The Flying Burrito

So, two weeks ago I respond to this medical call. Some lady decided it was time to take all of her pills at once and end all of the pain, yada, yada, yada. Anyway, we are close so my partner and I haul ass on over. I pull into the yard, grab the O2 from the trunk and run to the house. Problem: the deck is really slick from the rain. At combat speed I slip and pile into the steps. That is OK though, for I used my elbow to break my fall. A little worse for wear and now very pissed, it is on to the house. Can't use the O2, broke the regulator on impact (always knew I was tougher than emergency medical gear). Got to get heart start pads on her, got to see her nasty boobs. No pulse, do my best to break all of her ribs. Lots of fun. Partner names my acrobatics; The Flying Burrito (Deputies wear brown and I was flying or something).

So, this week, we find John Q shit bag that needs to be arrested for breaking stuff. I dealt with this yum-yum when I worked in the jail and greatly missed his...never mind, I have wanted to Abu-Grabe torture this peter-pumper for a long time. Now we find him getting into a car. Hiding in the woods I draw my pistol, break cover, and run to about 8ft away before yelling at him to get down. He sees the gun in his face and screams like a bitch. I move in to put him down and promptly trip on his bags. Fuck, now he is running. I get up quick but my partner has got him under control.

Moral of the story is; don't fall down.

The End