May 20 2006

Well gang, there’s real inspiring news this week. It seems that one of our members, Hank Stoutheart, was standing in the back of one of those stop and rob convenience stores trying to decide what kind of beer to buy for a fishing trip. Up at the front of the store, seventy-year old "Ma" Remington was behind the counter.
Suddenly, there was a loud blast. In the confined quarters of the store it sounded like a canon, but Hank knew immediately that it was probably a twelve gauge shot gun. Before the sound had stopped bouncing around the store Hank was hugging the floor, cursing the buttons on his shirt for keeping him from getting lower.
He was lying there, wondering what kind of shape "Ma" Remington was in, when he heard her voice say, "You can come out now "Honey".
Hank grabbed a twelve-pack of beer and walked out to the counter.
There was "Ma" Remington standing behind the counter with a shot gun in her hands and a grin on her face.
"I didn’t know you kept a shot gun behind the counter." Said Hank.
"I don’t." said "Ma". This is the robber’s shot-gun. He walked in, pointed it at me, and demanded money. I said your shot-gun has my name on it. And when he looked down at the gun to check the name, I snatched it out of his hands. On his way out the door, I pulled a Dick Cheney, and dusted off the seat of his pants for him. Sure am glad it was loaded with bird shot, double ought buck would have made a mess on the floor."
"Ma" slapped her hand on the counter. "Drinks are on the house. Give me one of those rascals Hank." She said.
As "Ma" and Hank stood there chuckling and knocking back their beers, Hank picked up the shot-gun and looked at it. Then he looked at "Ma". ""Ma"" he said, "Your last name isn’t Mossberg."
"No", she said, "but he didn’t know that."
They sure don’t make ‘em like they used to.

Till next week
Helga Biermeister
Secretary