Vignettes 24

SAINT GRANBO

Ava Estelle, 81, was more than just angry when two thugs car-jacked and raped her 18-year old granddaughter, Debbie at knifepoint - the retired librarian was determined to have justice. "When I saw the look on my Debbie’s face that night in the hospital, I decided I was going to go out and nail those bastards myself, because I figured the police and courts would go easy on them. I wasn’t scared of them at all. I’ve got me a gun and I’ve been shooting it all my life!" Using a police artist’s sketch of the pair and Debbie’s description of their car, Ava staked out the local skid-row area where the crime took place. After seven days her quarry surfaced. She secretly photographed the duo and followed them to a flop-house hotel. "I knew I had the right pair the minute I saw them, but I snapped a picture anyway. I took it back to Debbie and she confirmed I had the right ones. So I went back to the hotel, located their room and knocked on the door. The minute the big one, Furth, opened the door, I shoot ‘em both square between the legs, right where it would really hurt ’em most. Then I went to the police station and turned myself in." Ava took a taxi to the police station, walked in and laid her 9mm automatic pistol on the Sargent’s desk, and announced: "Those bastards will never rape anybody again, by God!

Convicted rapist Davis Furth, 33, lost both his male member and testicles. Furth’s former prison cellmate, Stanley Thomas, 29, suffered severe damage to his genitalia-undercarriage, but doctors managed to salvage what was left of his mangled manhood - Ava should have been shooting a .45!

Baffled, but admiring lawmen are now perplexed as to how to legally deal with the Vigilante Granny. Police investigator Evan Delp puts it this way: "What she did was wrong, but you can’t throw and 81-year old woman in prison - especially when 3-million people in the city want to nominate her for Sainthood!" This is a true story - my kind of Grandma!

ON TESTING WOMEN

Special Operations require exceptional individuals with unique characteristics, loyalty, motivation, discipline, and determination. It is a demanding and dangerous area where women work better than men at some things. Missions are high profile and there must be a conclusive test devised to measure the response of the applicant BEFORE facing an actual target. I describe in my book CALLED TO SERVE one of the tests I designed to separate the lions from the sheep. After passing all other requirements each new aspirant was brought before me for a final interview. After swearing absolute allegiance and promising in blood to follow every order without question, I would produce a hand grenade, set it on the table between us and instruct the person to pull the pin and release the safety lever. Most of the applicants failed. They would make up every excuse why not to follow my order. What they didn’t know was that I had cut away the blasting cap from the primer - the grenade looked operational, but was a complete dud. Those men and women who passed were then given specialized training in their field of expertise.

The area of assassination was one of those specialties where female "mechanics" often out-performed their male counterparts. Besides being excellent marksmen, they were patient, meticulous, loyal, passionate, and dependable. Depending on the mission, I would allow the operatives a choice of tools to perform their wetwork. One mousey girl preferred to lure her quarry into a compromising situation then stroke his face with her hands. This tender gesture was made deadly by the insertion of three single-edge razor blades between the fingers of each hand. The target was neutralized quickly, without pain, and more certainly than using suppressed firearms and secret silent ammunition. The following report of current CIA methods shows some things remain the same.

A few months ago there was an opening for an assassin. These sensitive positions are hard to fill and preceded by extensive background and testing. After screening all the applicants the selection was narrowed to only two men and a woman. A final evaluation was arranged to see which one would get the extremely secretive job. One by one the candidates were brought into the test area. The CIA training officer offered the first man a pistol. "We must know that you will follow your instructions no matter what the circumstances. Inside the room beyond this metal door you will find your wife sitting in a chair. Take this gun and kill her!" The man was shocked and said, "You can’t be serious! I could never shoot my own wife!" He handed the weapon back and acknowledged he wasn’t the man for the job. The second male applicant went through the same drill. When offered the gun, he entered the door and after some five-minutes of silence he re-emerged in an obvious state of depression. "I tried, but I just couldn’t do it. Surrendering the weapon he was escorted from the test area.

The female was brought to the door with the same instructions, except it was her husband who was in the chair. Handing her the same firearm, the training officer explained: "We must be sure that you will follow instructions no matter what the circumstances. This is your final test. Take this gun and kill him." Even before the door had closed behind her the evaluator heard shots being fired - one after another, 13 times. Then all hell broke loose in the room. There was screaming, crashing, banging! This went on for several minutes before there was quiet. The door opened, and there stood the woman wiping perspiration from her brow: "You didn’t ell me the gun was loaded with blanks! I had to beat him to death with the chair!"

