it hadn’t always been like this, the dim witted borderline imbeciles driving around trying to be cool with their car stereos blaring at ungodly levels. as a matter of fact, the whole damn thing just more or less snuck up on the saner of the population. oh sure, back in the late 80′s early 90′s, some cities passed ordinances concerning loud car stereos and such. those ordinances got buried in the crime wave of drugs and the general stupidity of the general population causing local cops more trouble and work than they had cops on patrol. plus, even the dull and stupid have to work at some point in their dull and stupid lives doing dull and stupid work. so, the ear shattering rancid music wasn’t particularly bad during the work week. at times, it could be but for the most part it was on the weekends when the dull and stupid got even duller and stupider. the spring and summer months meant weekends full of bad music played at levels that could probably be heard on mars.
the next evening the 3 nam vets met again for the second night of the season of patio drinking and chatting. they had been doing it for so long they had forgotten just how the whole deal had begun. it didn’t matter, as it was really just time to get away from their wives or girlfriends. a time for some booze and no female asking them dull insipid questions like why they needed to drink every day with their weird and or loser friends. among other things. ah, yes, like most men they had bid farewell to the simple life long ago. the evening, being a monday, and of course, a work week night meant for a relatively peaceful evening for outside sitting and sipping. the peace and quiet was only broken at odd intervals by the ear shattering so called music.
‘you know, i don’t think i’m going to make it.’
‘make what? are you sick or something?’
‘no, nothing like that. i mean, i don’t think i’m going to make it through another summer of this blaring car stereo shit.’
the other two friends gave each other a look. the other friend continued.
‘you know it could be done.’
‘the man is talking in riddles this evening. now what?’
‘killing the dumb ass kids as they drive down the street.’
‘man, you are crazy. there’s no way you are gonna get away with that action. it’s just plain crazy.’
‘i don’t like it any better than you do but he’s right, ain’t no way. none of us do, but man, that’s just crazy.’
‘i don’t think so. i think it could be pulled off. actually fairly simple. you want to hear about it or not?’
the idea made the other two men uncomfortable but they decided to listen to their friend’s crazy idea. they had nothing better to do and it was a nice warm spring time evening with plenty of wine and cold beer.
‘alright. go ahead.’
‘ok. the really annoying shit goes down on weekends late in the evening or early morning when the really stupid crazy ones are out being annoying and probably stoned, drunk, or both.’
he noticed he had their attention so he continued. ‘there isn’t much traffic on the road other than them. you can hear them coming from blocks away. now remember, they have the windows down. we could use a simple…’
‘now hold on, sport. what’s this we shit? don’t be dragging us into your murder one conviction.’
‘you gonna listen or what? just hear me out.’
‘shit. go ahead.’
‘thank you. we take a page from the viet cong tax collectors. we just step out on to the road and stop them. instead of demanding tax money, we cap them with two behind the ear or where ever. see, we have several things in our favor. night time, rolled down windows, and the loud music to cover the gun shots. which wouldn’t be that loud anyways. a .22 auto loaded with shorts. pretty quiet even without the help of the music.’
the other two friends sat there in a stunned silence. they realized he wasn’t kidding and had seemingly thought things out enough to the point, where he knew he would need their help if he wanted to carry out his insane plan. one of them spoke.
‘yeah, ok. it might be night but what about the street lights?’
‘we shoot a couple of them out. it takes edison weeks to replace a broken street light. if they ever do.’
‘you really think some stoned out drunken asshole kid is gonna stop just cause you jump out in front of him?’
‘sure with a few props. they need to see you in the dark so some sorta light colored clothing needs to be worn, and most importantly, you’re carrying a six pack of beer. they think you’re just some old drunken vato and at the least they slow way down or stop in hopes of snagging a brew off your drunk ass. the .22 auto is in your hand but out of sight. they aren’t gonna see it anyway. they’ll be looking at the beer. they stop. you walk up to the window. the music is still blaring. you stick the gun in the car and pop pop. it would be over before they knew what hit them.’
more stunned silence. ‘alright. what happens if there’s a car load of the fucks?’
‘plenty of ammo in the clip to pop them all. they will be too stunned to manage much of any kind of response if you hammer down fast enough…no real problem.’
‘man. you are talking about cold blooded murder.’
‘yeah. i guess so. i don’t care anymore. things are just too out of control. the stupid breed like rabbits and then don’t even bother to half ass take care of their kids or teach them anything half ass useful. it’s every man for himself. the fuckers don’t care about anything. you’ve seen them out at the mailbox. they open it it up and just toss the junk mail out into the street for the wind to take away. they think it doesn’t matter or they’re just to important or stupid to be bothered with throwing away trash properly. they’re oblivious to any normal human decency when they’re out in public. you go to a store, you better give them a wide berth or you’re asking for trouble. especially if they’re fucked up, which is pretty much all the time. yeah, i know we got fucked up too. but we didn’t try to get into a fight just because someone wandered by and we didn’t like the looks of them. i’m sick of these fuckers and it’s time to deal with them.’
the second night of the patio drinking and chatting season had come to an abrupt end.