Bobby Wrong

Ah, Bobby Wrong. What a guy. Last week Bobby Wrong and two cohorts ran from the police. Bobby's pal, the driver, tried to shoot an officer and was gunned down. But I won't comment too much on that other than to say, "Nice shot." Bobby swallowed a big ole bag of crack and wound up in the hospital. But a little background is in order. You see, Bobby has been in trouble before. His is one of my favorite stories.

Bobby was cutting through a neighbor's yard. Without consent, he hops this guy's fence and walks right through the back yard. The old man comes outside and tells Bobby to stay out of his yard. Bobby, being a gang member with a low IQ, tells the man, "Fuck you!" and keeps walking. The old man tells him, "If you come back through my yard I'm gonna let my dogs out."

Bobby comes back fifteen minutes later and again hops the fence. Only this time he's met by two dogs that completely savage him. They tear a massive hunk out of his shoulder before the old man calls them off. Bobby then tells the guy, "I'm gonna get my gun and shoot yo ass!" The old man warns him not to come back.

Infuriated, Bobby goes somewhere (most likely in some abandoned house or sewer culvert) and gets a shotgun. He returns to the yard intent on killing something or someone. He again jumps the fence, only the dogs are now inside. The old man is fifty yards away holding a scoped deer rifle of a large caliber. He tells Bobby, "I told you to stay out of my yard, boy!"

Bobby, realizing he will certainly die if he points the shotgun, jumps back over the fence. Now he's completely enraged. He decides to go get his boys and bring them back to the old man's house. I guess he figures he needs his "gang" to back him up. But Bobby doesn't have any transportation. Or a license. Or a life!

He wanders out to the street waving his rusty shotgun. Instantly he sees an eight year old Mexican kid riding a bike. Without hesitating, he jams the shotgun in the kids face and steals the bike, which is way too small for him. He then pedals furiously down the street, the shotgun balanced precariously on the handlebars.

It is at this very moment one of my coworkers pulls up alongside Bobby in a police cruiser. Bobby's head jerks around violently when he realizes his plans are foiled. He jerks the bike sideways, flips into a ditch, and lands with the bike on top of him. The shotgun clinks down the street harmlessly. Bobby is so angry he's screaming and trying to get out from underneath the bike. My coworker casually walks up and paints Bobby's face with pepper spray. He has to be restrained to a bed and transported to the hospital to treat the dog bites. The nurses shoot him full of Haldol to knock him out so they don't have to listen to his ranting.

He's booked and charged with armed robbery and possession of a firearm by a convicted felon. That was six years ago and he's already out, running from the police again.