Now what are ya yammerin’ about? Yeah, I wuz big in Lexington afore I ever got to Paragon City. Not as big as I am here, but I din’t need to be there. It’s a big city but nearly as big as it is here. It didn’t take nearly as much to gain a reputation there as it does here. Oh, you aren’t gonna let it go until I tell ya’ how I got from the holler to here, are ya?
I left the holler with Betsy, about four boxes of shells and enough venison jerky to last me for awhile. I also took a big chunk out of the old till. I wuz the only one Paw had ever showed it to. Even Mamaw didn’t know where it wuz. I gave her plenty to keep the electric on so she could get her soaps and ball games for as long as she wanted. I took the rest with me. I was gonna need to buy a lot more shotgun shells afore I wuz through.
I got into Lexington and set up shop. I had gotten real handy at fixin’ things and perfectin’ guns. I bought a store front and it didn’t take long to get a decent business set up. I even had to hire a local guy named Pat to run the shop and set up at the gun shows for me when I had other matters to attend to.
I didn’t take well to city life. The store wuz doin’ fine, and I wuz makin’ even more money than when Paw and I wuz runnin’ the “Juice.” Business in Lexington wuz always good for huntin’ supplies with all the businessmen gettin’ back to nature on the weekends. The recent rise of crime, thanks to that same splinter from the Paragon Troll Gang that had started this whole mess in the first place, had built up the home protection business as well. I wuz workin’ so hard I had lost the thrill of the hunt and didn’t even know it.
I wuz in the back of the store workin’ on a new .22 semi-auto rifle that some suit was buyin’ to take his boy huntin’ with that weekend. I had to realign the sight on the scope since the boy wuz very nearsighted. The boy’s dad had heard I wuz the best and knew I could make the rifle perfect for him. He wuz right a’course but somethin’ happened right then and there.
Some punks walked right into my store. Punks wearin’ the same colors of the guys that killed my Maw and left me for dead waltzed right into my shop and told Pat to give them all the money and all the guns.
What kind of fool tries to rob the biggest gun store in Lexington?
Pat started to hand the guy the money when a cop car comes wailing up the street. The punks started goin’ into a panic.
“You set off some alarm? I’ll kill you, man.”
Pat heard me pump some shells into “Betsy” and ducked instinctively. I like to think the punk saw me afore I opened up with a slug to his chest. I flicked the switch just over the trigger and quickly let the buckshot fly. The punks were down in a matter of moments.
I remembered the thrill. I knew then what I had been made to do. Mamaw wuz right. I had a gift, and I needed to use it.
I spent the next few weeks makin’ some minor changes to “Besty.” I fixed up a batch of Sticky Grenades and got myself a real nice huntin’ vest. I wore an orange vest over the camo. I figured I’d better make it fair for the punks I wuz about to take out. Besides, I didn’t want no hunter or civilian takin’ pot shots at me.
It didn’t take long to figure out where the gang was holed up. A few thumbtacks on a map of the city markin places where I’d busted up a few muggings and a few robberies, and I saw exactly where they were. Just like a bear huntin’ outside his cave. He don’t want to stray too far from his bed unless he has ta.
The warehouse right off I-75 in Bracktown looked abandoned on the outside. I saw the few guys with the AK-47s in the makeshift look-out post on the rooftop, and I knew I had come to the right place. One of the punks I had busted a few nights earlier had told me that some big business wuz goin’ down tonight with some Trolls from Paragon. There wuz gonna be a big “Dyne” deal.
The cops had better things to do than die. I knew I had to be the one to do this. I wuz gettin’ ready to take out the guards when I saw HIM.
It wuz that same punk that shot Maw. He wuz all in a nice suit and wuz waltzin’ in with another sharp dressed man. So Punk-boy makes good, wuz all I could think. Good for him. That’ll make this all the sweeter.
Two silenced shots from “Betsy” later, and I wuz on the roof. I listened in as they laid out the plans to bring a regular supply of Troll “Superdyne” to Lexington. They were gonna bring it in in big rigs, and they’d have enough supply to Troll-out every gang-banger, hippy and druggie in Lexington. They’d have an army of super-soldiers within a year to “own the city.” The Outcasts had been tryin’ to move in and the local branch of The Family wouldn’t know what hit ’em. Not to mention the cops and the regular folks.
I knew I could take most of ’em. I figured at this point by the time the cops showed all they’d have is to mop up anyway, so I dialed 911 on my blank cell phone and dropped it on the roof. They’d trace it in a few minutes and be here in about 15 minutes. Plenty of time for me to take out the punks and gain my vengeance.
I started off with a couple of tear gas bombs into the crowd. Then a quick repel into the crowd, and I opened up with a burst from “Betsy’s” latest modification. The Punks didn’t even know who to shoot at. They wuz killin’ each other and openin’ up on every shadow between their coughin’ and cryin’. I selected my targets carefully and fired from behind other punks to keep them confused. I wuz off by a few minutes, but I had most of them wounded, maimed, out-cold, or plain dead by the time I heard the cops comin’ off the exit ramp.
It was all turnin’ out nicely, when HE figured out who I wuz.
“You’ve ruined my chance at the big show, Hillbilly.” He shouted at me as he popped a “Dyne” shot into his chest. “Now I’m gonna make sure you die.”
I knew it took a lot of “Dyne” to turn ya into a true Troll. He must’ve loaded himself with enough to turn an elephant with a flu into a T-Rex. He grew about a foot in height and got more muscles than Jesse Ventura in a matter of minutes. I opened up with everything “Betsy” had in her.
I think you can guess what happened. I’m here. He’s not. The cops covered up the whole mess and took the “Dyne” shippers by surprise when they hauled it right into their hands. I got a strong verbal warning from the police chief about bein’ a vigilante. However, the DEA dropped all the charges against me, seein’ as how I stopped Lexington from becomin’ Troll central.
Anyway, word got out about the gang war in Lexington. Word got out about some strange gunman fightin’ crime in alleys and stoppin’ robberies. That’s when MAG showed up. Mother’s Against Guns started spoutin’ that if we all didn’t have guns, none of this would have happened. Nobody would be hurtin’ each other. We’d all live nice.
Well you know how that turned out…
… You don’t?
Well maybe next time.
Published: Sep 17, 2007 07:48 pm