I’d like y’all to meet Joe Critter. Don’t mind the vacant look in his eyes — we’re not sure if that’s normal, or a result of his … ahem … arrest.
A couple of days ago, Joe here (being, well, a critter) decided to improve his financial lot in life by relieving a local construction contractor of a … thingummy. It was a very nice thingummy, as thingummies go, with 18 volt batteries and whole bunch of attachable wozzits and even a couple of doohickies.
Joe attempted to resell his acquired thingummy, but — unfortunately — the previous (rightful) owner had etched his name and the name of his company rather flamboyantly upon the side of the thingummy. All of the local item redistributing/financial centres thereabouts know the gentleman whose name was so clearly attached to the afore-mentioned thingummy, and none of them were dumb enough to glom onto the thingummy.
Finally, pushed to the brink of desperation, Joe was cruising the main street and noticed an extremely large diesel pick-up truck with a familiar name emblazoned on the side parked at a local fast-food eatery. The same name, as a matter-of-fact, as the one etched into the side of the thingummy.
Joe ponders for a while and comes up with a plan so cunning, so brilliant, so Machiavellian, as to defy description by lesser minds.
In furtherance of this fiendishly clever plot, Joe parked his 1980-something Subaru Justy punkmobile beside the diesel truck, then leaned upon the horn until such time as he attracted the attention of the construction crew inside.
Once he had their attention, he drew them outside by the wicked tactic of waving frantically from the inside of the Justy. One should point out at this time that Young Joe was smart enough to keep the car in ‘REVERSE’ in case Murphy should frown upon his crafty machinations.
Foot pressed firmly upon the clutch, Joe waved the thingummy at the construction crew and announced that said thingummy had fallen from the truck some streets back, and for the paltry sum of one hundred dollars American, he’d relinquish possession.
Cunning, wot?
The Head Sasquatch of the construction crew contemplated this generous offer for a moment, then delicately opined that it would be difficult for the thingummy to have just fallen off the truck, considering that it had been stolen from a construction site two days previous.
Joe, no fool he, immediately realized that the game was twigged, and being the debonair gangsta, he made sure to give the gorilla pack a good look at his extended social digit before popping his foot off the clutch.
I would imagine the sounds of the local police dispatch number being dialled into a cell-phone right outside of the drivers side door probably clued him into the fact that Things Weren’t Quite Right.
Or maybe it was the gold-toothed grin belonging to the shaved yeti holding the front end of the Justy (and coincidentally enough, the rapidly-spinning front tyres) up off of the parking lot.
Whichever.
Now, a lesser man would have simply folded like a paper hat. Maybe even grovelled a bit, to appeal to the soft, gentle side of the WWE rejects surrounding his ride.
Not our Joe, though. Nope. Our Joe is tough man, street tough. He don’t take no [deleted] from citizens. No, sir! Our Joe quickly demonstrated that the proper way to treat such disrespect is to roll up both windows, engage both door-locks and make gang signs and obscene gestures at the foolish wage-slaves, while simultaneously shrieking threats towards those responsible for such outrageous conduct!
Of course, as anyone knows, being threatened with Gang Violence should be responded to by retreating and abject apologies.
Only complete and total savages would don a full-face helmet, fire up a Husqvarna hydraulic saw and commence to convertible-ize the Subaru — free of charge. An act which was apparently met with lusty cheers and shouted recommendations — some of which were Not Politically Correct — from the rest of the cafe patrons.
*scratch, scratch*
Ripping both doors off — by hand — was a nice touch, I think.
Anyhoo, responding officers report that Joe was found sitting very still in the drivers seat, and detectives announced that they cleared seven burglary cases before they could get him to stop confessing.
*gigglesnort*
LawDog
A sort of opposite story: In the early 80’s, a friend of mine was cruising in his dad’s new Omni O24. A group of guys with more muscles than brains picked up the back end of the car to prevent him from leaving. The stick-shift, front drive car. Friend revved the engine. The muscle-bound laughed, apparently thinking they were preventing forward motion. Friend then dumped the clutch and moved forward quite suddenly, causing the muscle-bound to quickly drop the back end as they were yanked towards the pavement.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry LawDog. While the critters are mildly entertaining, their numbers are growing all too fast for my liking.
Maybe this critter will be in jail long enough to not reproduce for several years.
That’s a truly impressive sequence of failing to consider the consequences of actions.
The mere fact that Joe was depending on a Subaru Justy as his getaway vehicle suggests a fearsome lack of functional gray matter.
However, I must admit I feel a bit uneasy at your description of how the wage-slaves in question casually dismantled a vehicle they did not own. Destruction of private property is still a crime, is it not, even when the victim is such a richly deserving chap? I mean, suppose the car had also been stolen?
I don’t suppose there is a news article on the web about this, maybe with a mug shot or a group photo of the WWE Team?
Lawdog, I’ve read through quite a bit of your recent bloggings and archives and enjoyed all of it.
I’m a fairly staid guy when it comes to internet humor but I definitely let out a little chuckle when I heard this thinking “I would have paid cash to have been there and seen this.”
Mr. Dog, this story REALLY needs a picture!! LOL!!
Bwah-hahahahahaha!
I commend you on your sober, thoughtful reporting, sir.
I would pay a great deal of cash money to have seen the look on Joe’s face.
LD, they are continuing to multiply! Obviously the gene pool needs a little more .45 chlorine.
Like opening a can of sardines…
You just made my Friday. 🙂 That was great. And I agree, a photo of the vehicle would have been just about perfect!
