|John snaked his way through the half-opened door of the Lounge, halfway expecting the entrance to be booby-trapped.
Not a sound.
The shadows were lengthening from the slow but steady progress of the sun as it traced its inevitable path through the late afternoon sky, edging closer to the horizon.
He swung the muzzle of his AR-15 to his shoulder and simultaneously flicked the red-dot sight on. He hated urban patrols like this because he had to tuck in his elbows and bring his support hand up to just in front of the magazine well, which prohibit a certain amount of control under rapid fire situations. The AR had very little recoil, but it was enough to raise the muzzle above the target for a split second, requiring a small amount of effort and precious fractions of a second to bring the muzzle back to its intended point of aim.
The shadows were getting longer.
He honestly expected at least one or two people to be here, but after more than six hours of surveillance, not a single soul had entered or left. Suddenly, and almost imperceptibly, there was a sliver of motion coming from the easy chair in the corner, followed by a low guttural moan. Whoever - or WHATever - it was, John's presence had not yet been detected.
He ran, half-crouched over, weapon ready for anything he might find, to a point just behind and to the right of the chair. Without another second's hesitation, he spun the chair around on it's base, and stopped it with his foot, screaming, "DON'T MOVE DIRTBAG!"
Then he saw them. Dalek Dave with two hamsters in his lap - all of them passed out drunk. The hamsters were wearing their Codeproject t-shirts backwards and one had donned a pair of white men's briefs on his head that were emblazoned with a pair of bright red, overlapping D's. Dave was obviously having some sort of weird dream, and was chanting "Bob"' over and over again. Spit bubbles were forming after each chant, and popping with each successive word.
John lowered his rifle, muttering to himself, and as he walked out, he shook his head.
".45 ACP - because shooting twice is just silly"
- JSOP, 2010
-----You can never have too much ammo - unless you're swimming, or on fire.
- JSOP, 2010
-----"Why don't you tie a kerosene-soaked rag around your ankles so the ants won't climb up and eat your candy ass."
- Dale Earnhardt, 1997
modified on Saturday, July 30, 2011 10:21 PM