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The LawDog Files

Discussion in 'General Gun Discussions' started by LawDog, Apr 17, 2006.

  1. LawDog

    LawDog Moderator Emeritus cum Laude

    Dec 20, 2002
    There was a young man who moved to our town named Frederick who managed to get all over my wrong side in a hurry.

    Near as I can tell, his mama gave him anything he wanted from the time he learned to point. In her eyes, he could do absolutely no wrong.

    He was, in plain language, spoiled bloody rotten. Top this with the fact that Frederick was 5 foot, 4 inches tall and the possessor of one well-fed Napoleon Complex, should enable anyone to forsee the trail of smacked-around girlfriends, lost brawls, unreturned rental movies, unpaid gasoline, burn-out marks, skipped bills, hot checks, harrassing phone calls, and a record number of Public Disturbance and Disorderly Conduct calls -- except, apparently, his mother. Who also moved to our fair town.

    I believe he holds the record for shooting to the top of the Sheriff's Smoke List.

    There I was...

    I was patrolling the west side of town one balmy Friday night, when about 3 in the A.M. I saw headlights up the street that looked ... wrong.

    I pulled up to the house and immediately discovered that the reason the headlights looked wrong, was that they were coming from a car high-centred on the bank of a koi pond occupying the front lawn of a corner residence.

    From the trail of brutally slaughtered garden gnomes, it appeared that the driver of the car had chosen a spot some twenty feet shy of the stop sign to make a right turn.

    I parked the cruiser at the curb, turned on the lightbar and picked my way through the gnomic massacre to the drivers side of the expensive European convertible sportscar.

    Since the window was rolled down, I could clearly see that the drivers seat was occupied by my favorite Frederick, who was making very careful movements of the steering wheel while peering blearily, albeit intently, through the windshield.

    I cleared my throat, "Ahem. Sheriff's Office."

    Freddie practically jumped out of the seat, whipped around and stared at me like a deer caught in headlights.

    I waggled my fingers at him.

    Freddie reached down and pushed the 'UP' button for the driver's side window, closing the convertible's window in my face (I guess), very carefully engaged the right hand turn signal, and gently turned the steering wheel to the right. The engine revved politely.

    I stepped back and looked at the koi pond. Yep, still high-centred.

    I will admit that I waited until Freddie had released a massive sigh of relief and shakily wiped his mouth before I tapped on the window glass.

    I'm evil that way sometimes.

    Young Freddie jumped damned near a foot out of the seat, clutched his fists to his chest and stared at me in a mixture of absolute confusion and just a bit of panic.

    I made cranking motions with my hand. Freddie continued to stare at me. Getting a little irritated, I reached over the top of the window, unlocked and opened the door. Freddie promptly scrambled into the passenger seat, curled up into a little ball and began a loud, rapid, and totally unconvincing snoring.

    I performed a Migraine Salute. Freddie peered at me through one eye, then began to snore even louder and faster. I moved the transmission into 'P', turned off the engine, dropped the keys into my pocket, walked around to the passenger side, and said politely, "Sheriff's Office, Freddie. Step out of the vehicle, please."

    To which Young Freddie yelped, "Can'tsh choo shee I'm as... asleep?! Fug, funk, **** off, joo dumb***!"

    I'm not exactly sure what the alcohol had been telling Freddie, but I don't think me getting a satisfying double handful of the front of his silk shirt and snatching him out the passenger seat of his car was part of the plan.

    I love convertibles.

    We wound up nose-to-nose, his toes a good six inches off the turf, and me smiling a very large, not-very-friendly-smile. "Are you awake now, Fred...Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what the hell have you been drinking?"

    "Scroo ... screwd ... screwdrivers, joo fug ... fickin', ****ing maroon, no, moron."

    "Okay, Freddie, let's go over to the nice cop car."

    "Whafer ... wotsifor ... why?"

    "Because I said so, Freddie."

    "Joo got gotta tell me wha's ... why Ah'm bein' adrested for."

    "Gnomicide and suspected DWI. You want to walk to my cruiser, or do I drag you?"

    "'M gonna home. Choo .. joo talk to by lagyer in ... de ... de morn, 'Ey! Leggo de eer! Ear! Choo gogda by eer!"

    We arrived at the cruiser, I retrieved Freddies wallet and called the S.O. to report my location and run a 27/28 and a 29. I noticed that while I was on the radio, Freddie was snivelling into one of those new-fangled cell phones. To his lawyer, I assumed.