For those interested, employment information can be found on the Internet at www.cia.gov/ciaa/employment/claeindex.htm. You can’t always be assured the practical tests won’t change, but I can offer the following successful application as a hint on how to get by the paperwork: NAME…(your own); Sex...Not enough. DESIRED POSITION...Director, Central Intelligence, but seriously, whatever’s available. If I was in a position to be picky, I wouldn’t be applying to you. DESIRED SALARY…$185,000 a year plus stock options and a Michael Ovitz style severance package. If that’s not possible, make me an offer and we can haggle. LAST POSITION...Target for middle management hostility. SALARY...Less than I’m worth. MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT...My incredible collection of stolen pens and post-it notes. REASON FOR LEAVING...It sucked! PREFERRED HOURS...1:30 - 3:30 p.m., Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER...If I had one, would I be here? DO YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL CONDITIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50-POUNDS...Of what? DO YOU HAVE A CAR...The more appropriate question is, do I have a car that runs? HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS...I may already be a winner of the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE DOING IN FIVE YEARS...Living in the Bahamas at an umbrella-drink bar with a fabulously wealthy dumb sexy blond super-model who thinks I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. Actually, I’d like to be doing that now! DO YOU CERTIFY THE ABOVE IS TRUE TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE...Absolutely. SIGN HERE...Leo.

IQ: As a final help in sharpening your mental edge, here is a one-word IQ test: What is more powerful than God and more evil than the devil? The poor have it; the rich need it; if you eat it you will die? The Answer is NOTHING! Nothing is more powerful than God, more evil than the devil, etc.

IRA WIT: One of my undercover names was PATRICK CLARK, my birthday was St. Patrick’s Day - 17 March. To honor this fine day, here is a smart Irish IRA lad in Long Kesh Prison, who used his wit to help his dear dad living alone in Ireland. The old man wrote a letter to his son asking who would spade his potato garden? The dutiful son send the following reply: "For Da, for heavens sake, man, don’t dig up that garden! Don’ you remember, that’s where I buried the GUNS!" At precisely 5:00 a.m. the next morning, a detachment of British soldiers showed up and turned over the entire garden area, but found no weapons. Confused the old gentleman wrote to his son telling him what happened and asking him what to do next? His son’s reply: "Da’...just plant your potatoes!"

TONGUE ROBBERY: You know times are hard when a blind man will make his way into a bank and ask the assistance of a security guard in handing a stick-up note to the teller - but it actually happened! Of all the weird crime stories, Pinellas Park, Florida is hard to beat. Two perverts held up an adult bookstore using a sex toy. Police said Keith Vetters, 39, walked into the XTC Adult Super Center, announced a "stick-up," and shoved an object in his jacket pocket at the clerk. Thinking the clerk wasn’t taking him seriously, the robber pulled the object out and waved it at the clerk. The "weapon" turned out to be a "vibrating tongue!" Vetters and his accomplice, Earl McHale, 51, were arrested as they tried to flee the store.

LOOK BAD - FEEL GOOD: Adam Oxtal, 81, and his bride, Jeanette, 75, from Omaha, Nebraska stopped their car to ask directions from a 23-year old hitchhiker, who got in. Arriving at their destination, the couple thought to reward their guide with a tip, but the trickster grabbed Adam’s wallet and split with $125. Oxtal, who had a triple-bypass a couple years ago, ran-down and tackled the miscreant, reclaiming his wallet and money.. Determined, the younger person ran back to the car and grabbed Jeanette’s purse. The spunky oldster held firm until the strap broke, leaving the thief again empty-handed. Police arrived on the scene in time to protect the suspect from further abuse by the dynamic-duo.

PLUCKING THE YEW: I considered naming my new book, Steel My Soldier‘s Hearts, from a prayer offered by King Henry V as he prepared for battle against the French at Agincourt in 1415. A vastly larger, more heavily armed French army, vocally swore in loud and clear language to cut the middle-finger off of every captive. The feared British long-bow (made from the Yew Tree) was so stout, archers had to use the index-finger to draw their arrows - a process termed "Plucking the Yew." God graced the English. Henry strategically positioned his main force so a large mud field separated him from the charging French cavalry. The armored horses became bogged down, while the light English footmen darted about slaughtering the helpless knights by "shooting the birds" (arrows stabilized with peacock feathers) through their helmet-slits. The victorious bowmen shook their middle-fingers insultingly at their enemy, taunting: "See! We can still Pluck the Yew!" This is the true story of what we know today as "Shooting the Bird!" and yelling an Americanized derivative of "Pluck Yew!"

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