ever seen)
Woman: “Thanks so much.”
Chebosto eases into position on the other side.
MaximaLuva: “How precious. Boy or girl?”
Woman: “A little girl.”
MaximaLuva: “That’s so special. I don’t have any children yet myself, but….”
As MaximaLuva launches into his fake spiel, the woman is already suspicious of the two. If he doesn’t have any children – what the heck is he doing up here? Watching out of the corner of her eye, she sees Chebosto lean a little bit closer to her bag. MaximaLuva is now fully into his line of B.S..
MaximaLuva: “…and I always thought that if I have a son, I won’t make him a junior. MaximaLuva, Junior – now what kind of a stupid sounding name would that be? My grandfather always said that he hated being a……”
Woman (thinking to herself): “What in the world is this idiot talking about???”
Chebosto has the bottle in his sights, he surveys the room to make sure that no one is watching him. No chance. All of the women in the room are far too busy keeping up with their own kids. He sloooowly snakes his hand into the woman’s bag. This is going to be too easy. MaximaLuva has her enthralled. She has no idea!
A little more, a little more. Got it! The bottle is in his grasp. He slowly begins withdrawing his hand. Farther, farther, farrrrther. He has his hand, with the bottle in it, completely out of the carrying bag and is just about to tuck the bottle into his jacket when
the woman SPINS around and faces Chebosto.
Woman: “WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!”
** ** **
“Man, what LUCK!” is all that Russ2kMax can think. “I’ve been hauling my butt all around Harlem, practically got my head bashed in. And here, ten minutes from the end of this thing, one of these condoms practically falls into my hand. HA! God really must love me.”
Russ2kMax digs into his pocket and comes up with two quarters. He places them into the vending machine, twists the knob, and sure enough one Trojan Magnum drops into the grab bin. He grasps the condom and tears out of the bathroom.
Back in the tavern, his Tom Collins is waiting for him.
Russ2kMax: “Sorry man, gotta go.”
He drops a five dollar bill on the bar.
Russ2kMax: “Keep the change.”
Russ2kMax bolts out of the bar. As fate would have it, he’s just around the corner from the park where the finish line is. Russ2kMax trots around the corner and sees Booker, Woodear, Kevin, SkyMax, EricM, Hantra, JimW, Tanman and several other members of the BBS. Russ2kMax waits for a hole in the traffic and then runs over to Booker. He slaps the condom into Booker’s hand.
Russ2kMax: “Here you go, you off-topic freakazoid.”
TheBooker takes a look at the condom and then picks up his clip board. He places a check mark on the Jambytes sheet next to “condom”, and then looks at his watch.
Booker: “Well, that breaks the tie. Its now Jambytes 3, MaximaMafia 2, with about thirteen minutes to go. This is going to be interesting.”
Russ2kMax accepts his round of high-fives from the rest of the Jambytes, and joins the wait.
** ** **
Jessie comes screeching to a halt 30 yards from Nismos87SE, and out come the Reids. They’re done talking, time to bust someone up.
Nismos87SEr: “Listen guys, I, I, I’m so so, sorry. I didn’t mean to scratch your truck…I mean it’s such a pretty tru---OOOOF!!!
NightRider gets a blast to the stomach, which sends him backwards into some garbage cans, turning them over with tons of noise.
Jake: “Boy, this’ll teach you not to mess with Jessie agin.”
Another blast, this one to the face.. NightRider isn’t looking too good, doesn’t sound too good either. He’s on the ground now, in serious trouble, but the racket has caught someone’s attention.
A door in the corner of the alley is partially open. Turns out that it’s the back entrance to Del’s Barber Shop. And today, the barber shop is packed. Dwayne Lawrence has heard the ruckus coming from the alley and has come out to investigate. He steps through the partially open door and spots the three men.
Lawrence: “What the hell is go’n on here?”
Jake Reid : “Mind yer bisness nigga, get yo ass back inside”
Lawerence: “Excuse me? You want to run that by me one more time?”
Tommy Reid: “He said, take you ebony ass – back inside the building.”
Lawrence: “Alright.”
With that, Nismos87SE’s thin hopes of redemption are dashed. Dwayne Lawrence retreats back into the doorway.
Jake Reid: “HA!! I guess we scared the wits outta him! You see him take off?!”
Tommy Reid: “That’ll teach his yeller butt to mess with us!”
They turn they’re attention back to Nismos87SE.
Jake: “Now as for you…”
Jake Reid has barely gotten the last word out of his mouth when Dwayne Lawerence reappears, this time joined by some friends.
Five HUGE brothers come out of the back door of the barber shop, and casually walk around and surround Jessie, Jake and Tommy.
Lawerence (to Nismos87SE): “Why don’t you go ahead and get out of here, we’ll handle this.”