    I got my business done on the radio, gently inquired if Freddie wanted to perform some Standardized Field Sobriety Exercises, relieved Freddie of the phone, repeated my inquiry about the SFSEs, to which Freddie replied loudly and profanely in the affirmative.

    He then proceeded to fail the SFSEs. Spectacularly.

    Which led to Freddie getting hooked up and put into the back of the cruiser. Because it was a balmy Texas night (and to give Freddie somewhere other than the floorboard to hork, when required) I compassionately left the back window down.

    I had just finished telling Dispatch to find a tow-truck driver with some experience at improvisation when I noticed a car hauling tail up the road towards my location. Said car screeched to a halt behind my cruiser with one tire perched comfortably on the curb, and the peroxide blonde driver exploded out and began to stomp to the cruiser. I jumped out, pointed at Freddie's mama and firmly said, "We've had this discussion before, Darla. Remember the words: 'Interfering with the Duty of an Officer'?"

    "Why are you arresting my baby?!"


    "Oh, baby! You're in handcuffs! Why is he in handcuffs!?"

    "That would be under the 'arresting' part, Darla. Driving While Intoxicated." I gestured towards the car, the koi pond and the lawn with its pitiful population of decapitated Little Folk.

    "He shaid ... said I kildt a ganomey. I din't meen too, but hesh wouldn't gegt ... get ... off my way! I'd hoknt de horn and evvrthing! Idt washn't my fault!" bawled Freddie.

    "Darla, he drove his car over that lawn. He reeks of booze and he failed every single one of his sobriety tests. He's drunk, he was driving, and he's going to jail just as soon as the wrecker gets here."

    "Bull****! My baby doesn't get drunk. Nobody can pass those ****ing sobriety tests! See?" Matching actions to words, Darla flung her head back, attempted to stab herself in the eye with a polycarbonate fingernail and tumbled against the side of my cruiser.

    I immediately began to help her up, when I noticed that Darla's eyes were...awfully bloodshot. And under the pungent whiff of Chanel ... was that ... booze? Darla smacked my helping paw away and stood, swaying ever so gently, with her hands on her hips.

    "See? My baby can't pass those tests because nobody can pass those ****ing tests!"

    "Yeah!" yelped Freddie.

    My smile was probably beatific.

    "Actually, Freddie did the tests over here in front of the cruiser, where there's light."

    Darla stomped around the front of my cruiser, attempted to touch her nose and caught herself on the hood of my car, glaring triumphantly at me.

    "He also tried the walk-and-turn. Want me to show you how it's supposed to be done?"

    "I ****ing know how it's supposed to be done!" So saying, she promptly failed that one, too. An angelic choir was softly singing hosannas in my ear, as I gently mentioned that Freddie had failed the Horizontal Gaze Nystagmus, and surely she...

    "I bet I've got a nystagmus too! Check and see!?"

    "Yeah!" announced Freddie.

    How could I say no?

    When I was done with my light, Darla looked at me triumphantly, "See? What did I tell you?"

    "You are totally correct, Darla," I said, feeling around for my spare set of handcuffs on the gear shift of the cruiser, "You said you'd fail the sobriety tests, and you did. Each and everyone."

    "So, you're going to let my baby go?"

    "Hell, no." I waved the handcuffs at her.

    Took me five minutes to get that biting, screaming, kicking, clawing, spitting, cussing hellcat into the cruiser, I'm here to tell you.

    Worth it, though.

    Last edited: Apr 17, 2006
  2. NukemJim

    NukemJim Participating Member

    Dec 26, 2002

    LawDog, I freely admit my ignorance
    ? Could you please explain ?

    Thank you


    PS Like your Blog, did you ever finish part3 of the pink gorilla suit ?:D
  3. LawDog

    LawDog Moderator Emeritus cum Laude

    Dec 20, 2002
    For the proper execution of the Migraine Salute:

    • 1. Look down.
      2. Close your eyes.
      3. Pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.
      4. Shake your head slightly back-and-forth.

    Voila! You have now executed a Migraine Salute. Go forth and use this power wisely, young Jedi.

