From the mind of Clif High
A conversation to be soon overheard in the great pacific northwest of the continental “these united states” in north america. The conversation will take place between representatives of officialdom, sub set, ‘department of homeland supression’, and a local northwestern archetype, the ‘woods man’. There are a lot of them around here so we cannot be specific as to which expression of the archetype will actually be involved in the incident, but we are certain it will occur.
The cause of the conversation is the (soon to be in the future) recent downing of a ‘national suppresion predator drone’ on its ‘officially designated patrol’. Apparently, as the agents of the DHS are able to determine, ‘suspect Able Baker’, located in somewhere in the heavily wooded southwest interior of Washington State brought down a predator drone by means unknown and it crashed into a very expensive pile of trash in woods so deep as to be unreceachable in our lifetimes….
Upon interviewing the primary suspect (last house prior to the last reported position of the predator), the agents of officialdom discovered that they had entered a place of deep dark shadows under old growth cedar trees dripping not only moss several yards long, but also a rich moist coating of woo-woo.
The following will be soon taken from the to-exist-in-the-future, past official records transcripts.
Agent Fred: “Sir, am i to understand you correctly? You are admiting that you shot down the very expensive government drone? Are you certain you understand what crime you are confessing to?”.
Suspect Able Baker: “Yep, son, I know what I am saying….are you hard of hearing? But no way is this a crime.”
Agent Fred: “No sir. I hear you just fine..but i just can’t believe you admitted to a federal crime…”
Suspect Able Baker: “Oh, no son, I didn’t commit a crime. Now I grant you that you have reason to see it that way, but was not the case. I have me a batch of that cancer you know.”
Agent Fred: “ok?? so…”
Suspect Able Baker: “so, this being a dispensary state, I been smok’n some righteous weed. In fact, I had been smoking that whole day as the chemo had been the day before. (long wait as suspect exhales) That was the day I shot down the pterodactyl. And I want you, right now, to show me any damn law that says a man can’t shoot down a pterodactyl if he has to.”
Agent Fred: “Sir, you mean the drone, right? You shot down the drone, correct? That is what you are admitting to…”
Suspect Able Baker: “Well, sonny, if you want to call that big, white pterodactyl that flew over my house and was gonna shit on my property or worse, a drone, you go right ahead. But when I saw it, it was a pterodactyl. That is my story and I am sticking to it. (another long pause as suspect exhales) And I don’t think that you boys will be prosecuting me, an old man living out his last days dying of cancer who happens to hallucinate pterodactyls from the damn chemo. So, in my way of thinking, as I send you boys on your way, is that you get back to drone central, and tell them to paint ” I am not a pterodactyl, do not shoot me.” on them drones…just to be safe. You never can tell what people may see out here in these woods. And the rain and constrant drip makes us all a bit mad, so don’t be surprised when occassionally one of us takes out an annoying pterodactyl.”
Agent Bob (as the agents are leaving): “Sir, just what was it that you used to take down the dro.., er, pterodactyl.”
Suspect Able Baker (grinning): “Why this slingshot, a Mark 5 SuperSling with wrist protector, (extending the weapon) and these……(suspect holds out a cluster of metal balls)…highly magnetized ball bearings. They work on cupracapras as well as pterodactyls. And you never can tell when I may be seeing a couple of them bastards so you boys better get along now, and don’t forget to tell them….”
“I am not a pterodactyl…”
Status of investigation: Temporarily suspended….