No name is given for the well-regulated militia hero who drew down on a potential perp at a Sparks, Nevada picture show, so we'll call him "Cletis Sump." As a licensed concealed carry permit holder, Brother Sump packs heat where ever he goes. He was doing just that last Friday, when he and his wife, OfCletis, went to see "The Bourne Legacy for date night.
Details about what happened that night are sketchy, but I believe it went something like this.
Brother Sump's junebug senses began tingling the moment he entered the picture show. Something about the crowd seemed kinda off, even kinda funny. He was glad he was packing ol' sheila, his 9mm "confidence enhancer" in his jacket pocket.
As Brother Sump bent over to ease himself into the picture show chair, he spied a reflection in a puddle of co-cola left over from the previous showing. The image he saw horrified him. It looked like a denim hoodied, hairy-faced, cola-complected man with a scar, no a deep cleft that evilly bisected his face from where the chin should be, all the way up the the hairline.
Startled, Brother Sump reached for Ol' Sheila but was too late. His 9mm confidence enhancer had fallen from his pocket and was dropping to the floor. It fired when it hit, shooting 115 grains of wadcutter ecstasy out of the muzzle of is long, rigid barrel. No one knows where the round eventually landed, but, coincidentally, a 115 gr. 9mm wadcutter round, probably shot by the cleft-faced perp, wounded Brother Sump in the buttocks, just below and to the right of where his jeans bisected the glorious man-crack that identifies him as defender of the Heartland.
The perp got away, but Cletis Sump is no less a hero. The blast of Ol' Sheila surely frightened the cleft-faced killer before he could harm anyone else.