I don't Believe it!!
My New Toy
My friends are fond of saying that my last words on this earth
will be something akin to, "hey ya'll, hold my
beer and watch this!" Well, I have outdone myself
once again. No doubt you will see this true story chronicled
in a LifeTime movie in the near future.
Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and
Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy"
is easily tickled. I had gone into the Star Market to pick
up some milk yesterday and I bought a superball in the checkout
line--50 cents. What a bargain! It tickled my fancy--still
does. That thing bounces soooooo high, and it has provided
me with hours of entertainment. It just doesn't get
any better than that, now does it?) I'm so easily distracted.
That dang superball is so much fun.
So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, I bought something
really cool at Larry's Pistol and Pawn last Saturday.
The occasion was my 50th birthday and I was looking for a
little something extra cool. What I came across was a 100, 000-volt,
pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of
you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal
stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate
an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage
electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are supposed
to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your
assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to
safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb.-tattooed
assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering,
goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck
geek. If you've never seen one of these things in action,
then you're truly missing out-it's way too cool!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.
I loaded two triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed
the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading
the directions, I found much to my chagrin that this particular
model would not create an arc between the prongs. How disappointing!
I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button,
however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd
get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between
the prongs that I was so looking forward to. I did so. Awesome!!!
Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yippeeeeee
. . . I'm so easily amused.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself
that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a
batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog
Molly looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading
the directions (that would be me, not Molly), and thinking
that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood
target. I must admit I thought about zapping Molly for a
fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such
a sweet doggy, after all. But, if I was going to use this thing
to protect myself against a mugger, I did want some assurance
that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong
to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time.
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading
glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions
in one hand, Tazer in another. The directions said that
a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant;
a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms
and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would
purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like
a fish out of water. All the while I'm looking at this
little device (measuring about 5" long, less than
3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really, and loaded
with two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself,
"no bloody way!" Bloody way--trust me, but
I'm getting ahead of myself.
What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll
do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty
good idea of what followed. I'm sitting there alone,
Molly looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say,
"don't do it daddy, " reasoning that a
one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't
hurt all that bad (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances,
wouldn't you agree?). I decided to give myself a one-second
burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision
is like hindsight--always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious
that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it
seemed so right at the time. Don't ya hate that?) I touched
the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and Holy
F**king Chit! DAMN!!!
I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through
the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body
slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall
waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire,
testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left
arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. Molly was
standing over me making whimpering sounds I had never heard
before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself,
"do it again daddy, do it again!" (Note: If you
ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note
of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst
when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of
that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent
thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you're lucky,
you won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep
in your thigh like yours truly.)
SON-OF-A-BIIIIITCH that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't
be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected
my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the
landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the
fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right
thigh and both nipples were still throbbing. My face felt
like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed
88-lbs. +/- an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure.
By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran
away. I'm offering a reward. Miss 'em . . . sure
would like to get 'em back.
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