TRP - Pub-Crawl ~ Chief Hassle too-plus

Stevie Ray Vaughn & Dick Dale : Pipeline : playz.... Pleased to be sporting my new Satchel on the way back to the Gondola Dock,Cassie gasped,"SHIT"!,a split second before a hammering Kidney Punch landed on my Kevlar Vest that sent me stumbling forward. A yelping screech of pain drew a multitude of eyes to the scene as I rounded to defend myself with raised fists; Wearing a stringent grimace,the grisly old Chief who'd confronted me after the Honor Guard's Dress Rehearsal was cradling his right hand in the left. Shifting into a slow back-pedal,he gruffly goaded me,"Well,what'cha gonna do now,Faggot"? I lowered my fists,scooped up my Jester Cap and plopped it back on my head at a jaunty angle,"I'm not gonna DO anything,Chief..But laugh as I imagine your busted hand wrestling with the wheel of that Winnebago all the way back to Arkansas",then resumed my stroll. "DON'T TURN YOUR FUCKIN' BACK ON ME,FAGGOT"!!,the malignant Squid bellowed at the top of his lungs,resulting in a chorus of Boos & other sounds of disapproval from those waiting in line for the Wine Cellar and the crowd,in-general; Quieted when he was swiftly apprehended by a pair of Plain-Clothes Disney Security Guards. // Foster had a knack for striking poses that reminded me of William Shatner's Over-Dramatic Acting Style. Crowe had called him in along with the Orange County Sheriffs when he delivered a solid,no-nonsense briefing containing Video-Taped evidence that I had been Ambushed. True to my word,I had done nothing to strike back at the self-destructive Master-Chief,refusing to sign onto the Complaint Disney Filed against him. It wasn't from any sense of Kindness; I didn't want the persistent,Sucker-Punching Geezer to have my Name,or Address. Foster didn't want to put on Civilian clothes and mingle with our Pub-Crawl,but Crowe thought it might be useful to have a second 'Arbitrator' in-case our cheerfully Buzzed Revels and/or my Shit Magnet attracted the Ire of any among the Great-Multitude of Grumpy Touristas baking their patience in the Midday Sun. Foster was convinced the Law-of-Averages stood Grossly in-favor of Assholes and made an unsuccessful bid for his Boss to Bar us from Consuming any more Alcohol...But we'd done Nothing Disney Knew About to warrant it.(Becky steered us to the Gondola Dock because it was not covered by Security Cameras.)..... (Currently Watching On DVD : Hotel Transylvania) 
Topics: Incredastory, Mature