Backwoods Michigan, it was like the Hatfields and McCoys.
Meanwhile back in the city, one of Detroit's finest citizens put a gun to my head and told me I better save the guy I was working on, that he shot no less, because the dude owed him money. When my partner slipped up and said the guy was already dead, homey did his damndest to make good on his threat, but thankfully his trigger finger wasn't as fast as my oxygen tank upside his head.
I won't get started on the medical calls that turned out to be domestics.
It's a phuq'd up world, chief.
Damn it...glad you were quick on the draw with that O/2 Tank...
I won't make it sound too impressive.
The guy was stoned, (you know, on that drug that doesn't make people violent) and had trouble finding the trigger. He actually turned around like he was embarrassed/mad he couldn't make his bangy thingy work.
Once he figured it out, after putting one into the ceiling, he turned and had his subconscious liberated.
