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story continuation story 1 part 1 of 2
07/16/11(Sat)16:34 No.9285665>>9284989 Continuing stories. These all are no injury or no-fire confrontations.
>be the late 80s >be 16 or 17, in Illinois in November >Saturday afternoon, just got off work, decide want to go check farm ponds for ducks >grab shotgun, field jacket, crappy old canvas ruck with couple duck decoys >Check first pond, notacreaturewasstirring.mp3 >pulling into barnyard near second pond, notice yard is rutted all to fuck and beyond and it's fresh. >tracks not headed towards pond, shrug and remind myself to ask our sharecroppers if they were working the woodline. >get about 500m from pond, hear laughing, country music. ok, wtf.jpg >crest hill pond is behind, 4 jacked up 4x4's full and I mean FULL of rednecks parked all around pond. >dam
(which was never designed to be driven on) is torn to fuck, literally
hundreds of beer cans everywhere, I can smell the alcohol 200m out on a
still day >walking down path, they no know I'm there. Decide to throw beer cans in pond and take turns shooting at them with a mini-14. >50m
out, guy currently shooting is so drunk he falls out of the truck bed,
has multiple negligent discharges. No injuries, but one truck now has
flat tire. >instead of beating the
shit outta him for being so irresponsible, they laugh, help him up,
reload. By now I'm right up on them, still unnoticed (not trying to be
sneaky, just walking. This is my land, dammit.) >have shotgun casually held around action in left hand, right hand on shoulder strap of ruck >"hey, who the fuck are you guys, and what the fuck are you doing tearing up my pond?" >guy
who was struggling to reload the mini-14 gets all up in my face. "we're
huntin kayotes (translates, I think, as coyotes). Hoo ta fuccch ar ya
ta be swarrin a me?" >staredown >He swings the ruger to his shoulder, pointed my general direction (we're less than 15 feet apart) |