Committee checks militia statusIt was more than cold as the town’s 13 electors gathered in the cavernous unheated community hall for an emergency meeting of the Homeland Security Committee, called pursuant to orders issued by the mayor.
By: Lloyd Omdahl, The Dickinson Press
It was more than cold as the town’s 13 electors gathered in the cavernous unheated community hall for an emergency meeting of the Homeland Security Committee, called pursuant to orders issued by the mayor.
Committee Chairman Ork Dorken opened the meeting by pounding a Coke bottle on his table as the last stragglers found themselves adjusting to the cold steel folding chairs. As soon as they were seated, he read the mayor’s declaration.
“Whereas, the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution provides that a well-regulated militia is necessary for a free state, the Community Homeland Security Committee shall assess the status of our militia and inventory the ordinance.
“I hope you all brought your arms and defensive weapons so we can do this inventory quickly,” Ork added.
“Does this mean that we have to register guns?” Einar Danske asked impetuously.
“No, we’re going to make a list of all of our defensive weapons,” Ork replied. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No! No!” replied Einar. “I don’t have guns. I’m just a defenseless pacifist living the Christian life.”
“Chief Security Officer Garvey Erfald is going to make up the list,” Ork continued. “So step right up. Who’s first?”
“I’ll be first,” announced Madeleine Morgan as she sauntered over to Garvey’s table brandishing a pistol. “My Ex took the guns but I got this revolver and he knows I have this revolver. I’m glad he knows I have this revolver. In fact, I don’t mind if everybody knows I have this revolver.”
“Have you ever fired this thing?” Garvey asked as he looked the weapon over. “It has only four bullets.”
“Well, last winter, a skunk came prowling around so I whipped out the revolver and fired twice and the skunk fired once,” she explained. ”Consequently, I think you should register the skunk instead of the revolver.”
Just then Josh Dvorchek strutted up.
“What is that thing? Drain pipe?” queried Garvey.
“No, it’s a bazooka — an anti-tank weapon my cousin brought back from the war as a souvenir,” Josh explained.
“The only problem is that ammunition is hard to come by. Maybe I could get some on Amazon. It sure would be handy if terrorists come in tanks.”
“I’ve got something worthwhile — a 20-gauge shotgun,” Little Jimmy announced.
Jimmy was majoring in petroleum engineering online but was using January for a two-credit practicum in wildlife management. He shot 16 rabbits so far.
“Does that little shotgun have any power?” Garvey asked dubiously.
“It’ll make a 3-inch hole in a plaster wall,” Jimmy replied.
“How do you know that?” Garvey asked.
“Because I have a 3-inch hole in my kitchen wall,” Jimmy responded without flinching.
“I have this .22-caliber single shot,” Old Sievert declared. “My dad bought it from the Sears catalogue in 1932. The sighting is off so it’s kind of dangerous.”
“What happened?” Garvey asked.
“Well, I was aiming at this rabbit in the garden and killed my neighbor’s cat stalking a gopher nearby,” Sievert explained.
“Anybody else have any weapons?” Garvey asked.
“Looks to me like we have enough stuff for our militia to protect us from outsiders,” Josh snickered.
“But who’s going to protect us from the insiders?” added Orville Jordan, the retired depot agent.
“Enough already,” chided Chairperson Ork. “The inventory is complete and the Second Amendment is safe. Meeting is adjourned.”
Tugging at scarves, the electors headed out into the cold northwest wind, another great meeting behind them.