Tactical Tommy Guards the Mall

So there I was, pinning on my mall security badge. I knew that at that moment, I had reached the pinnacle of my calling, to "protect and serve" or as my company motto says, to "evade and report". I had just received my official state security commission which allowed me to be armed; I was now part of the ELITE of mall security. As I holstered “Excaliber”, my Stainless Glock 21 in .45 ACP I took a moment to appreciate the gold filigree inlay that had been expertly applied by a blind Austrian jeweler whose life had been devoted to bringing Glock to the forefront of functional art.  With this weapon upon my hip I knew that if it got hairy out there I would be ready. I placed my Benchmade tactical automatic knife which had been honed to a razors edge by Honduran Bushmen into my pocket where I knew it would be ready at a moments notice.

I mounted my 2 wheeled Segway which had the full “police package”, lights, siren, performance brakes and suspension and of course I secretly removed the “governor” so that I could get that extra kick of horsepower when I really needed it.  This thing was two wheels of silent rolling retribution. As I cruised my beat that afternoon I received a radio dispatch of possible loitering in the food court. I quickly stepped into the Men's room and press checked my .45 Glock 21 ensuring it was stoked with 10 uranium depleted Hornady Tactical Elephant Dissolvers with one extra round in the chamber "just in case".

I then responded to the scene of the crime just in time to witness at least 3 fourteen year old male suspects. I placed my hand on my gun and returned the biggest teens menacing glare. As I approached the ringleader, I noticed a movement, out of the corner of my eye. My advanced security training immediately screamed "AMBUSH". My 2 hours of video instruction kicked in like a well oiled machine.

I whipped my ASP baton out just as I began to spin and meet the threat but the clever teenagers had strategically placed a spilled coke underneath my feet, so I lost my footing and landed flat on my back, my level three armored plate absorbing most of the impact. I was prepared for such an attack however, and even though my baton went flying 15 feet away and the wind was knocked out of me, my warrior instincts had polished me into an unflinching justice machine and I recovered quickly using my inhaler only twice. I quickly rolled to my right getting to my knees and dove for cover in the water fountain. I went for my mace, but the water on my Oakley replica sunglasses obscured my vision so I depressed the cap and shot a burst of mace directly into my own face.  I have been maced before so I knew how to handle it. I ran in a circle screaming so as to confuse the opposition and then threw myself prone into a middle aged woman’s lap who was sitting in a booth. I knew at that moment that she would provide a body shield for any attacks that may occur. As I ordered her to stand in front of me, I reassured her of my abilities by showing her how a true professional can take a knee to the groin…twice.

As I writhed in pain on the ground, it would have appeared to the untrained eye that had lost control of my bladder. But in reality, this is a clever ruse to lure the predator to the trap.  As onlookers approached in curiosity I sprang the trap and leapt to a crouched position running to retrieve my ASP baton. I could see my human shield running away from my position bravely distracting the teenagers from my movements. I then picked my ASP baton up and whipped it into a semi-arc and with all the vengeance I could muster, I knocked my sunglasses right at the leading perp in a display of deft ability and superior training but he was not to be dismayed and held his ground. 

It was time, I had trained for this moment for all my life…well…actually more like 4 hours and a multiple choice test but still, this was the moment I had anticipated with both dread and trepidation.  I dropped my baton and went for the Glock; it was “go” time.  My level 3 retention holster was the best money could buy, made by the same company that built the Fort Knox gold safe combination lock, unfortunately I was distracted and unable to perform the correct sequence of movements necessary to draw my gun from it.  I couldn’t remember the sequence, was it “down, left, right, wiggle the pinky finger” or was it “down, left, right, wiggle the index finger”?  In all the confusion I began losing precious initiative.  I was prepared for just such an occasion however I heaved my weight into the gun butt, intent on ripping it free from the leather.  Unfortunately this process caused my holster to strike the automatic knife in my pocket which then deployed into my thigh. The stabbing pain only heightened my awareness to the dangers I now faced.  Though I did not successfully remove the gun from the holster I did manage to tactically tear my belt loops free from my uniform pants causing them to drop around my ankles.  I was able to kick the pants free and turn the situation to my advantage as I could now move like a mall security cheetah, unencumbered by the restrictive polyester material.  I deftly leapt towards my baton still lying on the ground I snatched it up, wielding it menacingly, like a steely phallic symbol of justice.


Somehow, possibly through the mastery of a rare Bulgarian version of Thai Chi, the perp managed to evade my baton strike in such a manner as to cause me to strike the bridge my own nose with the tip of my baton. I knew at that point I had met my match but I wouldn’t give in, I followed the Sun Tzu strategy of winning using the offering of “no target” by quickly passing out.  Upon my awakening I was in an ambulance, wearing a straight jacket which had been cunningly placed upon me during my tactical nap.   To my deft opponent touché’ whoever you are.

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictitious; any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental and hilarious.