Wednesday, September 27, 2006

STUN GUN STORY

STUN GUN STORY

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife.  This was submitted by a

guy who purchased his lovely wife a "pocket Taser" for their anniversary.

 

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that   sparked

my interest.  The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a

little something extra for my wife Toni.  What I came across was a

100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser.  The effects of the taser were

supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your

assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety.... WAY TOO

COOL!

 

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.  I loaded two

triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.  Nothing!  I

was disappointed.  I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND

pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch

of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.  Awesome!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the

face of her microwave.

 

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it

couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries,. right?!!!

 

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting

little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really

needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.  I must

admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and

thought better of it.  She is such a sweet cat.  But, if I was going to

give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want

some assurance that it would work as advertised.  Am I wrong?

 

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses

perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, taser

in another.  The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and

disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle

spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would

purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of

water.  Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

 

All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5" long,

less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two

itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no possible way!"

 

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.....

 

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side

as to say, "don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second burst from

such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad..  I decided to

give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it.  I touched the

prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, WEAPONS OF

MASS DESTRUCTION@!@$$!%!@*!!!

 

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up

in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and

over again.  I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position,

with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles

nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest

position, and tingling in my legs.  The cat was standing over me making

meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly

thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!"

 

Note: If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one note

of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap

yourself.  You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from

your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.  A three second burst

would be considered conservative.

 

SON-OF-A-.. that hurt like hell!!!  A minute or so later (I can't be sure,

as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little

 

I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.  My bent reading glasses

were on the mantel of the fireplace.  How did they up get there???  My

triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.  My face felt

like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.

I'm still looking for my testicles?  I'm offering a significant reward for

their safe return.

 

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