Packing the new truck is almost like being a rookie again. Lots of things have changed — it’s our truck, we have a giant inverter, and we’re self-dispatched, so we can avoid the gun-hating states like New Jersey. Governor Christie can have his traffic jams and unarmed public — I don’t care if I ever see New Jersey again. I feel the same way about California, but I don’t have to worry about it because we’re not allowed in California in the new/old truck. Any place that purposely makes it difficult to move freight should have to do without the freight.
I’m pretty sure if California ran out of toilet paper, they’d be a lot less inclined to ban certain trucks from their state. Let a natural disaster happen, and they’ll be begging for any trucks, butterfly killers or not, to bring them what they need. Supply and demand is funny like that.
We’ve done nothing but discuss the modifications we’re going to do to the inside of the truck. We’ve been in touch with our friend Bryan Martin at 4 State Trucks (home of the Chrome Shop Mafia) to see what ideas he and his crew have for our baby. My suggestion of making the top bunk a tanning bed has been unilaterally rejected, but they’re going to do some things with the dash that are beautiful, and I can’t wait to have the work done.
“So after we pick her up from the Chrome Shop, are we dropping her off at Fox’s?”
(Fox Shooting Loft is our neighborhood gun store – also where George parks his trailer, when he has one, to avoid throwing certain people who may or may not live around us into an apoplectic fit.)
“Why does she need to go to Fox’s?”
“So John can weld the fully articulated machine guns to the roof.”
“We can’t even install the satellite on the roof — we won’t clear the bridges anywhere. No machine guns.”
“OK. How about a short cannon in the tool box, modified to extend and retract as necessary?”
“Hmmm. How about we mount the Mosin in the bunk?”
“I don’t think so. That thing bellows fire like a dragon, we may do more damage to ourselves than the enemy. No Mosin.”
“Well dammit, we at least need dart guns for potential Sasquatch sightings.”
“I’m not really crazy about the thought of you having poison darts at your disposal.”
“They’re not poison. They’re just knock-out darts. So we can tag him and stuff.”
“Oh right. Tagging Sasquatch. I’m sure John has something for that in his inventory. I’ll call him right away.”
And while I sense he was making fun of me, I’m still taking the time to draw some sketches up for John, so he can build me a Sasquatch dropper. You can never be too prepared when it comes to Sasquatch.
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