Years ago I worked in ghetto houses for some reason fixing up homes of welfare rats.
One home had three generations of leaches living there and a drug dealer son who drove a vette. Drug dealer had a pit bull that slept on the outside back porch. At one point, the dog got up and walked downstairs and ripped the legs off a stray dog in the backyard, then he went upstairs and back to sleep. The senior welfare rat started wailing that the dog was going to kill her future welfare rat babies, two young girls that junior welfare rat bore out of wedlock.
Being the compassionate guy that I was, I told her that her drug dealer son had a 22 rifle in his room and if it was loaded, we’d take care of the dog for her. We shot it and threw it in the dumpster.
Another heartwarming slum-lord story!
;)
You shot a drug dealer’s dog??? I’m impressed!
I take it your work at that place was finished when you did the deed...