Nismos87SE scrapes himself off the pavement, and heads back up the alley. All he hears is crunching metal and screaming…
** ** **
Wizeguy is now just a few feet from the pit bull and is still trying to calm the thoroughly agitated dog. Trying, unsuccessfully. The dog is absolutely livid. Its barking and growling at Wizeguy as if it wants to kill him. The leash is taunt and nearly choking the lunging dog. Salvia if flying off of its jowls as it barks at Wizeguy. EricL and JJW95SC are standing back about 20 feet, which doesn’t really matter as the dog is paying no attention to them anyway. Its attention is focused 100% on the Wizeguy.
Wizeguy: “Ok boy, now that we’re friends…I’m going to reach out and take that collar off of you, ok? Eeeeasy, easy does it. I’m not going to hurt you.”
WOOF!!! Grrrrrrrr!!! WOOF!! WOOF!! WOOF!!
Realizing that its do or die time, and that his relationship with the dog isn’t going to improve much, Wizeguy decides to make his move. He slowly reaches out to the dog, and makes a play for the collar.
Wizeguy: “Easy big fella. I just want that collar. Easy.”
As soon as his hand his close enough, *CHOMP!* the pit bull lunges forward and bites down on Wizeguy’s forearm. With a single bite, he snaps his jaws shut on Wizeguy’s arm just above the wrist. Wizeguy lets out a terrific scream:
Wizeguy: “OWWWWWW!!!”
In typical pit bull fashion, the dog is not mauling the arm, it simply clamps down and hangs on. Its canine teeth are touching one another on the other side of Wizeguy’s arm. EricL and JJW95SC rush to Wizeguy’s aid. JJW95SC hits the scene first and grabs the dog’s head. The pit bull is locked on like a vice. JJW95SC starts shaking the dog’s head to no avail. The muscular jaws and thick skull are impervious.
Wizeguy: “Get him off, get him off! My fingers are going numb!”
JJW95SC: “You’re the Doctor Doolittle, tell him to let go.”
Wizeguy: “Stop with the wise cracks and get him off of me!”
EricL, meanwhile, immediately got to work on the dog’s collar. While the pit bull and the other two are engaged in combat, he’s started unlatching the leather collar – and he’s almost got it.
Wizeguy is pulling one direction, the pit bull the other, and JJW95SC is in the middle trying to pry the dog’s jaws open with his bare hands. No use. The dog’s jaws are tighter than an iron winch. This is going to take brains, not brawn.
He’s got it! EricL has gotten he collar off the dog. He holds it up in triumphant jubilation.
EricL: “Look guys! I got it!! The collar! I got it!!”
Wizeguy: “Great. Now get the mutt off my arm!”
JJW95SC: “There’s nothing he can do. Take off man, get to Booker. You can just make it if you run. Just go.”
Realizing he’s right, EricL turns and dashes down the alley, griping the dog collar in his hand. He’s got to cover nearly twenty blocks in just over ten minutes – time to fly.
Wizeguy: “NOW what are we going to do?”
JJW95SC: “I’ve got an idea.”
JJW95SC walks over to a nearby dumpster and jumps in. He comes out a few moments later with a spent BigMac wrapper containing a partially eaten BigMac sandwich. He pulls the remaining meat out from in between the bun and returns. He wags the hamburger patty beneath the dogs nose.
JJW95SC: “Here you go, Butch. How about some nice gross-burger.”
Its working. The dog’s nostrils begin twitching and flaring. JJW95SC rubs the meat on the dog’s nose and lips. The pit bull surrenders its grip on Wizeguy’s arm. The moment he does, JJW95SC tosses the hamburger patty a few feet to the left and steps away with Wizeguy. Wizeguy wiggles all of his fingers to confirm they work. Fortunately, he’s wearing a sweatshirt underneath a denim jacket & the dog couldn’t break skin. No blood, no broken bones.
Wizeguy: “Why’d you do that?!”
JJW95SC: “To save your butt!”
Wizeguy: “What?! You think I couldn’t have handled that? You must be kidding me. Your jumping in is the best thing that ever happened to that mutt. One more minute and I would’a torn him to bits!”
** ** **
Signed by - theBooker, Creator/Author/Editor-in-cheif of the hit series, "As the BBS Turns". Position of Quality Assurance Manager has been filled and a strong candidate for Technical Editor has been identified (pending drug test & non-compete disclosures). Its your world, we're just living in it. This forumn was a lot more fun before we all starting taking it & ourselves so seriously. 96 Pebble Beige 5-spd SE, with modest yet effective modifications, daily. The internet is no place for an OSU, State Penn or Michigan fan. Badgers - bringing home the Roses, AGAIN!
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