Never Say...."Go Ahead And Shoot!" Part IV
When we left our story, Gene was pointing the shotgun at the front door and screaming at the top of his lungs that he ‘ought to blow my brains out!’
Needless to say….I was flummoxed as to why he would want to kill me.
I saw him stand up from the couch and start towards the door…shotgun in hand. He raised the shotgun to his eye.
“I just bought that fuckin’ door asshole!” He roared. “That’s the only reason I don’t shoot your ass!”
As I hugged the side of the porch trying to make myself invisible, I tried to reason with him.
“Gene….why the hell are you mad at me?” I asked. “I’m just trying to keep you from doing something stupid!”
I quickly peeked in the front window and saw him go back to couch and sit down while still holding the shotgun which I now saw clearly. It was a 4/10 shotgun…..thankfully. Although deadly, it wasn’t a twelve gauge!
Maybe we would live through this thing after all!
I figured that if he were truly serious about killing himself or ME…he would be wielding a nine millimeter pistol or a sixteen gauge pump shotgun (both of which he owned).
About that time, two police cars came flying into the driveway!
Oh yeah…the plot definitely thickened quickly.
Before the cops exited their cars, Marion did.
She had ridden along with them and as they came to a complete stop, she vaulted out of the lead car and ran across the yard toward me.
“What’s he doing?” She demanded.
I watched as she joined me on the porch. The cops took up positions behind their open doors with riot guns trained at the house.
Within seconds, three more police vehicles roared into the driveway and six more cops joined the scene.
I yelled at them.
“Hey….ya’ll just relax….the poor guy is just having a bad day. Just relax!!” I pleaded.
One of the cops yelled at me.
“Sir…..you and the young lady need to walk toward me with your hands in the air!”
Before I could move, Gene fired a blast through the front window not two feet from my head.
“Nobody moves ANYWHERE until I say so!” He shouted.
Now….call me presumptuous but I figured that with that shotgun blast, we had gone from a simple ‘depressed junkie with a gun’ situation into a serious, ‘Oh shit…somebody fired a shot” type of deal!
I was right!
Suddenly, several guns fired even though I had no idea what the hell they were shooting at! Gene was hunkered down in the living room and Marion and I were standing just feet away from the living room window which was suddenly shattered by multiple bullets.
I remember shouting at the cops.
“Stop shooting!”
Hey….I realize that I didn’t scream anything particularly brilliant but it's the best I could come up with on short notice!
They did however stop firing into the house.
Seconds after the shooting stopped, Gene spoke up.
“Ron….you motherfucker! You called the cops on me!” He screamed.
Marion, being the moron that she was, added her voice to the fray.
“I called the cops you big ASSHOLE!” She hollered. “You’re out of your damned mind!”
I grabbed Marion and pushed her roughly off of the porch. She landed in the flower bed three feet below and screamed at me as though she had taken a plunge of the Golden Gate Bridge!
“You ASSHOLE!”
“Marion….get out of here!” I shouted. “Gene, put the gun down and let me come inside.” I shouted.
One of the cops shouted at me through a microphone.
“Don’t move Ron….we’ll get him out of there.”
I walked to the door and opened the storm door.
I knocked on the wooden front door.
I could see through one of the small windows in the door that Gene had come within a few feet of the front door.
“Ron…you better get the hell out of here or I’m gonna kill you!” He screamed,
“Gene…what the hell are you pissed at me about?” I asked.
A moment passed as I stood there looking at him.
“Get off my fuckin’ porch or I’m gonna blow you away Ron!” He screamed.
Well hell…..I couldn’t think of anything else to say and I was REALLY tired of playing his dumb assed game so……..I shouted at him at the top of my lungs.
Yeah…you guessed it……..
I said those magic words that I’ll NEVER forget!
Every time I get an x-ray, MRI, or go through a metal detector, I remember those fateful words.
Yep………
I stood in front of the doors with my shoulders pulled back like Superman and defiantly posed not ten feet from a maniac with a shotgun.
You’re right….everyone of you out there reading this….
I was a grade ‘A’ dumb ass.
“Go ahead and SHOOT you fuckin’ idiot!” I shouted. “I’m tired of all this bullshit!”
Bad Move!!
No sooner had I uttered those words than the door exploded and I found myself propelled off the porch. I swear I can remember being in mid air and wondering if I was going to live.
I hit the ground like a two hundred pound sack of stupid on my back as all the air left my lungs.
