Hooligans Sportsbook

Shot at

  • Start date
  • Replies
    25 Replies •
  • Views 2,309 Views
I've told the story before and pretty sure I told it here.

Had a friend who was a cop and his dad (a former preacher) bought a repo business from a guy here in town.

The dad ran the business and was doing ok so the son saw an opportunity to make more money doing the repo thing and he left the force to join his dad as partners. Eventually the dad'd health got to the point that he just couldn't do it anymore and my friend took the whole thing over.

I would go with him sometimes when he needed an extra hand. I really enjoyed it because it was like stealing but legal like so it was the best of both worlds.

One night we go up to repo this truck. It's out in the country up in the Lake City area. My buddy had the address of the owner and he was driving. We get to the address he has on the guy and kill the lights on the repo truck and creep up to the place. The repo truck was a Ford F-250 with a flipout towing system. We got in position behind the repo and flipped out the tow bar but it was hung up. I jump out of the truck to get the tow bar untangled and my buddy backs under the repo for a quick drab.

Just as he starts to lift the first shot rings out. FUCK!

I run and dive back in the truck and my buddy hits the gas and a 2nd sot rings out. Down the drive a 3rd and final shot blast through the night and we are out of there.

My buddy doesn't stop, we haven't even hooked the securing chains, the repo is just resting on the tow bar. A few miles down the road there are headlights behind us and my buddy say's to reach in the glovebox and get his piece. I opned the glovebox and pulled out his 9mm. I am holding it and I'm like ok now what. He says pop a couple warning shots off out the window. I'm like FUCK YOU, I'm not shooting this thing all random like. He grabs the gun and while driving he pops off a couple rounds out the drivers side back in the direction of the headlights.

A couple more miles and the headlights turned off and we headed back to Gainesville to the repo yard.

When we get to the yard the repo truck is running hot. We get out to inspect the truck and there are 3 bullet holes on the drivers side around the side mirror. There are 3 holes in a 10-inch diameter. I'm no hunter but I have done plenty of target shooting and that is a very good grouping when you consider it was dark, the first shot was at a minimum of 30 yards, the 2nd was around 100 yards and the 3rd was at least 200 and the last 2 shots were moving. One of the bullets went through the side of the truck and into the engine area and had damaged something which is why the truck was overheating.

I go back to log in the repo and notice something. Normally I would have noticed this way earlier but with the shooting and all there wasn't time. The Vin Number doesn't match, yeah, it's the WRONG vehicle.

So now it's a real problem. My buddy calls another repo agent who owns a different service and he also calls the authorities.

In the end my friends friend took the vehicle back and something got worked out so no charges were administered. Needless to say my buddy eventually had to sell the repo business cause this wasn't his only boneheaded outing. For the record this little recap is indicative of his time on the police force as well.

I still have a picture somewhere of that repo truck and the grouping of the shots.
 
nice story. I didn't know these people "stole" vehicles like that. That's crazy. I thought you'd have to knock on the door and show some papers first :dunno: I mean anyone could think their car is simply being stolen and come out with a gun.
 
In case you guys haven't figured it out I wake up in the morning to chase adrenaline rushes or the feeling of being alive, for me. No I don't really enjoy drugs and think it's kind of a cop out for those sensations, but I have been told they work. Regardless I was a 19 year old buck with my two friends. We had packed the three of us into a a two person truck and drove from 9pm to 530am to go to the Mojave desert to hunt rattlesnakes. To help you guys out the most deadliest snake in North and South American is the Mojave Green Rattlesnake. We have caught two of them. A female adult and a child. The child was the scariest, because they don't even consider dry biting. So if you get bite you have, from what I remember, 5-10 minutes to get anti-venom. Basically I'm going to slit the bite area with my knife in a X and suck every lost drop of blood out of you while we are in route to a hospital. Luckily none of us were bit.

We were on foot at this point in the night. We had left our car at the campground, if you can call it that, and had started heading North on foot. This was about 10:30pm. In our journey looking for and listening for a rattler we had run across a barbed wire fence. We crossed it. About two miles in a light flicks on in moonlit evening and we see a man come out of what was an invisible to us house. The first shot rings out to break the silence we've heard for the last two hours and we drop to prone position. I started bleeding on my chin from smashing my head on a rock. Another shot rings out in the night. By some chance of luck we had all dropped lifelessly to the earth behind a high enough and big enough rock his bb's were not getting through. I then hear the gun cock open and figure he has a double barrel shotgun.

