Old Men

Old Men

By:  Garland Davis


DeWayne Johnson AKA Achmed XX Ali pulled the raincoat around him as he approached the entrance to the VFW.  He was ready to strike a blow for Allah and Islam against the infidels who had desecrated the homeland.  DeWayne was from Detroit, but the Mullahs had told him that since he became a Muslim, his true home was in the Middle East.

The plan was to step inside the door, raise the shotgun from under the raincoat and fire the five rounds of buckshot into the room and then use the Glock and the forty-five Colt to kill as many more as possible before making his escape.

He cut in front of an old man walking with a gnarled wooden cane and went through the door.  Coming into the darkened chamber from the bright sunlight, he was momentarily blinded.  He could see some vague shapes across the room at a bar.  He bared the shotgun, yelled, “Allah Akbar.” and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened!  As he fumbled to release the safety, something hard slammed into the right side of his head knocking him to the left.  It slammed again into his right elbow.  He felt the bone break as he screamed dropping the shotgun.  Whatever had hit him came against his head once again.  Suddenly he felt hands grabbing him.  Voices were yelling, “Gun, the mother fuckers got guns.”  There was an arm shoved against his neck as a heavy weight settled on his chest.

“Hold him, Heavy.  I called 911.  The cops are on the way.”

“Hey, he has more weapons in the pockets.  This fucker was going to kill us,”

“Hold him down Heavy, while I search him for more guns.”

DeWayne realized that the old man with the cane had hit him with it when he bared the shotgun.  The fat old man sitting on his chest with the arm against his throat was killing him.  He couldn’t breathe.  He no longer wanted to be Achmed XX Ali or a Muslim.  He just wanted to be DeWayne from Detroit.  He wanted to tell the fat man that, but he couldn’t breathe.

“Hey Heavy, you’re choking him.  Save something for the police.”

“Fuck the cops, the courts will just turn him loose.”

The last thought DeWayne had was, “Mama.”

Don’t fuck with old men when they are drinking beer!