Hacker Chronicles 2 (Alt)/The_Hacker_Chronicles_Volume_II-CD2.iso/cdc/cdc149.txt

Text File | 1995-01-03 | 10.3 KB | 199 lines

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  ...presents...                   Rural Hell
                                                         by THE NIGHTSTALKER

                      >>> a cDc publication.......1991 <<<
                        -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
 ______________________________________________________________________________


     Greet
ings, Gentle Readers!  Herewith is a small cautionary tale for your
edification, detailing the benefits of acting the Public Spirited Citizen and
the results of being an obnoxious asshole!

     Some few weeks ago, in the Vermont city I reside in, I had a most exciting
few minutes in an otherwise dull and boring weekend.  The highlight was having
some local yobbos, in a car, tossing beer bottles at me and the dog, IN FRONT
OF MY HOUSE, as we were going for a walk.  They got a surprise, though,
thinking that
 being in a car, they were immune from immediate retaliation.  It
seems that one of the bottles, a nice, heavy Michelobe bottle, hit the grass
and not the concrete, and as such, didn't break.  I dropped the dog's leash,
picked up the bottle and chased them on foot, knowing that they'd have to slow
down at the corner.  I was able to get close enough to launch the bottle with
every last erg of energy in my body.  (I threw it so hard, I fell down into a
forward roll and back to my feet again) just in time to s
ee the bottle SMASH
their rear window out!, showering the assholes with broken glass.

     A mere second later, I have pulled the driver, who tossed the bottle that
broke, out the driver's side window and am 'explaining' the facts of life and
driver/pedestrian courtesy to him.  (This is where I hurt my knee on his pelvis
and my fist on his face.  Ow!)

     I then explained to his passengers, as I held the bleeding, battered
driver at arm's length (with one hand.  That's how I strained that shoulder
muscle
.  Still, it LOOKED great, and that's all that really mattered.) that
should I EVER see them on my street again, I would cheerfully do to them what I
had done to the driver.  And when he is capable of understanding human speech
again, to pass the message along to him.

     Other than that, my weekend was dull, boring and drab.

     The next day, I was called upon by one of the local cops in regards to
last nights tete' a tete'.  I denied everything, of course.  The cop, being a
cool fellow, remarked that
these yobbos had been cruising all night, looking
for trouble, and that if they found more than they could handle, well, that was
their problem, now wasn't it?

     Also, the car (an expensive foreign job) belonged to daddy, and he wasn't
too thrilled that junior brought it home severely damaged and stinking of beer,
as well as having to be hauled to the hospital for his injuries.

     Life's a bitch, huh?

     Well, the day after THAT, I was called by the local police, and asked to
come down to the stat
ion in regards to this little to-do.  Waiting for me was
the father of the lout I 'explained' things to, as well as the owner of the
car.  (A pushy, cigar-smoking shithead of a Vermont incest mutant.)

     He wanted me to pay for ALL his son's hospital expenses (considerable, it
seems.  I did a LOT more damage than I suspected.  What can I say?  My strength
is as the strength of 10, because I'm a FUCKING MUTANT!  Praise Dobbs!) and pay
to have his rear window replaced and pay to have the blood-soaked inter
ior
cleaned/replaced and finally, spend the rest of my life in jail for this
unwarranted assault.

     Seems that Junior and his cronies concocted a tale of how I assaulted
them, first by stopping their car and making the driver fight me.  (Yeah, I'd
LOVE to hear that story too!)

     Now, the officer in charge of the investigation, another cool fellow,
proceeded to drag out the police records of all four kids.  Foremost among
their arrests were underage drinking, drunk driving, and assault and battery.
S
eems these yobbos were in the habit of getting sauced and looking for trouble.

     So, here I am, pushing 40 years of age, yearly contributor to the local
Police Athletic League and associate member of the Police Benevolent
Association, as well as a public-spirited citizen (this same cop is usually on
duty when the local Red Cross has blood drives, and I always give blood) and
generally law-abiding, upstanding citizen with NO police record whatsoever.

