This is a very rough draft of the last chapter of Book 9. Without the other chapters, read in order, you will miss a lot of the references. Sharing for opinion of the style, not content.
The mugger was old school. He had a knife, not a gun. Maybe he couldn’t afford the modern tools of his trade.
‘What’s that pussy dog for? Self defense? Give me that money order!’ he demanded.
‘He carries my really big honking space gun.’ I replied.
‘I’ll bet I can cut you before you can get to it’ he advised.
Note to self: Always make it obvious that you’ve filled out the money order before leaving the grocery store.
When he moved towards David and bent to reach David’s back pack, I figured he wanted to improve his game with my big honking space gun. I imagine a criminal could go far with a Keltec P50. The thing can fire 50 rounds of 5.7mm ammunition without reloading. Although it is a pistol, it uses the same magazine as the rifle used by Star Gate 1. So for a pistol the thing is huge and really looks to be out of a science fiction movie. I couldn’t let the young man advance his carrier with my big honking space gun. So I explained.
‘Words matter son. I did not say David carries my only gun.’ I advised.
He looked back towards me to see a my Keltec CP33 levelled at his face. The cartridge is only .22 LR, but it comes from the factory with a 33 round magazine. I’d bought the extension magazine kit so like the P50, it had 50 rounds available. Even if it made smaller holes, even with my eyesight he would be leaking from multiple holes if my finger so much as twitched. I was feeling twitchy.
‘Do you know who I am?’, I asked.
‘I am A,J. Drew. Slayer of dragons. Satan tried to kill me for 17 years. God tried to help for five of those years. They gave up in futility. I have been shot, stabbed, and blown up. I have been set on fire. I worship death. Fox News says my cult makes child porn snuff films for the Mexican drug cartels. You cant kill me’
Then I quoted Obi-Wan Kenobi:
“You can’t win, Darth. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”
All the while, the song Tubthumping by Chumbawamba pounded in my brain. You likely remember the song by its chorus: ‘I get knocked down, but I get up again’. Chumbawamba, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the advice of masters real, ficticious, or a combination of the two can inspire our true selves to be expressed.
He ran. I do not think he was afraid of the gun. With 50 rounds and nere zero recoil, even the legally blind can hit a moving target. You just do it like police. You spray and pray. Pray you don’t hit the innocent. I think he was afraid of catching the crazy. Too bad. If he had stuck around, I would have given him a broken bit of glass and a courtesy card. Later, Klingon poets would have written an opera greater than the Saga of Tribbles.
This story is as real as the giant bats that attacked Hunter Thompson as he fled a huge room service bill. This book has been as real as Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas. There is always a basis for gonzo journalism. But the message is more important than the level of exaggeration.
The difference between a fairy Tale and a war story is one begins ‘once upon a time’ and the other starts with ‘and this aint no shit’. No matter how true the story is, no matter the ratio between the real and the imagined, both provide a message.
This has been my war story and it aint no shit. My message, the moral of the story, is you never fucking give up. Like Santa, the Valkyre are always watching
Book 9
Conclusion
The mugger was old school. He had a knife, not a gun. M aybe he couldn’t afford the modern tppls of his trade.
‘What’s that pussy dog for? Self defence? Give me that money order!’ he demanded.
‘He carries my really big honking space gun.’ I replied.
‘I’ll bet I can cut you before you can get to it’ he advised.
When he moved towards David and bent to reach David’s back pack, I figured he wanted to improve his game with my big honking space gun. I imagine a criminal could go far with a Keltec P50. The thing can fire 50 rounds of 5.7mm ammunition without reloading. Although it is a pistol, it uses the same magazine as the rifle used by Star Gate 1. So for a pistol the thing is huge and really looks to be out of a science fiction movie. I couldn’t let the young man advance his carrier with my big honking space gun. So I explained.
‘Words matter son. I did not say David carries my only gun.’ I advised.
He looked back towards me to see a my Keltec CP33 levelled at his face. The cartridge is only .22 LR, but it comes from the factory with a 33 round magazine. I’d bought the extension magazine kit so like the P50, it had 50 rounds available. Even if it made smaller holes, even with my eyesight he would be leaking from multiple holes if my finger so much as twitched. I was feeling twitchy.
‘Do you know who I am?’, I asked.
‘I am A,J. Drew. Slayer of dragons. Satan tried to kill me for 17 years. God tried to help for five of those years. They gave up in futility. I have been shot, stabbed, and blown up. I have been set on fire. I worship death. Fox News says my cult makes child porn snuff films for the Mexican drug cartels. You cant kill me’
Then I quoted Obi-Wan Kenobi:
“You can’t win, Darth. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”
All the while, the song Tubthumping by Chumbawamba pounded in my brain. You likely remember the song by its chorus: ‘I get knocked down, but I get up again’. Chumbawamba, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the advice of masters real, ficticious, or a combination of the two can inspire our true selves to be expressed.
He ran. I do not think he was afraid of the gun. With 50 rounds and nere zero recoil, even the legally blind can hit a moving target. You just do it like police. You spray and pray. Pray you don’t hit the innocent. I think he was afraid of catching the crazy. Too bad. If he had stuck around, I would have given him a broken bit of glass and a courtesy card. Later, Klingon poets would have written an opera greater than the Saga of Tribbles.
This story is as real as the giant bats that attacked Hunter Thompson as he fled a huge room service bill. This book has been as real as Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas. There is always a basis for gonzo journalism. But the message is more important than the level of exaggeration.
The difference between a fairy Tale and a war story is one begins ‘once upon a time’ and the other starts with ‘and this aint no shit’. No matter how true the story is, no matter the ratio between the real and the imagined, both provide a message.
Book 9 is my war story and it aint no shit. My message is the moral of the story, like Santa, the Valkyrie are always watching. So you never fucking give up or you won’t get to my corner of heaven.
Imma go piss the night away.
Good night Bob.
I will see you soon.