Gitmo 46: Immovable Object

I’d had the hell kicked out of me. I was barely on my feet. I needed to get to the radios, to call in reinforcements so someone could look for my deputy.

I didn’t expect to find him sitting in my chair in the office, with a shotgun across his lap and his lips pressed into a radio.

“Orange cat, this is blue fox, you can disregard. The dog just scampered back home.”

“So he isn’t hurt?”

“Nope. Just shirtless and sweaty. Looks like he took on the entire town. Hope he used a fistful of lube.”

“And protection,” Orange cat snickered.

I fell onto my bed. “Where the fuck were you when all this started?”

“I was taking a shit.”

“Not in the toilet?”

“I backed it up. It was already a quarter inch to overflowing, and I wasn’t about to get shit all up in my jeans and my boots just because that lazy towelhead don’t make late-night housecalls. And I remember you saying you’d pepper spray my asshole of I used your toilet again”

“I said if you clogged my toilet again.”

“You know those two’re one and the same. Anyway, that’s why I was shitting in a hole.”

“That explains the first part. But the second; what happened here?”

“Well, my hole wasn’t deep enough for the whole turd, so I had to do that waddle thing, again, so I didn’t get shit on my jeans. And I’m just pinching off the tail end of it, when I hear commotion, big old clang, then lots of hushed little voices. So I sneak towards the noise, wadding up TP and wiping as I scurry along. I see them carrying you to Hamdi’s, and a couple of them talk about making for the armory. I figure I’m clean as I’m getting, and pull up my britches and hurry on back to the office.”

“They’re close enough behind me that I just get the door closed when it smacks me in the backside. I back up against it, and several of them push, knowing if I don’t get it all the way closed I can’t bolt it. So we must of tug-of-warred the door for an hour before I got an advantage and locked it. Then I strolled over to the gunsafe and picked out the biggest shotty in there. I opened the door back up, and most of them dumb sandniggers are still standing around with each others cocks in their hands. So I rounded them up and put em in the cell.”

“I tried to interrogate them, get a sense to the situation, before I called into Gates for assistance, or before I decided to storm them, but they told me all kinds of shit, like you’d gone there loaded up for camel with four guns, and fuck that- four on one ain’t odds I liked.”

“But just as I was about to call in for reinforcements, power goes down. I give up, for the moment, figure I’ll have to wait for day to try and make for the truck, get to Gates that way. So I took a rest in your bed, fitful-like, real sweaty. Then I got woke up by an even bigger shit than the one sent me outside. And I figured, the way things were, it ain’t safe to be shitting in holes. So I borrowed your shitter- which is clogged, by the way. So, by then, I was shit tired and tired from shitting. Just as I was reaching for the TP, I realized we still had all the hand radios you could ever ask for, all with batteries for just such an occasion.”

“And I was just conversating with orange cat when you strolled yourself through that door.”

“Well, much as it pains me, we need to go arrest Hamdi and Mustafa, so, Annie, get your gun. And get me, one too.”