Rolling around on the ground in agony, I realized that gunfire had erupted from the cop cars again and somehow managed to get to my knees and saw what was happening.
The cops were shooting but Gene was hiding inside the house. He didn’t fire again.
Finally, I got to my feet and realized that I wasn’t dead nor was I seriously hurt.
I kept screaming at the cops to stop shooting until finally, they did just that.
After the gunfire subsided, Gene could be heard whimpering inside the house.
“Oh dear God!” He cried. “I didn’t mean to kill him!”
He repeated this several times until Marion chimed in.
“So why the fuck did you shoot him?!!!” She shouted.
Nobody said anything until Marion spoke up.
“By the way…..you MISSED HIM!!” She said sarcastically.
“What?” Gene asked.
I checked myself out and saw blood EVERYWHERE!
“Gene….just so you know……you didn’t miss me…I think I’m bleeding to death!!!”
Cops were shouting at me to get down but I walked back up the steps to the front door.
Side Note here…..
I know of at least ONE of ya’ll will claim that I’m making this shit up. (You know who you are)
HOWEVER….
The truth is that I could see a dozen or so holes in the front door. All but one of the holes were entry holes from the policemen. Gene’s shot was the lone exit hole and was the size of half dollar.
As I approached the door, I reared back and directed my right foot at the panel closest to the doorknob in the six panel door. My foot went through the panel as though there was nothing but air in my way!
I was suddenly aware that not only had the door not actually flown open under my assault but my leg was trapped in the shattered wood and Gene was once again preparing to shoot me!
Sure enough…….his shotgun fired again!
I was, once again, flung backwards as though someone had well…..as though someone had shot me with a friggin’ shotgun!
I hit the porch flat on my back and the air was suddenly filled with gunshots again.
After a few seconds…everything got quite again.
Suddenly, everyone heard a stern, extremely authoritative voice rang out in the night.
“Gene!! Open the door and come out of there!!” His mother shouted. “This has gone on long enough. Come out now!” She demanded.
There was a long silence. Maybe a couple of minutes. Then Gene spoke again.
“Okay….I’m coming out.” Was all he said.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, he opened the battered door and walked onto the front porch where he saw me lying there bleeding like a stuck pig.
Without saying a word, he lunged toward me.
Falling onto one knee, he reached for my neck and I nailed him with a quick right hand to the side of his face.
He fell flat on his face on the porch, half lying on top of me then I heard him shouting.
“I’m sorry man, I’m sorry……I thought I’d killed you. You’re bleeding bad!” He screamed.
Cops rushed the porch and there were a dozen pistols trained on him within seconds.
The cops grabbed Gene and cuffed him until all of a sudden, he apparently had a seizure.
He convulsed for what seemed like an eternity while EMS personel worked on both of us.
Within minutes, I found myself in the same ambulance with Gene and we took the long trip to the hospital.
During those fifteen minutes or so, Gene recovered from his drug induced seizure and explained to me that he thought that Marion and I were having a fling behind his back and that he had been strung out on THC for a long while AND that he was sorry for having shot me….TWICE!
To make a long story short…BELIEVE IT OR NOT….I didn’t press charges against Gene although the cops did.
Although we never spoke again, we parted friends….well….friendly.
Anyway, the moral of this story is simple…
Never EVER say…
“Go ahead and SHOOT!!”
It probably won’t end well.
P.S.
I recovered quickly from my wounds. They removed some shotgun pellets but a bunch of them still reside in this old body including one that is nestled in very close proximity to my spinal cord in the neck area.
NO SHIT!!
What can I say?
I’m blessed.
Oh yeah...I never saw Gene OR Marion again.
Thank The Lord!
I hope to see ya’ll again soon.
Needless to say….I was flummoxed as to why he would want to kill me.
I saw him stand up from the couch and start towards the door…shotgun in hand. He raised the shotgun to his eye.
“I just bought that fuckin’ door asshole!” He roared. “That’s the only reason I don’t shoot your ass!”
As I hugged the side of the porch trying to make myself invisible, I tried to reason with him.
“Gene….why the hell are you mad at me?” I asked. “I’m just trying to keep you from doing something stupid!”
I quickly peeked in the front window and saw him go back to couch and sit down while still holding the shotgun which I now saw clearly. It was a 4/10 shotgun…..thankfully. Although deadly, it wasn’t a twelve gauge!
Maybe we would live through this thing after all!
