 |
| The North Hollywood Shootout |
Anyway, my phone was ringing ringing oh my god I ignored it as long as I possibly could, but I was living in this real shit hole in the Garden Green apartments. I mean christ it was like living inside of a dead nutria. My phone sat in the other room and the answering machine was off. But this fucker wouldn't let up. I mean the thing rang for what seemed like two years. Finally, FINALLY I shot out of bed. "YOU HAM-HANDED BITCH!" I remember shouting, empty forty bottles falling out of my covers and clanking all over the floor scaring the shit out of my pet wiener child. (Fuck what the hell was I doing with so many forty bottles in my bed anyhow.) Ring ring, the plastic bitch. I crashed into the glass coffee table knocking over this castle of pearl jam cds I'd stolen from some lil punk the day before. I answered the phone, calm and collected. "First, whomever this is, I want to be very clear, I am going to find you, rip off your tongue with my ass, jab my pinkies into your nostrils and pull your heart out with my dick. Now, that being said...WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT!??" The other end was silent for a moment, maybe a few seconds. Then a stumbling voice uttered, "Roy...erm, there's a situation. We're calling everyone in." Oh JESUS I thought. It's my god damned day off. (It wasn't my day off, but I planned on waking up and drinking all day so technically it was my day off.) I rubbed my forehead and was momentarily horrified to smell and then see a large clump of dog shit caked to my forefinger. "Yeah yeah okay what the hell is it?" "10-13 shots fired at Bank of America. We need you down there." "Fuck you." I hung up and waddled back to bed. The pile of shit immediately starts to ring again. "HOLY ANUS," I was inconsolable. I wrested the phone from it's cradle and screamed "OKAY YOU CREAMY RAT SHIT I'M ON MY WAY!" then slammed the phone back down so hard an end shattered.
Well, after a light meal of corn flakes and vodka (milk was curdled but I used it anyway) and several Irish car bombs, I stumbled out of my asshole and toward my car. I remember it was fuckin' hot outside. Sweaty and real nasty. I barfed outside the call box, a fountain of yellow foam. These little turds stopped playing shit ball to stare. I almost fell into them while yelling "THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT YOU LITTLE BROWN RATS?!" They scuttled away squealing in laughter. I fumbled around my pockets for my keys, produced a used condom, barfed again and fell into the driver's side door. Eventually, I found the keys shoved into the toe of my boot, but it wasn't until I decided to have a cool-down beer or seven at the local watering hole.
So I'm driving, I'm driving and eventually I start seeing signs for I-5 and I'm like god damnit because I realized I'd been driving the wrong way. I pulled a U turn and flipped on my overhead. Well the radio had been off so I flipped that on too, vomited all over the dashboard and belched a good four minute gas bomb. The radio was blaring a shit show. Unbelievable crap. Of course. Of course this shit is happening when all I want to be doing is jerking it in a park while staring at old women and their crotch rocket horses and consuming an ungodly amount of tequila. Ugh. Fuck me. Well I know where this bank is because I used to run an atm scam there. It was the only place I found that would allow you to deposit an empty envelope and claim there was like a thousand bones in there and then just complain and be mad when the bank says there was no cash in it. It worked for years.
Regardless, I pull the cruiser up onto a sidewalk near the grocery store and over this hydrant, topple the shit water fucker over and this geyser of water comes spraying up and through my hood. "MOTHER FUCKER!" I shout at the top of my lungs. I barely noticed the seven rounds that had pierced my windshield and shredded my passenger seat. I went to grab my Old E 24oz can sitting right fucking there and low and motherfucking hold there's a smoking hole in it and the can is empty. I saw red. Sure the beer had been there for at least 48 hours and was most likely syrup by then what with all the heat and everything, but still...there is soon to be one less cock sucking maggot in the world. I jerked violently from my cruiser to the sweltering pavement and drew my service pistol. At first I couldn't see shit. I just saw the glare from all the cars in the grocery store parking lot. Then I hear this POP POPPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOOOP!! and I turn and there's this goliath asshole in all black pumping an AK-47 at me. My cruiser is being turned to cottage cheese and I'm standing there like a retard. Well, of course, I barfed again because loud noises like that really don't help my hangovers. I raised my pistol and fired several rounds at this jaggaloon but they just bounce off of him. "YOU GUNK DICK!" I screamed at him, then ducked behind a nearby cement wall for cover.
There were other LAPDs there, lots of em. I sort of came to you know because I was pretty buzzed. I noticed helicopters and sirens all over the place. Great this is worse than I thought. Well I puked again, purposely, all over this injured cop. He was whimpering. I flipped him off and checked my remaining rounds. Shit, three. I knew I didn't have any more magazines because I'd been drunk driving last week with my uncle and we were shooting up parked cars for a few hours before dawn. POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP!! all around me, striking the wall, pinging off light-poles and signs. Some dinkle dick is yelling "THERE'S TWO SUSPECTS WE CAN'T DROP THEM WE CAN'T DROP THEM!!" I told the sniveling ass master to shut his shit and I back handed him. He started to cry. Well just then I was about to shove my horn into his gaping volcano when I noticed this firearm shop. "Holy mother of god" I said and ran over to it. I kicked in the front door, shattering glass all over myself and a bunch of it went into my crotch because my pants were undone.
Anyway, the store owner is there and he's screaming at me to get out so I gagged him with a clump of gargonzola I found in my pit and he passed out. I grabbed a bazooka from off of the wall and headed back out to the shit circus. I see the doofus twins circling one another, just pedal to the medal. What assholes I thought. They were just holding their triggers down spraying every which way. "YOU PANSY COCK LOVERS!" I screamed and zeroed in on the ass loves. I fired. The rocket went awry, way way up and then crashed into a parked car about 400 yards to my left. GOD DAMNIT. The vehicle exploded with an earth shaking BOOM and a mini mushroom cloud of smoldering car and ash went into the air. I threw up again and lit a cigarette. The two crooks stopped firing for a minute, hell everyone stopped firing for a minute. There was this weird silence as everyone gawked at the explosion. I bellowed "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STARING AT?!" and stormed back into the gun store. There was an AR-15 on the wall. Fuck it. So I pulled that bitch down and came out of that shop hollering and firing away at the goons. BAMABABBABAMBAMABMABAM I don't remember how many times I fired. I know I was hitting these fuckers cuz I could see bits of flame and smoke zing and smolder across their silhouettes.
Well they separated, run away like little mice. I ducked behind an ice cream shop to yank on the crank wagon for a spell because all the excitement got me boontown ready if you know what I'm saying. By the time I come, I'm pretty sure it's all over. One of the gorillas is dead and another one is in custody. I walk over to the live one, piss on his head and tell him it's the worst hang over I've ever had. He told me to fuck myself so I pulled this hot mama from my pants and shoved it into his hole. He cried. I told the other officers to fuck THEMselves and went to look for my car. Well the piece of shit was shot to shit. I bused it home, bought an 18 pack of tecate, drank it in my shower and passed out near the toilet after vomiting.
I was awarded the Los Angeles Police Department Medal of Merit two days later.