This was prompted by reading one of Shadowkahn's posts on the "Troll" thread. I went searching for his famous Mall Ninja and there he was or at least stories of his exploits. There are many but this one was kind of cool. I do not think this is the same guy but close enough.
Mall Ninja Stories (Or "There I was") Humor
The Firing Line Forum ^ | Various | Various
Posted on 07/22/2006 6:49:39 AM PDT by 5Madman2
03-20-2001, 09:50 PM
This story is true. Names and places has been changed to protect the truly asinine.
So no *****…there I was…
Friday night in the city. I met a friend of mine for dinner. We’ll call him Jack. Jack is an undercover Narcotics detective for a large metropolitan police department.
Jack and I always met after our respective shifts for a late meal at a little 24-hour restaurant downtown. The food was lousy, but the night cook made a decent cup of coffee, and the waitresses were nice.
We had both changed into jeans and T-shirts. We were both armed, as usual, he with his duty weapon, me with a sweet little .380 that was virtually unnoticeable.
Dinner was wolfed down. Neither one of us had eaten all day – there had been no time for that. I’d spent my shift running from one medical call to another. My partner’s driving habits made it impossible to eat on the go – there is no such thing as a smooth riding ambulance, no matter what the brass says. Jack’s day had gone about the same.
We paid the bill and sauntered out into the parking lot for a smoke. Jack’s car, a nondescript looking white 4-door sedan was backed up against a high cement wall at the rear of the lot, behind the restaurant. We talked for a long time, mostly about work and our pathetic love lives. The temperature dropped, and we climbed into Jack’s car to continue our *****-a-thon. Half an hour later, the world got a WHOLE lot stranger.
It all started with a jet-black SUV that came flying around the corner, as if the driver’s ass was fire and his hair was catchin’. The vehicle came bouncing into the parking lot and skidded to a stop nose to nose with Jack’s car. The high beams were on. Jack and I were momentarily blinded. I caught the “What in the HELL is all this?” look from Jack as the SUV’s driver side door swung open. Silhouetted by the headlights, we saw the shape of a man, dressed head-to-toe in black combat fatigues. His buzz cut head was covered with a black baseball cap. I could see Jack’s right hand move slowly to the gun holstered at his side. He gave me a “Be Ready” signal.
The ersatz storm trooper approached Jack’s car slowly, his movements a parody of every classic late night B grade kung fu flick. He was holding an obscenely large flashlight in one hand, and what appeared to be an ASP in the other. The dude was sporting an impressive duty rig. The thing had more gadgets and gizmos on it than Batman’s utility belt. The crown jewel was the HUMONGUS Desert Eagle .50 cal tucked into a three-way holster. I wasn’t too worried. By the time this Strange Ranger managed to get that monstrosity out of the holster, Jack would have already aerated him.
I was amazed Wonder Boy was even able to stand up; more amazed that the belt stayed on his thin hips. I was thinking it must take a dozen or more snap-type belt keepers to hold that thing in place.
“Don’t move and keep your hands where I can see them,” we heard Wonder Boy say through the open window. He had his flashlight right in Jack’s face.
Jack and I noticed the badge at the same time. It was clipped to Wonder Boy’s belt. It said “ARMED SECURITY OFFICER”.
I think Jack experienced a total neuro-synaptic meltdown at that moment. He started to laugh. He laughed like a complete lunatic. I started to get a little worried. Expressions of amusement for Jack normally consisted of a surprised grunt or a smile, at best. Hearing him laugh like that made me think that maybe ol’ Jacko had finally tripped the light fantastic.
Wonder Boy seemed unfazed. “We got a call back at Control about a suspicious vehicle.”
That made Jack laugh even harder. I think it was the way the guy stressed the word “Control”. Wonder Boy looked hurt. I could only sit and stare in bemused wonderment. Was this guy for REAL?
Jack, being the good-natured fellow that he is, chose not to deflate the wanna-be vigilante’s Big Moment. Not yet at least. So he decided to play along a little.
“So…uh…what’s the problem, officer?” Jack asked, forcing a wide-eyed “I didn’t do nothin’ wrong” look. I fought to keep a straight face and not ruin Jack’s fun.
“We got a call from an employee here about a suspicious car in the parking lot. Said it had been here for a while. Two unknown occupants. Might even be armed.”
“Oh really? WOW…might even be armed huh?” Jack was savoring his role.
“Yeah.” Wonder Boy looked confused.
“And what if they ARE armed?”
Wonder Boy paled. “Let me see some ID.”
“Oh, fine. Here.” Jack dug in his back pocket. Wonder Boy looked like he was about to drop a serious load. Jack smiled as he handed him his black leather bi-fold wallet. Wonder Boy took it and opened it. He looked at it for a very long time. Then he looked at Jack. Then back at the wallet. Then at me. I smiled and waved. I knew the sight of that gold shield and police ID card had just sent Wonder Boy’s blood pressure skyrocketing into the stratosphere. I almost felt sorry for him as he mumbled an apology. Almost, but not quite.
Jack checked the guy’s employment credentials: Wonder Boy worked for a company that had been hired by the restaurant owner to patrol the lot and discourage loitering. He then gave him a stern lecture about the illegality of his actions, from the illegal detention (he blocked our car with his own) to the stupidity of approaching a vehicle with “possibly armed occupants.” Wonder Boy looked positively destroyed. Jack promised not to report him to his supervisors on the condition that he brush up on local law regarding what he could and could not do. Wonder Boy thanked him profusely then scurried back to his truck. He drove off in the same manner in which he had approached.
I couldn’t stand it any more. I laughed. I laughed so hard I thought I was gonna piddle myself.
“I believe we just met The Mall Ninja’s older brother,” I said.
Jack gave me that “What in the Hell are you talking about, Red?” Look.
“Let me tell you a story I heard once…”
"The greatest way to live with honor in this world is to be what we pretend to be."