So I had a couple of government agents (FBI?) show up at the office yesterday afternoon, saying they needed to ask me a few questions. The tall one said they'd seen some stuff on my websites that they considered "skirting the fringe" of Title 18, Section 871 of the United States Code - making threats against the President - a class E felony (I didn't even know felonies went past D). Naturally, I nearly crapped my pants.
After asking if I could have legal representation present for the questioning (I could), I called my cousin Rudy. While not a lawyer, Rudy has been in court more than any person I know, and supposedly even studied some law during his last year in prison. He rushed right over and after discussing his fee (bag of pot), he dispensed the following legal advice: Admit nothing. Take the offensive. Don't let them intimidate me.
We all sat down in my office, and the little guy placed a voice recorder on the table and turned it on. Before they could ask me a question, I calmly reached into my drawer and pulled out my Beretta 92FS 9MM pistol and laid it in front of me, thinking this bold Second Amendment display would remind these guys that I'm an American citizen with unalianble unalienbal very strong rights and will not be intimidated by them or anyone else.
My attorney screamed "OH SHIT, HE'S GOT A GUN!" and dove behind a chair as both agents drew their weapons and ordered me to freeze. Ever since a squirrel ran by me in the park when I was three, I've suffered from a weak bladder and before my retarded cousin had even hit the floor, I was peeing myself like an overexcited puppy. Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed, and after taking possession of my gun, the agents proceeded to question me.
Click pic, dufus
Click, retard
