Six Shooter Junction – I know you; you know me. You sat there all day long and sneered at me. Get over it. You work in public.
The doctor described how a man bled out; he didn’t tell what we all know, that your cops stood over him and his friends with a gun while his life gushed out on the pavement after ya’ll shot him in the butt.
Another guy you carried around behind the building out of sight of the tv cameras where you let him bleed out, and then you let the ambulance take him to the hospital.
You wouldn’t let the ambulances take them to get help, but the ambulances were there; they came from all over the place because you knew just exactly how many meat wagons you would need.
That “law enforcement-based entity” you keep talking about told you just how to do it, didn’t they? Who did they ask? The Army? Or did they just ask the Army’s computer? Tell it like it is, big shot.
In each case, the prosecutor asked what was the toxic chemical the dead man was under the influence of. It was marijuana, alcohol, meth, some stuff we couldn’t pronounce if we tried.
They were stabbed, shot, slashed, bludgeoned, their skulls cracked like an egg. Yeah. Looked real good on TV. Good and dead. OK, we get it. Looked a lot like Vietnam.
In four cases, your cops finished the job your enemies started. Now, you are not putting on a case against the old boy you have charged. Not even close. You do that because you can, and it’s not funny, hear?
His lawyer can’t get at the facts she needs to defend his case, whatever it is, and she’s been trying for months. That’s because there is no way it can be done. You will stand there and say there is no problem until hell freezes over, but you won’t give her the information she seeks. Admit it.
You say you can’t let this other man have his trial because you quit and the judge quit, and there is not another lawyer to take your place or another judge, or another courtroom. If we ask any questions, your servants just get real ugly and sull up.
You can do a lot better than that, and you’d better get to doing it.
You have enough lawyers and judges and courthouses and jails and penitentiaries and you keep them plumb full all the time, and you know it. To you, it’s a growth industry, not a ministerial duty of the government.
In some cases, it’s the family business. Ain’t that a fine kettle of fish.
You need to be finding a lawyer who will get the job done, right quick. You need to be finding a judge who will get the job done, right quick. Or you will wonder forever how come you didn’t, now, that’s a fact.
Your legislators take big bribes from hoods out of state to make gambling illegal while you fill your marginal commercial property with computerized gambling machines and fleece the cripples and the people who have lost their way in life out of their grandma and grandpa checks. You set up people from overseas who hate us for who we are and say so on Friday afternoons, and you know exactly what I’m talking about because you do in on Sundays.
You’re bent like a pretzel and you will kill anyone who gets in your way, and you know it. You not only know it, you preach it, and we’re getting durn tired of listening to that obscenity.
These people went to a place to talk about politics on a Sunday. You sent your murderers to set the thing right like you wanted, then you had your gun thugs cut loose with precision fire. It was an ambush within an ambush, and you know it. You can’t hide it.
You even took motion pictures of the whole thing.
Get the show on the road. Today, Boss Hog. Now. Don’t wait around.
I have spoken.
I am sincere
So mote it be.
- The Legendary