Comedy Story: I Won't Move My Hand (Special)

I got the call from Lydia, John was back at the farm. Cocksucker was doing what he always did, screaming, breaking shit. This time it was different. He was armed and he was drunk. I grabbed my coat and hit the road in my 07 Ford Focus. The 08 had improved handling but the 07 was familiar to me. I knew it and it knew me. Driving this beauty was like kissing your wife on your 60th wedding anniversary. Didn’t take me long to get to the farm where true to his nature, John was screaming and waving his gun around. Looked like a .357 magnum from where I was standing. I left the car on and the radio playing. It was Summer Wind by Sinatra, what a classic.
“John, do we really have to keep doing this ever fuckin’ weekend?” I asked.
“Hey motherfucker I wanna see both of your hands and I want you to get them up high! You hear me motherfucker!?”
“Yeah I ain’t deaf, and I ain’t gonna show you my other hand.”
“Well…Why the fuck not?”
“Don’t think about that John you have bigger things to worry about...well, not much bigger.”
“Like what?” 
“Well by now Liddie and the girls have probably called the police station. You being drunk, armed and angry. Plus stupid, I forgot stupid.”
“Only one stupid is you and that’s cause you won’t show me your other fucking hand! Now get it up!”
“My hand is right where it needs to be John. You need to listen to me when I say that you’re running out of time.”
“No you are motherfucker! I’m fine…I’m doing real good matterafact cause I’m gonna shoot your dumbass! Haha what’ya think of that?”
“You could shoot me John. Or my hand could come outta this pocket…and you might not have enough time to shoot me. I might have something in this pocket that you don’t want to come out. I might not have enough time, it’s true. You might be too fast, or you might not. But either way, you’re running out of time.”
“You don’t scare me man…I don’t think you even have a gun.”
“Maybe I don’t. Maybe you’re right. But if you keep pointing that gun at me you might just fool around and end up shooting me.”
“Yeah I might just motherfucker! That might be the best thing to happen to me in a long, long time.” He pulled the hammer back on his revolver and grinned.
“John the way I see it, the cops are on the way. So you could shoot me and I’d probably die. That might make you feel real good, but only for a short time. You couldn’t enjoy it too long. The cops are mighty slow so you could probably shoot me and still have some time to make a run for it.”
“Yeah…I recon I might.”
“But if you do that, even these slow cops, that are as dumb as you surely are will find you John. There just ain’t many places you can go up here in these mountains. Police find you up there, that would be the best thing for ya.”
“How so?”
“Well if the cops find ya then it means you weren’t ate by a …mountain lion or a bear…or something else.”
“Wha-what the hell do you mean something else?”
“Well nobody really knows what all is up in them mountains John. You know as well as I do that a lot of people get lost in there where even the dogs and volunteers can’t sniff em’ out.”
“Well…I ugh, well I guess that I… ought not shoot you after all.”
“The best thing would be to put that gun away, forget about me and my other hand and leave this place.”
“Yeah…you’re making a lot of sense Tex. I guess I will put my gun away…long as you don’t plan to shoot me when I do.”
“I already told you John, I don’t wanna bring this hand out of it’s pocket for anybody, even you.” Lydia and the girls were watching from the window, their eyes full of fear. Sirens rang out in the distance and John lowered, then holstered his .357.
“I recon you’re a better man than I figured you for Tex. I’ll just wait for the cops now. Nobody got shot anyhow, couldn’t come down on me too hard, could they?” He slumped onto the wood splittin’ stump and ran his hands through his hair.
“I don’t figure they will John. Nobody got shot after all.”
The cops took John in but before they did, detective Luke Cryasight asked me about my gun.
“I wanna know if you bluffed em’ Tex. Did you really have a piece on ya?”
“Shit no, this coat pocket and the britches I have on have a custom designed tunnel… to my cock. I was flapping my meat hammer for all I was worth the whole damn time. Coping mechanism, you see. I don’t do too well with stressful situations…Well if that’s all ya need from me detective, I’ll be going.” I bid the detective good night, the disturbed and confused look on his face told me that he was finished with his inquiries.