I then have a conversation with my friends that was probably the most meaningful and respectful conversation of my entire life. We are dead silent looking each other in the eyes and I tell then "we are going to take a gamble here guys." I then tell them in the most confident and quiet voice I can muster. ANOTHER SHOT GOES OFF. This time bbs are flying over our head and we can hear them ripping through the sand, bouncing off rocks, and wizzing above our heads at speeds we don't want to be in front of. I then say "he has a double barrel shotgun and after this next shot goes off I will give you the signal to run." I have no idea why I didn't pee my pants at this point in my life, but I sat prone for the longest time of my life. I can't even tell you the times of any of these events, but I lay there waiting. I was hoping he'd give us another shot and I was really hoping it'd be that of a shotgun so I knew he hadn't gotten a rifle or who knows what people in butt-fuck no where carry. Laws no longer matter when you are out here.

BAM! Shot two had rung out and I was right for the only time it has ever mattered in my life. It was another round of bbs. We heard similar sounds as before with the shots wizzing above our heads and bouncing off the rock in from of us. I whispered "run" to my friends and we all got up and ran the fastest our pre-pumped up hearts would carry us in the dark, hot summer night. In the background we heard "You fucking inbreed hillbilly fucks better not be coming near any of my land anymore you hear. I'm getting my dogs and coming out for ya." We were running so fast that my friend tried to jump the barbed wire fence and ended up slashing his calf. No one knew at the time we all just regrouped and spirited for our camp site. About four miles later we had reached what mentally was a safe spot for us. I started puking all over near a cactus and another friend of mine did as well. We weren't trained for this.


I can post some pictures of these snakes as well if that interests you guys.
 
In case you guys haven't figured it out I wake up in the morning to chase adrenaline rushes or the feeling of being alive, for me. No I don't really enjoy drugs and think it's kind of a cop out for those sensations, but I have been told they work. Regardless I was a 19 year old buck with my two friends. We had packed the three of us into a a two person truck and drove from 9pm to 530am to go to the Mojave desert to hunt rattlesnakes. To help you guys out the most deadliest snake in North and South American is the Mojave Green Rattlesnake. We have caught two of them. A female adult and a child. The child was the scariest, because they don't even consider dry biting. So if you get bite you have, from what I remember, 5-10 minutes to get anti-venom. Basically I'm going to slit the bite area with my knife in a X and suck every lost drop of blood out of you while we are in route to a hospital. Luckily none of us were bit.

We were on foot at this point in the night. We had left our car at the campground, if you can call it that, and had started heading North on foot. This was about 10:30pm. In our journey looking for and listening for a rattler we had run across a barbed wire fence. We crossed it. About two miles in a light flicks on in moonlit evening and we see a man come out of what was an invisible to us house. The first shot rings out to break the silence we've heard for the last two hours and we drop to prone position. I started bleeding on my chin from smashing my head on a rock. Another shot rings out in the night. By some chance of luck we had all dropped lifelessly to the earth behind a high enough and big enough rock his bb's were not getting through. I then hear the gun cock open and figure he has a double barrel shotgun.

I then have a conversation with my friends that was probably the most meaningful and respectful conversation of my entire life. We are dead silent looking each other in the eyes and I tell then "we are going to take a gamble here guys." I then tell them in the most confident and quiet voice I can muster. ANOTHER SHOT GOES OFF. This time bbs are flying over our head and we can hear them ripping through the sand, bouncing off rocks, and wizzing above our heads at speeds we don't want to be in front of. I then say "he has a double barrel shotgun and after this next shot goes off I will give you the signal to run." I have no idea why I didn't pee my pants at this point in my life, but I sat prone for the longest time of my life. I can't even tell you the times of any of these events, but I lay there waiting. I was hoping he'd give us another shot and I was really hoping it'd be that of a shotgun so I knew he hadn't gotten a rifle or who knows what people in butt-fuck no where carry. Laws no longer matter when you are out here.

BAM! Shot two had rung out and I was right for the only time it has ever mattered in my life. It was another round of bbs. We heard similar sounds as before with the shots wizzing above our heads and bouncing off the rock in from of us. I whispered "run" to my friends and we all got up and ran the fastest our pre-pumped up hearts would carry us in the dark, hot summer night. In the background we heard "You fucking inbreed hillbilly fucks better not be coming near any of my land anymore you hear. I'm getting my dogs and coming out for ya." We were running so fast that my friend tried to jump the barbed wire fence and ended up slashing his calf. No one knew at the time we all just regrouped and spirited for our camp site. About four miles later we had reached what mentally was a safe spot for us. I started puking all over near a cactus and another friend of mine did as well. We weren't trained for this.


I can post some pictures of these snakes as well if that interests you guys.

Crazy shit, great read.

Sure I would like to see the snakes.
 
Damn, awesome story man.

I then have a conversation with my friends that was probably the most meaningful and respectful conversation of my entire life.

BAM! Shot two had rung out and I was right for the only time it has ever mattered in my life.



:bowdown:
 
1000508r.jpg

1000518w.jpg

1000522t.jpg


Here are a few pictures. Below is also a video that I feel bad posting because well it was a dick move on our part, but none the less this was a once in a lifetime.

http://www.mediafire.com/?fe9e9b5bei6bmkx