     In other words, the police are taking MY side an
d fully prepared to
believe MY story.

     Needless to say, the cigar-smoking incest mutant was sore pissed and
threatened me with all sorts of bodily harm, right in front of a cop!!!
The cop then cited the jerk for some obscure law concerning threatening the
life and well being of a citizen!

     Gawdam!!!  I LOVE this country!

     For those keeping score, Junior is in the hospital with a broken jaw and
smashed cheekbone.  Broken teeth.  Hairline fracture of the pelvis and a pair
of severely damaged te
sticles.  Along with a few broken ribs.

     Life IS good!

     The Final Chapter.

     Well, the cop investigating the brutal assault was over here the other
day, and I 'confessed' to him what REALLY happened.  (Note, tell the cops what
they want to hear and want to believe.)  Seems that these four were looking for
trouble, threw a beer-bottle at me, which broke and showered my dog and me with
broken glass.  (I showed the cop the glass that's still there in the grass and
on the roadside.)  I flipped the
 car the middle finger and yelled "ASSHOLES!"
at them.  At that, they stopped the car and all piled out, seemingly intent on
beating me up for my insolence.  (A sensei once told me that the best way to
stop a mob of people intent on doing you harm was to take out the leader (if
possible) fast, hard and hideous!  The more screaming, broken bones and blood,
the better.  It tends to demoralize the mob and give one a chance to escape.
By the way, I didn't tell the cop I had several years of martial arts traini
ng.
He didn't need to know that, you see.)  So, (continuing my tissue of lies) I
took out the leader of the mob, and they lost all interest in continuing the
affair.  They picked up their friend and tossed him in the car and took off.
The cop admitted he kind of thought that's what happened.  I explained that I
wanted to avoid all the nonsense and bother of filing a complaint, being that
Junior came off the worse in the encounter.  He asked about the rear window.  I
guessed they did that themselves in order
 to make their story that I started
everything sound more reasonable.  That's how he figured it as well.  The
upshot of all this is that there will be NO charges of any kind filed against
me.  The official investigation result is that I acted in self defense.

     The father will have to appear in court to answer the citation of
threatening me, and with a cop as a witness, this clown is screwed!  I shall,
of course, appear as a witness and make a statement to the effect that I really
don't wish to see the
fellow fined or anything.  After all, he spoke in the
heat of anger, and I would be loath to see him suffer for his temper.  I know
if MY son had provoked a fight and gotten beaten up and in the hospital, I
would be upset as well.

     Well, Gentle Readers, it seems that I lucked out this time.  There were NO
witnesses to the actual event, save for Junior and his cronies.  The cops were
NOT inclined to believe them, and were falling all over themselves to believe
me.  Such are the benefits of investing the
 time, money and effort in creating
the facade of respectability.  In my Flaming Youth, I skated along the edge of
the law frequently, yet never had any suspicion come my way.  Why?  Because I
worked at being a good student in school and a Good Citizen.  Even something as
simple as tossing a smile and a wave to the cop in the car that passes you can
reap benefits far in excess of the effort involved.  For example, if one is
trashing for CC#s in a part of town one seldom frequents, what cop will stop
and has
sle someone who smiles at the sight of them and gives them a friendly
wave?  That ONE simple gesture worked wonders for me many times.

     So, I guess the moral of this tale is, Fortune favors the prepared man.  I
laid the groundworks and when the time came, my investments paid off a
thousandfold.

Gentle Readers, I remain,
Yours in Good Fortune, THE NIGHTSTALKER

  _   _   ____________________________________________________________________
/((___))\|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Grassroots..........
....new # soon|
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   (U)   |====================================================================|
  .ooM   |Copr. 1991 cDc communications by THE NIGHTSTALKER.     01/03/91-#149|
\_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.                                             |



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