Names: Phil, Bob, Bill, Ted, dumbass, dipshit, drifter
Weapon: M16A2, Busted Handguard, the silver duct tape holding it together is peeling off, Three magazines, seven rounds of ammo.
Clothes: Stained cargo shorts, a bank of america T shirt, stained, (The free sign up for a credit card kind), New Balance running shoes with the soles peeling off, Oakland A's hat. Did wear one of those straw gardening hats, until a big dust storm blew it away. Had a tourist gift shop sombero for awile, but it fell apart. Doesn't matter, The skin on my face, is turning into a baseball glove anyway.
Major Gear: My little Pony backpack containing,
1. 3 24oz cans of Coors Lite
2. 1 open can of blue diamond smokehouse almonds
3. 1 butter knife
4. 1 pair of tighty whiteys
5. 3 pairs of socks
6. 1 half empty flask of Old Grandad
7. 1 roll of beautiful beautiful shitpaper in a ziplock
8. 1 towel (the real shitpaper)
Saying/Motto: Avoid confrontation, but, when the going gets tough, avoid it more....
I keep 3 rounds in the rifle, and I put 2 rounds each in the other two mags, then put them in my front pocket with the top of the mags facing out. I'm a millionare baby! Most folks seeing that knows I'm loaded.
Don't shoot, ever, anymore: It was easier back in the begining, back when....fuck it..you were probably there too, just shoot, light their punk asses up. Didn't last long. Last time I shot there was 9 left. I was lucky. I got him in two shots. That dude had probably 25-30 some odd .223 rounds on him and an M4. I let it go, keeping up appearances, I had "90", so I was the big man and let the "Townsfolk"/"Dumbasses" have them. Sheeeit, you'd think I'd turned electricity back on. It was all cool. All the food and Tang I could handle. Kinky shit too. Don't get me wrong, it aint no playboy bunny three way, what with all the starvation and all, heeeheheeee, but, fuck it, anything looks good after two months on the trail. And maannn, nothing makes em hotter than a couple of blue diamonds and a beer. Pure gold baybay!
They were hardasses, but since I was the big hero, they kinda bought some shit I was telling them about the "Gubmint" being put together in Texas. Hell, I even showed em my Texas drivers license and said "I don't trust em either, but they're the only ones there is". Worked ok, kinda half assed, but a couple more days of chow is good.
Left three days ago, while the leaving was good.
Laying in the ditch. Theres a bunch of dudes on the road ahead coming this way, two on horses. Can't count all of em, too dusty. Two hundred yards of open land on each side. They're pretty skinny, not looking too hot. I gotta put all 7 in one mag now. They're gonna see me soon. Pop the two on the horses and haul ass. "I'm up, I'm running, I'm down" heheheee, just like in the Army....heheheeeeee
"HEY! OVER THERE!"
time to go hombre......
“If God dwells inside us like some people say, I sure hope He likes enchiladas, because that's what He's getting”
Deep Thoughts-Jack Handy