The Tactical Guy Funny

[rpknaz]

I thought you guys might enjoy this, got it from another forum.



The Tactical Guy

As I was leaving my house, I stuffed my Glock 10mm "man gun" Mexican style in my pants. My backup is a fully customized 1911 with all the IPSC add-on options in my $500.00 leather pancake holster custom made by Belgian Monks who have devoted their lives to silence and holster making. These are the ones used by SEAL Team 6, which I used to be a part of, but all records of my activities were destroyed in a fire "accident".

I put on my Royal Robbins photographer vest to match my pants while wearing a T-shirt underneath reading "From My Cold Dead Hands". That way, nobody can see what I'm packing.

I had my Centennial .38 Special in my ankle holster, just like the gun rag guys carry.

Lastly, I had my "Covert Sniper" I.D. Card in my wallet with my "Concealed Weapons Permit Badge". I was ready for anything.

I drove my Bug Out Truck to the 7-11 for some beer, 'cause you never know. It is a performance styled Subaru BRAT with 4 cylinders of ground pounding fury.

I pulled up to the 7-11 store and noticed a nefarious looking Girl Scout eyeballing me from the back of her mothers' SUV. A likely cover.

The mother returned to the truck and went for the keys in her purse, but I knew from my years of combat honed instincts that she was actually making a furtive movement for an offensive weapon.

I attempted a tactical shoulder roll, but fell flat on my face, kind of flopping on the pavement to avoid any incoming rounds and to make it look like I meant to do that. The store owner called 911, which is good because I then did a roll and attempted to draw my Glock.

Unfortunately, since I did not have a holster, the gun "went off", and the bullet creased my wiener.
But I was prepared for that and bit down on a 9mm casing to take my mind off the pain as I dove for the garbage barrel.
That's when I noticed the Girl Scout shouting something to her mother who began to take cover. I knew they were closing on me so I drew my custom trusty 1911 Wilson Combat...I knew that they would be impressed with that. I then duck walked to the front of her SUV, but my gut kinda got in the way and I fell on my butt, which caused me to swallow my 9mm casing.

I then tried to roll to my right, but didn't want to scuff my holster, so I just threw myself into the telephone pole, but I landed on my right side anyway. So I fired one shot towards the woman's SUV to pin them down as I recovered my wind.

And before the mother knew what was happening, I charged her and I threw my groin into her knee. I knew that as I vomited on the ground in front of her that I had interupted her OODA loop. I had the advantage now. As she ran screaming for the Girl Scout, (I knew she was going for backup) I made for my Super Charged BRAT Tactical truck. I jumped into the drivers seat forgetting that I had left my rare Israeli contract AR 15 Bayonet on the seat, honed to a razor's edge. I could handle it though. Half of my butt is an implant from war wounds.

As I attempted to start my truck, police and paramedics arrived on the scene. My truck would not start and instead backfired once and caused the police to Tase me. At which point I tactically soiled myself while in convulsions. My custom 1911 then fell out the window, but I still had my Centennial .38. I knew that I had to take out the woman with the purse.

So I aimed my revolver at her at which point the first police officer fired once striking me in the chest. Fortunately, I was wearing my level 3A body armor. I didn't want to hurt the cops--they had obviously been duped by the evil temptress who was now embracing her partner in crime and crying to the police in the background. I knew it was a ruse.

I pulled out my concealed weapons permit badge and showed it to the officer who shot me and yelled out, "I'm one of you guys!" He continued to cover me and ordered me to drop my .38 so I laid it down. I still had my bayonet after all, attached to my butt. The cop walked toward me and upon reading the badge, maced me right in the eyes. Fortunately, my Oakley shooting glasses stopped most of the spray and I was able to rip free of the Taser cords easily. It only cost me one nipple, easily replaced. I dove for the passenger side of my truck and began to run zig-zag for a ditch. Unfortunately, the bayonet sticking out of my butt slowed me down. I knew it would have to be hand-to-hand now. I knew the cop coudn't take me when I saw he merely carried a Glock 17, not a man's gun. So I immediately threw my eye into his right hook, followed by a knee into his Mag light. As I lay thrashing on the ground, I took the heel of my Bates Enforcer boot and kicked at the cops ankle. I knew from my classified experiences in Tajikistan that once breaking the ankle, the cop would fall down and I could "stun kick" him in the head, knocking him out but not hurting him.

Apparently the cop had also been to Tajikistan because he side stepped me and struck me in the back with his ASP baton, but my trauma plate absorbed it. I then drew my Benchmade auto knife and was promptly tased again, but I was ready for it this time and only wet myself a little bit.

Next thing those cops knew, I was unconscious. That'll teach 'em.

[Racr350]

HAHAHA!!! Thats awesome..."I pulled up to the 7-11 store and noticed a nefarious looking Girl Scout eyeballing me from the back of her mothers' SUV. A likely cover."

[Rick in Oregon]

I'm still laughing! THAT was well written, obviously from a man who really knows his tactacal training! He obviously just read the "How to Survive a Gunfight" here on the forum.

[rpknaz]

And before the mother knew what was happening, I charged her and I threw my groin into her knee.

That is my favorite part.

[WaltherP99]

That's GREAT!

