Stan and I were out for a fun party and got home late. We fell asleep then shortly thereafter we were awoken by an hysterical dog. Stan went downstairs... as I anxiously awaited an update. It came in the form of, "Call the police! Someone is passed out on our front porch...."
This thrilled me actually because I have an itchy trigger finger for 9-1-1. Usually, Stan thinks I'm being over zealous by calling 9-1-1 so much.
Ambulance came - the unconscious man was alive, no ID, had drugs on him.
Stan said, he "shot him with the iPhone in his left hand instead of the .45 in his right. Felt the castle was safe given his condition." He asked them to run Hispanic Huckleberry Finn through their computer system... Nothing came up.
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