This is a news story near and dear to my heart. I like to hoist a couple of brews every now and again. And by couple I mean a personal pony keg. And maybe some absinthe if anybody has any handy. After slugging down many drinks I’ve been known to do quasi-illegal things like urinate in public and walk along streets lifting car door handles to see if cars are unlocked*. It’s not shit you are necessarily proud of. But it’s also shit you shouldn’t be, say, blasted with a shotgun for.
Which is probably what Zoey Ripple, 21, thought when she woke up in the hospital last Thursday after being shot by Timothy Justice (you can’t make these names up). Zoey had apparently partied extremely hard Wednesday night and then drunkenly wandered in through an open door at the Justice home (The Hall Of Justice! [trumpet blast]) and was shot after failing to heed warnings from Timmy.
Lucky for her, Tim was only maiming and got her in the hip. Which greatly disappointed commenter NINJAPLEAZ: “If it’s not yours then you are breaking the law. I would’ve blown her head off most likely and not batted an eye.” Yeah brah. You make a stupid drunk decision, you deserve to have your head removed with a firearm. Don’t want your head blown off? Don’t get drunk. If you’re going to get drunk, it’s not our fault that your head gets annihilated into smithereens. In fact, we’ll all laugh our asses off as we clean your brain matter off the walls. It’s called personal responsibility, hippie.
And before I go any further, let me answer every doode’s unspoken question: Was she hot?
Just imagine this cute blonde 92 pound psychopath stumbling towards your bedroom door at 3:30 a.m. probably slurring Katy Perry lyrics. Here’s how I picture this scene going down:
[Sound of door sliding open. Doreen bolts up in bed]
Doreen [loud whispering]: Tim! Tim! Wake up! I heard something.
Tim: What? Go back to bed.
[Sound of a table skidding across the floor like somebody is moving it or bumping into it]
Doreen: No Tim! Somebody is out there. I hear…singing.
Tim [now awake]: Singing? I’ll get the shotgun. You open the door and peek out.
[Tim loads up the shotgun. Doreen throws open the door and peers down the hall. In the dark they see a smallish figure coming down the hall. The figure bumps off the walls careening from side to side. ]
Tim: Hit the lights Doreen! Maybe that will scare them away.
[The lights come on illuminating a petite blonde coed who is drunk and seems to be taking her shirt off]
What Goes Through Tim’s Mind: Oh Jesus. You’ve got to be kidding me. Jesus, you son of a bitch! You couldn’t have this happen when Doreen is gone? You’re torturing me! You are cruel and vengeful God.
What Tim Says: Freeze or you will force me to make your day…or, uh make my day. Throw your shirt to the ground and then put your hands above your head.
What Goes Through Doreen’s Mind: This motherfucker. I should have known. Google search history loaded to the hilt with Dripping Coed 42 Part 2 and Gonzo Naughty Biology 713: Anal Exam. I knew it. He’s hoping we’ll turn this into some couples seducing coeds scenario.
What Doreen Says: Is this who you’ve cheated on me with?
Tim: What? What the hell are you talking about? [continues aiming gun at Zoe who's gotten her shirt off and is now fumbling with her bra]
Doreen: You don’t know this girl?
Tim: Are you crazy? Go call the cops while I make sure she doesn’t kill us and everyone we’ve ever cared about.
Doreen: You’d like that, huh? Leave you two alone? You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you alone with this half-dressed skank. I’ve seen your search history, Tim. You said you were done with this. You said you wouldn’t look at co-ed porn anymore! You lied to me you bastard! [starts crying]
Tim [trying to remember if he cleared his browser history]: Doreen, I’ve never seen this beautiful young woman before in my life!
Doreen: Beautiful? [sobs]
Tim: That came out wrong.
Doreen: You’re going to leave me aren’t you? Where did you meet her? How long has this been going on?
Tim: I told you, I don’t know who she is! Hey! Miss! Stop singing and lay down on the floor with your hands behind your back!
Doreen: You’re going to have sex with her right in front of me? Throw it in my face?
Tim [getting angry now]: Doreen, you’re being hysterical. I don’t know this girl. Please believe me.
Doreen [resigned and pulling her self together]: Okay Tim. I’ll believe you. But you have to do one thing for me.
Tim: Whatever you want. Just please, get the phone.
Doreen: You have to shoot her.
Doreen: She broke in. It’s fully justified. Prove your faithfulness to me and shoot this drunk slut.
Tim: How do you know she’s a slut?
Zoe: Whoohooo! Who wants to do body shots? YOLO!
Tim: Well that settles that.
Hopefully you didn’t party so hard that someone blasted you with a shotgun this Memorial Day Weekend.
*To be fair, I did not actually steal anything from these cars. A friend of mine was about to take a watch out of one but after an attack of conscience he put it back. I like to think of the whole thing as a science experiment (a nice, self-serving way to think about it, to be sure) on how many people leave their cars unlocked. As it turns out: quite a few. And not one car alarm went off even though we probably lifted 30 door handles.