Poser story from the gun store

[Ndog275]

This totally made up story has parts of a lot of people I have waited on. These guys usually come in the store with some new guy who wants to buy his first handgun and needs some help. The Rambo type obviously knows more than anyone else in the store as he has read ALL the magazine articles. What is worse is when they don't come in with one of their own buddies, but jump into the middle of a conversation you are having with some poor defenseless woman who is looking for her first gun. Makes you want to taser them right on the spot.

Anyhow, hope you enjoy it.
Marc in the dark

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 somet hing 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 ass, 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 interrupted 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 Ba yonet on the seat, honed to a razor's edge. I could handle it though. Half of my ass 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 ass. 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 ass 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.

[AntonA2W]

Thats truly beautiful... I can tell that guy's " been there, done that" cuz of all the acute details he readily ejects. Some times people talk to me, and you as well, and spurt shit out their mouths and all I can do is sit and watch their mouth move in astonishment. Its almost like i enjoy it, just to hear the BS outta their mouths next....... Fuckin AMAZING

[EvilCouch]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

[T0000009]

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.

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

So

Uhhh


What time were you a 7-11, cause I think I saw you get drug up the hill??

[RangerX]

[HiredGoon10]

:D :D :D

Rangers, here's another one. Not quite as good as Ranger Ndog275's but same idea...

2000 Hours: I depart my domicile in order to acquire beverages and snack foods for the evening, and also to possibly rent a DVD. On my belt I have my usually carry gear; my Glock 17 9mm, with 3.5# trigger, mounted light/laser combo, and a full magazine with a +2 extension. I keep an extra round in the chamber, giving me 20 rounds total. I also carry four extra 19 round magazines on my belt. Besides my pistol, I have a Surefire tactical flashlight/impact device, tactical OC spray, a collapsing tactical baton, and my $300 Benchmade folding tactical pocket knife. I carry two 30 round AR-15 magazines in Kydex pouches as well, for my tactical carbine. In a small holster on my ankle I carry a Glock 26, fully loaded with 11 more rounds. My tactical ensemble is topped off by a sturdy pair of black cordura suspenders, and is the envy of the others at my range. I was also wearing my level IIIA concealed body armor with Level IV ceramic rifle plates in front and back. I could take a .308 round in the back if I wanted to!

Anyway, I left my domicile, stealthily, practicing the art of not being seen. I get in my vehicle (a black SUV) and proceed to my desitination. I press-check my Glock 17 before getting in my vehicle, ensuring that a round is chambered.

So far, so good, but my guts tell me that it's going to be a rough night.

2045 Hours: I arrive at the 24hr Grocery, five clicks from my domicile. I was 45 minutes in transit as I never directly drive anywhere. I make turns, use side roads, and double back repeatedly in case any BGs get the idea to follow me. I park in the lot, and carefully examine the area around my vechile before getting out.

"Hmmm..." I thought. "Little old lady on the corner. Perfectly innocent looking. A little too innocent if you ask me. Could be a trap. I'll have to watch her. And what's this? A girl jogging. How convenient. Undoubetedly a scout for a gang or cult." Seeing these obvious threats, I imediately go into Condition Orange. I'm ready for anything. I press check my Glock 17, making sure it's still loaded, and unbuckle my seatbelt.

Cautiously, I step out of my vehicle, and proceed into the store. I make note of all the exits, and make sure I appear alert, stong, and able-bodied, in case the girl at the register wants to try anything. That gum-chewing and magazine-reading doesn't full me, I can tell she's up to something.

2115 Hours: Purchasing my goods took me longer than I expected. Several "customers" entered the store, but they looked suspicious. Anybody can rent Nun outfits, and they could've easily been vicious bandits (don't let age fool you; a 60 year old, 5'3" woman can kill you just as dead!) I did a tactical shoulder roll and hid behind a display of tampons until they left.

Anyway, having secured my sodas, chips, jerky, Playboy magazines, and having rented a copy of The Little Mermaid, I exited the store and headed for my vehicle. I was extemely vigilant as I crossed the parking lot, and it paid off. Here, my friends, is where the S hit the F.

2116 Hours: There I am, in the paking lot of the 24 Hour Grocery, paper back full of food, drinks, adult magazines, and Disney DVDs in hand, and the first of the BGs appears. He leaps from behind a purple PT cruiser, pistol in hand, firing wildly. I drop my groceries and dive to the side; my Glock 17 is out before I hit the asphalt. I do another tatical shoulder roll as I land, and low crawl around the PT Cruiser. I pop up from behind the vehicle and do a Mozambique Drill on the BG, dropping him like a ton of bricks.

Before I can reholster my pistol, the BG's friends appear. They come running from around the corner, weapons in hand, ready to kill me. I laughed to myself; they didn't know who they were messing with!

