Olive Garden and Gun Shopping

Today was a glorious day. I have decided to embrace my RIGHTS as an AMERICAN and buy a gun. I am tired of silly hippie tofu and granola eaters telling me about how guns are dangerous and kill people. Enough of your noise I say, silly vegetable people. I have the RIGHT.

But before I went gun shopping I had a delicious breakfast. I took the 4 minute, wheezing, exhausting journey to the end of the block to buy two orders of the breakfast special. That makes a total of 8 scrambled eggs, 10 slices of bacon (which I paid extra for), approximately 5 potatoes worth of home fries, and four slices of toast. I also ate a corn muffin and washed it down with a PEPSI.
The key to consuming such an ungodly amount of food was a secret I unlocked when I was a young teenager. I found that it takes approximately 15 minutes for your stomach to "tell" your brain that it is full. That gives you a 15 minute window to stuff your insides with as much food as physically possible. There has been more than a few times in which I thought I might have to go to the ER because I had ate so much in such a short amount of time. In fact, there was an instant last week when I went to my favorite Italian restaurant, the Olive Garden, and I consumed two full pounds of spaghetti with clam sauce (I was concerned that I had ruptured a major organ [feels good, man]). I washed it down with nearly two liters of Mountain Dew (which I brought myself. The Great Fine Dining Establishment of The Olive Garden, surprisngly does not carry Mountain Dew, or Nectar of the American Jesus, as I like to call it) and had to alert management that I would for certain fall asleep inside their establishment if they did not call me a taxi minivan right away.

I made sure to specify "Minivan" but of course, to my anger and disbelief, a normal Crown Victoria came to pick me up. I could barely fit in the cramped back seat, and my driver, Abdallah, will for sure be getting fired by now for his poor driving skills and techniques. I was most uncomfortable the whole ride home and took down his information and reported him to the Better Business Bureau of Philadelphia. Just action must be taken against this man. I felt his braking points were too early upon entry of corners, and he was very late on the throttle upon apex and exit.

I was falling in and out of consciousness like a dope addict on the nod while Abdallah was trying to remove me from his taxi vehicle. I kept telling him that I was not actually asleep, it only appeared so and that he must remove his filthy non-American hands from me at once. I informed him that many Americans died to free the people of his country in the Great Iraqi Surge of 2003. His retort was paper thin and I believe he was lying straight to my greasy, stained facial area. Abdallah informed me that he was actually from Comoros, which is an island in the Indian Ocean. However, since I have never heard of such a place, I concluded that it was nonsense and he was in fact from Iraq, so I insulted his anti-American stance against me and informed him that his taxi ride was disorganized and I felt great sympathy for the next customer that had to endure his bedeviled attitude.

I had finally made it to the gun store, wheezing and stumbling from being overstuffed. It was Lock's Philadelphia Gun Exchange. I informed the gentleman at the front desk that I was indeed and American and I had arrived on this fine day after an epic meal in order to exert my CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS and purchase a firearm. He got me acquainted with all the different brands, types and styles of guns.
There was U.S. and Firearms Company. Glock. Smith and Wesson. Ruger. Colt. Beretta. Rizzini. Walther Springfield Armory. Taurus. Armalite. Ithaca. Bushmaster.
There was shotguns. Semi-automatic shotguns. Fully automatic shotguns. Rifles. Ar-15's. Mac-90's. Mac-10's and Mac-11's. Tec-9 Uzis. MicroUzis. M16's. Pistols, GATS, snub nosed revolvers, 9mm.
There was custom stocks, banana clips, drum clips, grenades, silencers of various finishes and sizes for different needs.
My heart began to swell and I felt a head rush as he began demonstrating the different abilities of all the guns. For the first time in my life, I was silenced and could only nod my head, point and grunt the guns I wanted to see and hold.
This was setting up to be the greatest day of my life when the man behind the counter meekly informed me that I would not be allowed to leave the store today with a gun, there was a 2 week waiting period for a permit. I told him that he is surely mistaken, for I have documented proof on my persons that I am indeed an American and I am simply exerting my RIGHTS. I was born in America, I told him, I will always live in America and I will die in America. Now if he would simply sell me an M96 Expeditionary Rifle (made in the USA of the highest quality materials) I would be on my way.
He reiterated that it was simply not possible to buy a gun without the 2 week waiting period, and I was too stuffed and drunk with food to argue with this cretin any longer. I thought that if I had simply explained to him once more that I was An American with God given RIGHTS ensured by the Constitution of the United States, the very document this great country is built on, he would realize his error and sell me my hand crafted rifle.
So I left the store with heavy eyelids and hailed a cab. I stepped inside to be in the presense of ANOTHER foreigner. His name was Nirvan and I suspected him to be a terrorist for he had headgear indicitive of an Islam hatemonger, so I tried to flee out the cab immediately to find that the doors were locked. I began sweating and feeling panic. If I only had my rifle to defend myself! He told me to calm down for he was in fact a Sikh. I have never heard of this nonsense either, so I called him a liar. I decided that the American God was going to protect me on my ride home, so I told Nirvan to concentrate on his braking points and keeping a smooth throttle from launches. I had to get home alive. Scrubs was on at 4pm.