I really want to print it out and take it to work with me tomorrow! The guy's at work would get a kick out of that considering we work with a guy who sounds JUST LIKE THAT!

[glenn asher]

Those mall ninjas are tough cookies, beware the mall ninja!

[WaltherP99]

[Glen]

roknaz-- I hope you don't mind but I stole your story & posted it on another website. Here's the reply I got from one of those members.

Just got out of lockup I was ready for it tho being trained in CIA tactic's I only gave them my rank and serial number. When I got to the court room the woman and little girl was there. I could tell by the way the judge was looking at me and them he had been brain washed and was now on there side.

I done a dive for the Judge but being trained for combat I knew a frontal approach would not be the right approach. So I pretended to stumble on the chair in front of me and jumped face first into the bench. I through off my true intentions by laying there long enough for two cops to jump onto my back. I did this to protect my ribs. I had let a fellow inmate break my ribs while in lockup so I could go to the hospital to gain more info on the layout of the jail.

While laying there I let one of the officers pull my arm back and dislocate it so I could be more flexible for later tactical moves.

Laying there most men would have sucom to the pain. I was trained to feel no pain after spending time in a Thailand cat house. The pain I had to overcome after each visit there for weeks on end made a few ribs and a dislocated arm seems like nothing. Once I started hitting my face into the floor I could feel them slowing easing up.

I took this opportunity to scream “bomb” he’s got a bomb. Once this happened the court room filled with screams. Knowing the police would react to help save the public citizens it would be my perfect escape. This is one of the differences in my training and the police training. In my training we did not worry about collateral damage.
Once they eased up It was easy for me to getup. My belly helps hold me up off the floor and having jumped out of helicopters on many occasions during my training it has made my legs tactically shorter. So the distance I had to get up was much closer than the average untrained man.

Once I got to my feet I could tell that while I was on the floor the judge and the girl scout must have gotten to the crowd for now they were all after me. Once again I was pepper sprayed but I seen it coming so I closed my mouth purposely took the brunt of it in the eyes. Knowing the last thing I needed was to be distracted by hot peppers in my mouth. No need to feel hunger at a time like this. I then made a dash for the side door once through the door I was in a small room with only a window.

I knew then I had them right where I wanted them. I leaned to look out the window which had bars on it. Then the door busted open as a mob pushed against me. I was being push through the bars and my dislocated shoulder easily let me slide through. Unfortunately for them I was stopped at the mid section and could not go any farther. Yep they were horrified when they realized I was not going through the window. Their eyes where squinted and they were chanting something. I don’t know what they were chanting because in my training we were taught to shut out all distractions. They were packed in that room so tight and had nowhere to go.
I knew it was time for my next move….

[rpknaz]

roknaz-- I hope you don't mind but I stole your story & posted it on another website. Here's the reply I got from one of those members.

Glen - No problem, I did the same for you guys. I think both stories are great. Come to think of it, these stories reminds me of the security guard at my taco bell.

[glenn asher]

When I was in High School, the local McDonalds had one of those types, we called him "Shoot-to-kill Bill". One of my classmates worked there, and she, and some others, spiked his Coke one night with vodka, no more Bill harassing the HS kids. Made the place a lot more tolerable.

[Rick in Oregon]

Glenn: Almost the same story for me when I was in high school. The local burger joint hired a rent-a-cop because of all us "evil cruisers" in our hot Chevy's and Ford street racers, and he bore all the same traits as our hero above. We called him "Barney" for Barney Fife in the Andy Griffith Show, the one bullet in his shirt pocket guy. Once this clown found out we called him that, the dirty looks never stopped, and all the while we just laughed at him. Poor guy, he quit after one summer....wonder what ever happened to him? Maybe he ended up in the story posted at the top of this thread?

[glenn asher]

I was driving my Seafoam Green '60 Chevy Pickup, short bed Fleetside, with oak bed, old Bill didn't like my truck, I guess. He had personality issues of some sort It couldn't be the truck, it had 3 on the tree, 235CID 6cylinder, it had a good muffler, and those chrome babymoon hubcaps that looked pretty good, all things considered. It wasn't noisy, and I was a good kid who didn't cause trouble. Heck, that old truck couldn't get out of it's own way, let alone go rumpety-rumpety It musta just been Bill...........

Dang, that brings back memories! We had a lot of fun in high school. I almost miss that old truck, too. It had character, something my new truck just doesn't seem to have, at least, not yet. Probably because everything on/in it, works. That old truck was on it's last legs.

[Rick in Oregon]

Well, I most likely got all I deserved from 'ole Barney. My ride was my cherry '67 Malibu SS with a balanced/blueprinted 327, close ratio Muncie 4-speed with Hurst shifter, 4:56 posi, Hooker fenderwell exit headers, Isky solid-lifter radical cam, 12:1 pistons, Edelbrock tunnel ram w/two Holly's, yadda, yadda..... it would literally lift the front wheels off the ground when I punched it, turned in the 12's in the quarter, and so with me being young, dumb and fulla......well, you get the idea. So when me and my like-minded friends would uncap our headers to cruise "the strip", Barney just about lost it every time we arrived at Quarter Pounder.

Putting myself in his shoes now, I'd have been hard pressed NOT to dig into my shirt pocket and chamber that ONE .38 round Andy had given me!