Dogs and SOBs
“Da cabrones, hijos
de puta, they da same guys, man.”
He said to me one
day, as he slammed his open hand against the wall. He was almost in tears, and
really pissed. What he said translates to “The bastards and SOBs!”, and that’s
not sons of business men, but sons of hoes. After the third or fourth time, the
same cop says,
“Geee Manny, Ida na
watta tells youse…why donya git some dogs, man.”
That’s what he told
me the cops said, so on that advice he brought in a pair of trained dogs. Dobermans! They kept watch over the store at
night, and Manny prayed for the assholes to come again. I guess junkies don’t
read or care to case a joint. They just want cash to get high, they’re in a
hurry. Perhaps they figured they had a good thing going there, and so a few
nights after the dogs came, they hit the place again.
“Gerrrrrrrrrrrrrr…arrrffffffff, Ouuuuuuucch, Yiiiiikes…Oh my Gawwwwwwwwd!”
The alarms went off,
the cops came, and Manny had to go down and get the dogs out of the way. One
dumb burglar was lucky that he was able to make it into the toilet, lock himself in, and pray for help. He was busted
for breaking, entering and a whole bunch of other things. You would think for once
justice prevailed, right…wrongo! That asshole sued Manny for having a dangerous
situation, his medical bills, and a bunch of other ridiculous issues. The
bottom line- he won, and my friend became a heavy smoker.
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