I knew that I'd need more firepower, but I had to get to my SUV first. I prioritized the threats as they came around the corner; I did a Mozambique Drill on one of the BGs that was carrying an AK rifle, and lunged towards my SUV.

Unlocking the back hatch, I acquired my AR-15 urban tactical carbine. It's a Bushmaster flattop M4-Gery, with RIS rail systems. I have a Trijicon Reflex dot sight mounted, and an ACOG in a pouch that's readiliy accesible. Also mounted is a laser aiming device, a Surefire weaponlight, and an infra-red aiming laser for use with my Night Vision Goggles (fortunately, it's not that dark out). I also grab a badonlier that I keep with the rifle, which holds six more 30 round magazines, and hit the pavement, ready to fight.

The badguys had slowed and spread out, weaving through the full parking lot like Viet Cong Guerillas weaving through the tall grass, searching for me. I have the advantage, though. I pop up from behind a candy apple red El Camino and put a round into the nearest BG; the round explosively fragments in his chest cavity, killing him instantly, but doesn't overpenetrate, so as not to endager bystanders. I duck back down and low-crawl through the parking lot.

After I shot the first BG, the others returned fire. But fortunately, their AK rifles were so wildly crude an inaccurate that they didn't have a chance of hitting me at that distance; they should've been using ARs!

I popped up a second time to drop the next badguy, but through a stroke of luck he was quick on the draw; He fired a shot from his revolver, but I dove to the side before he could get a bead on me. The shot struck the lime green Hearse behind me. I waited for him to fire in my direction five more times. Once he was out of ammo, I knew I had him, as revolvers are obsolete and take five minutes to reload. I popped up and shot him in the upper chest. The 5.56mm round again explosively fragmented, with fragments exiting out of the top of his head and the soles of his feet, killing him instantaneously! Fool should've gotten himself a Glock. Revolvers are for hunting and cowboy shooting!

I low cralwed to my next position in the parking lot, to where I was hiding behind a beige station wagon with a vulgar bumper sticker. I popped up one more time, but to my horror I found that the BG was using the little old lady as a human shield!

I could've easily made a headshot, but I didn't want to risk it. I held my rifle on the BG, and waited. It was a tense moment, but I knew he'd lose his nerve. He turned to run, wheeling the old lady around with him. I shot him in the back, and because of my 5.56mm bullet's explosive fragmentation, there was no risk whatsoever of the bullet overpenetrating and hitting the little old lady. She was fine and he was dead. Fortunate indeed that I made that shot with an AR instead of a pistol, as an AR penetrates less than a pistol!

Then the last BG appeared. He stepped from behind a parked delivery van, wearing a kevlar helmet, flak jacket, and sporting an M60 machine gun! I dove to the side and did another tactical shoulder roll as he oppened up on me. The 7.62mm rounds tore up all of the vehicles in the lot, easily overpenetrating everything they hit. Fortunately for me, the M60 and its 7.62mm ammunition are so unGodly heavy that he could barely move, and I had the manuverability advantage.

I low-crawled through the parking lot, until I was in a good spot. I waited for him to change belts, and popped up one more time. I shot him square in the chest. The powerful 5.56mm bullet easily slid through his flak jacket and explosively fragmented inside his body! He was dead before he hit the ground! It was fortunate that I used my AR to make that shot, as it offers more penetration than my Glock could have. An AR can penetrate a kevlar helmet at 1100 meters you know!

The last BG was dead, and the area was clear. I safetied my AR and let it hang on its tac-sling. I headed back to my SUV, and picked up my spilled groceries. Having put the AR and my bandolier back in its case, I press-checked my Glock 17 and headed home for an evening of beer, pornography, potato chips, and the Magical World of Disney!

[Rico]

Ndog, no shit I just spit up Killians all over the fucking keyboard. Luckily however, this is not my keyboard, it's attached to a laptop that's not mine either. I'm actually writing this post from the computer upstairs.

My roomate is gonna be pissed........

Thanks Brotha...

[El Dave]

Heh, these posts realistically embody the stereotype of many people I have seen on gun forums on the internet. Luckily these people don't seem to frequent the local range all that much.

[hobbit]

We used to call those wannabes "Fantasy Islanders".

I met a for real RVN Ranger at a gun show in Eureka, CA a few years back who sold dummy ordnance. He had a few boxes of grenades on his table. I picked one up and rolled it around in my hand, then asked him anecdotally, "Do you know how long it's been since I wrapped my fist around one of these little beauties?" He looked at me with a big grin and said, "Too long, brother. Waaaayyyy too long." :D

[SkyShark]

The 7.62mm rounds tore up all of the vehicles in the lot, easily overpenetrating everything they hit. Fortunately for me, the M60 and its 7.62mm ammunition are so unGodly heavy that he could barely move, and I had the manuverability advantage.