"'Daddy, Daddy, that copper beat me! He tried to kill me.'

"And Mr. Chick just busts out like a boiler:

"'A a a a a a a a a o o o o o u u u u u u u n n n ngggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!'

"It was a godawful scream like a mother bear that sees one of her own being pushed off a pit into the bubbling fires of hell. Mr. Chick has that old karate adrenalin rush and shrieks:

"'Who was he? Who was the one, son? Yellow copper beating up my boy? I'll kill him!'

"And Terry points out the guy but the cops are in control.

"ANYWAY Jack Chick and I are in the cop car and he turns to me and says 'Say we're in big trouble.' And I say 'Yes we are.' So our cops are headed home and this truck comes cruising out of the woods with an old redneck bear with a big gut at the wheel. Cruising out there with a six pack of beer and a mean old dog in the back and gun racks in the window and the cops stop him and he's just been cruising around, y'understand, fox hunting I believe it was, and they see he's packing a wild west .44 shotgun. The cop goes up to him and asks him if he could see his license."

"They shined their big spotlight on him, and his big ol' red beery eyeballs take a squint at the situation and don't like what they see. Like an armadillo rooted out at night, cross as hell.

"'Goddamn. I have just been out here tonight trying to shoot me a few foxes, having enough troubles of my own without all your friggin' flashers and sirens and running around tonight to scare 'em off...'

"'Now just take it easy, sir. Whyn't you just step out of that truck a minute...'

"'And you, you runty nosed little bastard, YOU ask ME to show my credentials? And he does step out of the truck, and the deputies could see him rockin' back and forth on his heels, drunk as a skunk, kinda fondlin' the .44 so's the deputies would know it was there.

'AND YOU'RE telling me, ME to get out of mytruck?' We could smell his breath way back in the cop car. So this dude starts leaning forward across his belly and looking real clear at the depty who's doing all the talking and starts wavin' the shotgun around his finger-like it's a fuckin' toothpick, man--and the deputy is a little skinny guy whose uniform is all trim and tucked and he says,

"'Now don't get mad, mister, we're gonna haveta see you for a moment here....'

"'Me, me mad? No, I'm not mad. Why should I be mad? And you, YOU can sure as hell see ME. Why just step back into the woods with me about half a mile and my dog'll trot along to drag you out after I'm finished with you and your goddamn measly worm-eaten carcass...'

"And the deputies are backin' away nice and polite with all deliberate speed and they say:

"'OK. OK Mister. Just forget it. Go along hunting and sorry we bothered you...'

"And the big guy slung his gut back in the cab of his pickup with the point of his rifle stuck out the window and he roared one more time with his booming voice...

"'Goddamn! Cops out to stop everybody from having a little fun. They try to pick on some boys and they run into ME!' And he and his truck and his rifle and his dog in the back jostle and bump back into the woods over little clumps of palmetto scrub and burnt out stumps, looking for foxes...

"AND THOSE coppers radio in to headquarters, after they finish rounding everybody up, since everybody is already out in the Spruce Creek area, they send in five sheriff's cars full of deputies and surround the guy, five lawmen to every car, twenty-five Volusia County Sheriffs and deputies, and they jump the guy. And take him into the cop station, with the rest of us."