  4. rero360

    rero360 Active Member

    Nov 15, 2005
    Fredonia, NY
    excelent as always :D , keep up the good work LawDog
  5. Nightfall

    Nightfall Participating Member

    Feb 24, 2003
    Ah, alcohol. While too often the catalyst that makes jerks into dangerous a-holes, it at least gives us the chance to speed them on their way to jail for an all too brief respite from their unfortunate existence. Too bad libertarianism and pre-approving procreation are contradictory. Some people just plain shouldn't be breedin'. :barf:
  6. James T Thomas

    James T Thomas Participating Member

    Sep 15, 2005
    Pittsburgh, PA
    never ending cycle


    Of course, you realise that Fred and mom will "be back." That surely has to be the difficult part; frustrating part of enforcement of the law that can burn you out.

    Some, or even most, never "learn." Don't let it embitter you at some latter time in your carreer, if you encounter them again, at which time this enactment of the human tradgedy will require even more stringent punishment from the courts, and yet there will probably be no recognition of any violation on their part!

    From my civilian viewpoint, the motor vehicle violations of a "moving" nature; i.e. DUI, reckless driving, high speeds, are right up there as the most serious things that you will encounter. Life and death. No less than assault with deadly weapons, which you surely will not come across as often, if at all.
    Yet, there it is right on the highways. Death -just as dead as if being shot.

    Take care of yourself officer. And know that as soon as Fred and the "likes of him," have been removed, there will be another along shortly. Pace yourself.

  7. NMshooter

    NMshooter Senior Member

    Jun 13, 2004
    When are you going to write the book, LawDog?

    I want an autographed copy!

  8. sturmruger

    sturmruger Senior Member

    Jan 4, 2003
    NW, WI
    Probably your best story yet!! Obviously not the brightest family in the whole world.
  9. Dusty Rusty

    Dusty Rusty New Member

    Dec 31, 2005
    Western Kentucky
    Lawdog--you sure do have a way with words. You really should publish your stories. I laugh myself silly every time I read about your adventures. I work in a prison and can really relate to any type of excuse a person can give. Keep up the great work---don't get burned out and most of all stay safe!!!!
    Thanks for the laughs.
  10. Standing Wolf

    Standing Wolf Member in memoriam

    Dec 24, 2002
    Idahohoho, the jolliest state
    If that was a motion, please consider it seconded.
  11. Henry Bowman

    Henry Bowman Senior Member

    Dec 30, 2002
    Cincinnati, Ohio
    No, I want to see it as a regular TV series. Has to be funnier than "My Name is Earl" and the rest out there.
  12. Lennyjoe

    Lennyjoe Mentor

    Dec 24, 2002
    Southwestern Ohio
    Wonder if he'd get the death penalty for this one?

    Thanks for the story dog!
  13. sm

    sm member

    Dec 22, 2002
    Between black coffee, and shiftn' gears
    Dawg done went from Paydirt to Motherload...Dawg done good!

    Thank You Sir!


  14. Pork Fat

    Pork Fat New Member

    Feb 16, 2006
    Charleston SC
    Thanks for sharing, Lawdog.

    Frederick's Mama sounds like a tasty dish.:eek:
  15. Zundfolge

    Zundfolge Elder

    Dec 24, 2002
    Colorado Springs

    Excellent story ... only thing that could have made it better would have been a pink gorilla suit :neener:
  16. bogie

    bogie Mentor

    Jan 2, 2003
    St. Louis, in the Don't Show Me state
    Dawg, you haven't been writing enough. Some folks are starting to get pretty darn serious on us.
  17. Jamie C.

    Jamie C. Participating Member

    Mar 27, 2005
    Tennessee... the top, middle part.
    I do believe...

    ..I've hurt myself. :uhoh:

    A fellow really shouldn't laugh this hard.....

    Damn, LawDog.... almost makes me wish I was still reeling in the drunks around here.... almost. ;)

    You really should meet our own "Otis" here... 21 counts of "1st offense D.U.I", last I heard... ( Don't ask me how this kind'a crap happens... He apparently knows the right people. :cuss: )

    The man was apprehended once while upside-down in a ditch.... still shifting gears in his truck. Should'a seen the look on his face when the officer hit the button on the seatbelt buckle... :evil:

    Anyway, thanks for the laugh... Just what I needed.

    Stay safe, and keep 'em coming.

  18. DevLcL

    DevLcL Active Member

    Dec 28, 2004
    Don't you love how drunk people think their smart enough to perform brain surgery? :barf:

  19. Old NFO

    Old NFO Member

    Nov 19, 2004
    Arlington, VA
    Okay, you now owe the Navy foir one "slightly" used keyboard full of coffee...:D
    Great one, and like others, it reminds me of a few folks I know!
  20. orangeninja

    orangeninja Senior Member

    Dec 4, 2003
    I dig it.:D

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