I figured that if he were truly serious about killing himself or ME…he would be wielding a nine millimeter pistol or a sixteen gauge pump shotgun (both of which he owned).
About that time, two police cars came flying into the driveway!
Oh yeah…the plot definitely thickened quickly.
Before the cops exited their cars, Marion did.
She had ridden along with them and as they came to a complete stop, she vaulted out of the lead car and ran across the yard toward me.
“What’s he doing?” She demanded.
I watched as she joined me on the porch. The cops took up positions behind their open doors with riot guns trained at the house.
Within seconds, three more police vehicles roared into the driveway and six more cops joined the scene.
I yelled at them.
“Hey….ya’ll just relax….the poor guy is just having a bad day. Just relax!!” I pleaded.
One of the cops yelled at me.
“Sir…..you and the young lady need to walk toward me with your hands in the air!”
Before I could move, Gene fired a blast through the front window not two feet from my head.
“Nobody moves ANYWHERE until I say so!” He shouted.
Now….call me presumptuous but I figured that with that shotgun blast, we had gone from a simple ‘depressed junkie with a gun’ situation into a serious, ‘Oh shit…somebody fired a shot” type of deal!
I was right!
Suddenly, several guns fired even though I had no idea what the hell they were shooting at! Gene was hunkered down in the living room and Marion and I were standing just feet away from the living room window which was suddenly shattered by multiple bullets.
I remember shouting at the cops.
“Stop shooting!”
Hey….I realize that I didn’t scream anything particularly brilliant but it's the best I could come up with on short notice!
They did however stop firing into the house.
Seconds after the shooting stopped, Gene spoke up.
“Ron….you motherfucker! You called the cops on me!” He screamed.
Marion, being the moron that she was, added her voice to the fray.
“I called the cops you big ASSHOLE!” She hollered. “You’re out of your damned mind!”
I grabbed Marion and pushed her roughly off of the porch. She landed in the flower bed three feet below and screamed at me as though she had taken a plunge of the Golden Gate Bridge!
“You ASSHOLE!”
“Marion….get out of here!” I shouted. “Gene, put the gun down and let me come inside.” I shouted.
One of the cops shouted at me through a microphone.
“Don’t move Ron….we’ll get him out of there.”
I walked to the door and opened the storm door.
I knocked on the wooden front door.
I could see through one of the small windows in the door that Gene had come within a few feet of the front door.
“Ron…you better get the hell out of here or I’m gonna kill you!” He screamed,
“Gene…what the hell are you pissed at me about?” I asked.
A moment passed as I stood there looking at him.
“Get off my fuckin’ porch or I’m gonna blow you away Ron!” He screamed.
Well hell…..I couldn’t think of anything else to say and I was REALLY tired of playing his dumb assed game so……..I shouted at him at the top of my lungs.
Yeah…you guessed it……..
I said those magic words that I’ll NEVER forget!
Every time I get an x-ray, MRI, or go through a metal detector, I remember those fateful words.
Yep………
I stood in front of the doors with my shoulders pulled back like Superman and defiantly posed not ten feet from a maniac with a shotgun.
You’re right….everyone of you out there reading this….
I was a grade ‘A’ dumb ass.
“Go ahead and SHOOT you fuckin’ idiot!” I shouted. “I’m tired of all this bullshit!”
Bad Move!!
No sooner had I uttered those words than the door exploded and I found myself propelled off the porch. I swear I can remember being in mid air and wondering if I was going to live.
I hit the ground like a two hundred pound sack of stupid on my back as all the air left my lungs.
Rolling around on the ground in agony, I realized that gunfire had erupted from the cop cars again and somehow managed to get to my knees and saw what was happening.
The cops were shooting but Gene was hiding inside the house. He didn’t fire again.
Finally, I got to my feet and realized that I wasn’t dead nor was I seriously hurt.
I kept screaming at the cops to stop shooting until finally, they did just that.
After the gunfire subsided, Gene could be heard whimpering inside the house.
“Oh dear God!” He cried. “I didn’t mean to kill him!”
He repeated this several times until Marion chimed in.
“So why the fuck did you shoot him?!!!” She shouted.
Nobody said anything until Marion spoke up.
“By the way…..you MISSED HIM!!” She said sarcastically.
“What?” Gene asked.
I checked myself out and saw blood EVERYWHERE!
“Gene….just so you know……you didn’t miss me…I think I’m bleeding to death!!!”
