Late last year, shortly after the end of hunting season, my co-worker, Ron, went on vacation for the holidays. When he returned home, he found that he had been robbed. Namely, robbed of all of his firearms.
The thieving bastards knew exactly what they wanted and brought their tools along with them. They basically just cut Ron’s safe off of the wall with a sawz-all type power tool and handtrucked his safe right out the garage door.
Normally, these would be circumstances that would get your blood boiling, but when I tell you that his son’s first hunting rifle was in the safe, a Winchester Model 70 in .270 Win, ready to be given to him for his birthday in February, you might want to throw something. Don’t, it is bad form. Just wait until the next time you get a criminal in your possession and kick him one extra time, OK?
And this is where a very nice lady named Barb comes into the story.
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