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May 9 2005
As everybody in the Houston Texas area knows, the Houston Rockets defeated the Dallas Mavericks last Thursday nigh t by a score of 101 to 83. Thereby forcing the playoff series to a seventh game.
A bunch of the boys had gathered at a local icehouse to watch the game, and the demeanor of the group was reminiscent of a crowd at a third world cockfight.
You donât see the wave in an icehouse much. The spilled drinks and broken glass just might have something to do with it.
When the game was over, an excited Clint Westwood ran out to the parking lot, got his .357 magnum out from under the front seat of his truck, and started throwing celebratory rounds up at the sky.
As luck would have it, one of the rounds cut the power cable leading to the icehouse, and there was a great showering of blue and white sparks over the parking lot as everything else went dark.
Over all it was pretty dramatic, and some of the lady folks said that it was kind of romantic.
Well, romantic or not, the shower of sparks ignited the oil and chemical soaked rags from the oil patch that Clint had in the back of his truck.
In an act of heroism, Clint climbed into the cab, threw the truck in gear, and proceeded to get his blazing vehicle away from the tank truck fully loaded with unleaded premium that was parked along side.
He had a pretty good head of steam going when he hit the speed bump. Instinct made him hit the brakes, and inertia made half the load of burning rags that were bounced high in the air keep right on going , and deposit themselves on the hood and windshield of his truck.
At this point, Clintâs heroism, like his truck, came to a screeching halt. He opened the door to the cab and threw himself away from the blazing vehicle.
He landed in the bed of a pick-up truck containing a dozen or so Chihuahuas who were in a considerable state of excitement. Clint, as one might guess, became the focus of their anxiety, and he had quite a few little holes in his body by the time he beat his way out of the bed of that pick-up.
The power company, thinking P.R. all the way, was very understanding and there was no major fallout associated with the incident.
Except for a law suit filed by the owner of the Chihuahuas.
It turns out that they are members of a championship miniature dogsled team, and their owner wants Clint to come up with the money so that the traumatized animals can receive proper counseling.
Now what is the world coming to?