Cops were shouting at me to get down but I walked back up the steps to the front door.
Side Note here…..
I know of at least ONE of ya’ll will claim that I’m making this shit up. (You know who you are)
HOWEVER….
The truth is that I could see a dozen or so holes in the front door. All but one of the holes were entry holes from the policemen. Gene’s shot was the lone exit hole and was the size of half dollar.
As I approached the door, I reared back and directed my right foot at the panel closest to the doorknob in the six panel door. My foot went through the panel as though there was nothing but air in my way!
I was suddenly aware that not only had the door not actually flown open under my assault but my leg was trapped in the shattered wood and Gene was once again preparing to shoot me!
Sure enough…….his shotgun fired again!
I was, once again, flung backwards as though someone had well…..as though someone had shot me with a friggin’ shotgun!
I hit the porch flat on my back and the air was suddenly filled with gunshots again.
After a few seconds…everything got quite again.
Suddenly, everyone heard a stern, extremely authoritative voice rang out in the night.
“Gene!! Open the door and come out of there!!” His mother shouted. “This has gone on long enough. Come out now!” She demanded.
There was a long silence. Maybe a couple of minutes. Then Gene spoke again.
“Okay….I’m coming out.” Was all he said.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, he opened the battered door and walked onto the front porch where he saw me lying there bleeding like a stuck pig.
Without saying a word, he lunged toward me.
Falling onto one knee, he reached for my neck and I nailed him with a quick right hand to the side of his face.
He fell flat on his face on the porch, half lying on top of me then I heard him shouting.
“I’m sorry man, I’m sorry……I thought I’d killed you. You’re bleeding bad!” He screamed.
Cops rushed the porch and there were a dozen pistols trained on him within seconds.
The cops grabbed Gene and cuffed him until all of a sudden, he apparently had a seizure.
He convulsed for what seemed like an eternity while EMS personel worked on both of us.
Within minutes, I found myself in the same ambulance with Gene and we took the long trip to the hospital.
During those fifteen minutes or so, Gene recovered from his drug induced seizure and explained to me that he thought that Marion and I were having a fling behind his back and that he had been strung out on THC for a long while AND that he was sorry for having shot me….TWICE!
To make a long story short…BELIEVE IT OR NOT….I didn’t press charges against Gene although the cops did.
Although we never spoke again, we parted friends….well….friendly.
Anyway, the moral of this story is simple…
Never EVER say…
“Go ahead and SHOOT!!”
It probably won’t end well.
P.S.
I recovered quickly from my wounds. They removed some shotgun pellets but a bunch of them still reside in this old body including one that is nestled in very close proximity to my spinal cord in the neck area.
NO SHIT!!
What can I say?
I’m blessed.
Oh yeah...I never saw Gene OR Marion again.
Thank The Lord!
I hope to see ya’ll again soon.
6 Comments:
You obviously had a whole herd of guardian angels protecting you during this part of your life!
Thank goodness those two crazies stayed away after that. Not sure anyone could have survived another episode.
Thanks for this, darlin'... great stuff, as always.
Now, see, after an ordeal like that, I would have gone into seclusion or joined a convent. But I'm betting you just continued on, having crazy adventures with new certifiable people. How exactly did you survive?
I can't tell if you have a life well lived, but you've sure lived a hell of a life. No going quietly into that dark nite for you.
I'm sure glad you survived.
Wowsers! Whatta story! Glad you came out of it ok.
Pleeeese, tell us another one, Uncle Ron! ;)
Once again, you have managed to keep us on the edge of our seats. Thanks Ron.
Pretty good story there Ron. I am also another dumbass that told someone "Go ahead and shoot asshole. I'll bet you ain't got the balls!" To this day I have a nice little scar under my right nipple and a little bigger one under my right shoulder blade. The sumbitch shot me with a 30-30. Good thing it was close range and a full metal jacket round. It just made a nice clean hole all the way through without expanding too much. I did think I was going to drowned in my own blood though. My right lung collapsed and I tell you, that bullet didn't hurt much but having a chest tube put in at the emergency room was the worst pain I think I've ever felt. I lived. So did my cousin even though he spent a few years in the pokie. I didn't press charges either and I refused to testify against him but some other people did so he did some time for it. I learned a very valuable life lesson that day. I'm sure you know how I felt and you surely learned the same lesson. I wonder what it is about southern men? Are we stupid or just not much scared of anything?
Joe
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