Shooting Industry: Fetch boy! Good dog! Go fetch! Whoa! Don't fetch!

In Sao Paulo, Brazil, Haraldo Mota wasn't really bothered by his dog's habit of bringing home odd bits of junk and dropping them at his master's feet. Chumbinho, a black and white mixed-ancestry mutt, was only trying to please his boss and have a little fun. Plus, occasionally, he fetched home something interesting or an item that sold for a few bucks. One day, Chumbinho's first run produced a serviceable bicycle wheel, followed a couple hours later by a nice, workable .22 revolver.

Mota was delighted and sent the dog out to fetch some more goodies. Hey, there could be some real money in this! But Mota wasn't prepared for the next "treat" Chumbinho dragged home. The dog pranced through the door with a rusty hand grenade firmly clenched in his teeth. Then when he spat it out on the floor, the grenade began to smoke, which is never a good sign with old rusty hand grenades.

Mota hurriedly evacuated his house. The bomb squad detonated the grenade in place, which couldn't have been very good for the decor in the living room. Nice doggy. Yes, such a nice doggy.

You'll Love The View

If you're worried about going to prison, you might want to avoid huge gray buildings with razor-wire-topped walls. Just ask David Ruppert.

Having already wrapped up one of two suspects in the robbery of an elderly lady at an ATM, Detective Jeffrey Shell of the West Manchester Township PD in Pennsylvania was checking-out known associates when he was tipped that Ruppert "might be visiting someone at the prison." A quick phone call confirmed that Ruppert, a possible suspect, was there visiting Robert Haley, the first dude charged in the robbery.

You know that "confidentiality" provision about prison visits? Well, it doesn't apply to criminals visiting criminals. Ruppert was there talking to Haley, trying to ensure Haley wouldn't "rat him out" as the second scumbag. As it turned out, Ruppert's visit was a nice pre-moving-in tour of his new residence. "And, over here we have the dining room..."

Very Un-Cool

If I was ever jailed for shooting some guy in a stupid revenge case, I'd want a different title in the newspapers and around the cellblock. Somehow, "The Wedgie Shooter" just ain't got no dignity.

When police in Southampton, Pa., caught up with the dummy who ambushed and shot his former pal. Eric Kassoway, the first thing they asked him was, predictably, why he did it? The one thing that seemed to be missing was a motive. Even the victim didn't have a clue.

Then Daniel Strouss revealed that deep, dark piece of information. "Cause he gave me a wedgie." Now, some of the investigating officers couldn't comprehend how getting a wedgie from a long-time friend justified shooting him twice, perforating an arm and a leg. So, Daniel illuminated them, "It was at a Phish concert."

Oh, now we all understand. Both these lads were attending a Phish concert -- yeah, that's a band you probably never heard of, either -- when Eric snuck up behind Daniel, reached inside the back of his pants, grabbed his skivvies, and yanked skyward. The Classic Wedgie. Ordinarily, delivering a Classic Wedgie by ambush would only rate a counterattack by tapioca-filled water balloon, or leaving a deceased mackerel under the seat of your assailant's Chevy Vega.

But when it's done at a Phish concert, well. Who could blame him?

Quick, Borrow A Bullet

Political brass hats attending a Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting in Queensland, Australia naturally assumed they were receiving the sharpest, tightest security possible. After all, Queen Elizabeth II and British Prime Minister Tony Blair were among those attending. Those 4,000 pistol-packing cops assigned to security must have been pretty impressive. Trouble is, many of them were armed with one bullet -- and many of them with none.

"How can the QPS (Queensland Police Service) run out of bullets?" asked the Queensland Police Union Journal.

It seems one result of Australia's draconian gun-control laws is it's extremely difficult for even law enforcement agencies to get ammunition. Queensland's politically-correct Superintendent Paul Stewart admitted the problem, but brushed it off as "a logistical challenge." Opposition Police Spokesman Jeff Sweeney felt a little differently about it. "The whole situation sounds like some macabre game of Russian roulette," he said.

Well, Barney Fife only needed one bullet, and he protected Mayberry for 20 seasons, didn't he?

Which Way Did They Go?

Joining the growing number of progressive, enlightened governments around the world determined to disarm the people "for their own safety," Uganda launched a confiscation and prosecution program in early 2002. They assured everyone it was just a coincidence that all the guns grabbed and "violators" imprisoned happened to be from the ethnic-minority Karimojong warriors.

One slight hitch occurred when 31 of these "enemies of the state" were marched out of prison to work the prison vegetable garden. They were shepherded by five highly-trained, extremely professional guards. Whilst the warriors were pulling weeds, a bunny rabbit leaped out of a bush and scampered away. All five guards jumped up and ran after the rabbit. In about 10 seconds, our 31 public enemies (a) realized they were all by their lonesome, unchained and unguarded, and (b) see (a). When the guards returned -- bunny-less, by the way -- surprise, surprise, the prisoners were nowhere to be found.

Lt. Colonel John Mulindwa explained why the prisoners had not been caught so far.

"The inmates took off in the opposite direction."

Dang those guys! If only they'd taken off in the same direction as the guards! Who would of thought?

A Fashion Statement

Cops in Jonesville, S.C., said the suspect got the opposite effect he was trying for when he pulled a stickup of the First Citizens Bank wearing a big white Easter-style hat and a pink floral dress. But then, they're assuming he was trying to be inconspicuous. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was trying to throw a dash of panache and haute couture into the drab and dreary world of armed robbery. Personally, I think that whole field of endeavor could benefit from some fresh costuming.

The guy was at least clean-shaven, witnesses said, so a five o'clock shadow didn't distract from the flounce of his ensemble. What a hick town Jonesville must be, because they didn't even comment on his shoes or purse, and you all know how important it is to accessorize.

But it seems all eyes were on his auto-pistol, anyway. Our cross-dressing bandit got their attention, and a sack full of loot before sashaying out the door. Despite all the attention, Big Fred drew in his getup, and immediate response from the Jonesville PD, the Union County Sheriff's Office, the FBI, the State Law Enforcement Division and videotapes, three weeks later he still hadn't been caught.

Hey, you go with what works. Next time it might be tap shoes and a tu-tu.