She agreed to everything but wouldn't commit to the cookies. I decided to see what happened there. I really was in the mood for cookies. Of course there was paperwork and of course it was somewhere else. Somewhere else this time was on the other side of the road. The gas pump was about a mile or so away at the airport. Much to my amusement it was called "Clinton Field." She didn't hesitate to tell me it was because this was Clinton County and that was why it was called that. When I came out of the office, not to my surprise, a group of uniforms were waiting me. Corn Fed of course was one of them.
I stopped on the wooden landing they had built for the door and looked at them. I waited for all of them to focus on me and then told them "Didn't you all forget something here?"
"What's that hot shot?" This from Corn Fed.
"We don't have any handicapped here except maybe you asshole." Corn Fed had pushed it to far. I knew he would. I sighed. I probably wasn't going to get my cookies now.
I walked down the two steps and kept going until I was standing a few paces away from Corn Fed. He had his color up again and I knew where he wanted to go with this. So I snap kicked him in the balls. As he doubled over from the pain I drew and whipped the Ruger upside his head. He went down. Then I scanned each one of them and said "You're going to need the ramp now."