Mr. Dog,
Thank you for the delightful commentary. Please respond at your earlies convience for the shipping address on my new keyboard.
BWHA-HAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA……
……..HAHAHAHA…. “cleared seven burglary cases before they could get him to stop confessing.” HEE-HEEHEEHAHA……….. that’s the funniest stuff I’ve read all week…….
All I have to say are these words.
I LOVE LIVING IN TEXAS. I do..I really do.
Hehe…sawed the top off to make it a convertible…that’s thinking right there that is…
hehe
Mr. Dog, sir, that requires at least a Class Three Drink Alert [snorft, bwahahaha!!!] Thanks for a great start to my Friday.
LittleRed1
I agree with Little Red, I very nearly ruined a laptop while reading your post this morning! Although a laugh this long and deep is a great way to start the morning, so I thank you.
Photos? This post NEEDS photos!
Just to let you know. I used a redirector to post this story here.
Was Joe immobile because he’d poop-glued himself to his seat, or what?
Cost to replace an 18 volt multi-functional tool – $300
Cost to repair a slightly abused older Subaru – $1800
Cost to personally observe a critter crap his pants – priceless.
You can’t be serious! That’s something I don’t think Hollywood would even dream up. And that’s a pretty impressive deadlift for one man to pick up the engine side of a small car. Probably 600 pounds? What type of construction did those men do? I’m glad little Joe Gangbanger learned his lesson!
Precious.. Just precious!
Poor Joe.. he never realized that people who actually work for a living might be strong…
I agree with the anonymous commenter, though, this story needs a picture. I just gotta see the guy who picked up and held the front end of a car, even a Subaru.
I can remember a brother in law hoisting the back of my brothers car on his wedding day, and it was much bigger then the Justy.
The mental picture of this twirp sitting in his dismantled car is stronger then a picture could ever portray.
Hello LD! Please, please say that this story has some real history behind it?
Apart from the fact that I choked on my coffee & sprayed the keyboard while I was reading the story, I had tears of laughter in my eyes…. mind you, they may also have been tears of pain from the hot coffee nasal wash….
If I were Joe Critter, I would have poop-glued myself to the seat too. And confessed to every crime ever committed in that county.
Not that I would be in that position, of course, considering that I am NOT in the habit of ripping off other people. Particularly those on the more muscular side.
Duh!
*crickets chirping*
*sound of single marble rolling around*
Yep! That’s about all Joe has betwixt his ears from the sounds of it. *sigh*
The definition of job security. If they had any brains, we’d be out of a job.
There’s no guarantee that Joe (being, well, a critter) won’t steal again when he gets out of jail, but it’s probably a safe bet that he won’t steal from that construction company.
I hope the officer who tranported him to jail either had one of those washable bench seats in the back of his car, or was able to contain the poop-glue by putting Joe into trashbag pantaloons.
Yep, job security.
{Snickersnort}
scott,
picking up one of those little mobile road warts isn’t as difficult as you might think. some years ago me and several friends found a flatlander, (non-vermonter) stuck in a plow bank at the opening of a woods road, totally buried up to the doorsills of a volkswagen bug. when he asked if we would call a wrecker we didn’t reply, just picked up the car and walked it out of the snowbank back onto the paved road, and we weren’t big muscled construction stiffs, just six average country boys out hunting.
“gunner”
Good ‘un.
I had a little Suby wagon back in the mid-80’s and a college buddy who was a lineman for the U/A footbal team. We’d do things we shouldn’t have and go bouncing around the washes in that little wagon. Whenever I high-centered it on the under-body protector we would all get out, he would pick up one corner and push it and we would all get back in and continue on our way. A lot faster than a jack…
I do so love happy endings.
I am so glad I set down my beer before reading that.
Oooooohhhh Lord! I can’t stop laughing…. giggle… snort… BWAAHAAHAAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA
Not calling you a liar Mr. Lawdog, but i doubt that any self respecting Texan would use a face shield, from what I have seen in Texas most of them would just use cool sun glasses, and sorta look away. 😀
still very funny
I’m reading this post, and just cant get the old Bugs Bunny cartoon out of my head…the one with the huge snowman going, “and I will luv him, annn pet him, annnn call him George”
deouty polarbear
“I will love him and hug him and squeeze him…..
“I had a friend, a widdle friend, but he don’t move no more…”
LawMom
Hey lawdog, this is slightly unrelated but I wanted to bring it to your attention. Have you seen this video?
http://www.breitbart.tv/html/8973.html
Texans doing what Texans do best!
I got a warm fuzzy feeling when I saw it.
Couple of vehicle lifting incidents came to mind.
One of my shooting instructors(body builder physique) was in a (concrete block construction?) building when a runaway car plowed through the wall and pinned a coworker. He lifted the car off the worker. Tore up a lot of connective tissue in one side of his chest doing this.
Story #2
From the Readers Digest (late ’60s, I think) Humor in Uniform:
Four army guys in a jeep traveling a narrow track encounter an ambush. No room to turn around. They jump out, each grab a corner of the jeep, and proceed to lift it and turn it 180*. Then they beat a hasty retreat. When they got back to base and described the action, no one believed them. They attempted to repeat it, and found they could not lift the jeep.
Sorry, the original letter presented it as a more humorous story than I’m able to convey!
I lived in Texas — Houston area, Clear Lake City, to be exact — for two years about thirty years ago.
Reading these stories make homesick. Convertableized Subaru… *snort* Marvelous.
I’ve *got* to get out of Calipornia.