Which story is better?

The 500, the Marine and the Comic

In the audience five hundred enlisted military were drinking. Off-hours at the air force base was a rowdy time for them.The solitary stand-up comedian on stage was growing anxious.

“You talk about scary. It wasn’t the time for me to put people down. But that’s my act.”

“A drunk guy–really drunk–makes his way up though the audience . He’s yelling from the back as he’s walking up. And I’m saying stuff back to him, which is pissing him off. The audience is loving it. The stuff I’m saying is about the size of his dick, among other things. I’m playing to the audience, saying the things I think will insult him enough that he’ll go, ‘OK, you win.’ that’s really what they want, to be put in their place. “

The drunk approaches the stage and shouts, “I’M A MARINE! I’M A MARINE!”

“That’s the last thing I want. I’m not a Marine, but if I had had a gun at that moment, I would have taken it out and used it.”

The drunken Marine moves toward the comedian.

Suddenly a man in the audience rises.

“He was a little guy, and I mean a foot shorter than this guy. But he bars the way, stops this guy. I was amazed. And he stopped him without throwing a punch. It was David and Goliath. Unbelievable! The guy takes a swing at him, but this little guy just kind of ducked, and started propelling the drunk out of the room.”

Afterwards the comedian bought his defender a drink, gave him a hug, and praised him to the audience.

“They gave him a standing ovation, this little guy. He was a master sergeant, so he was probably just very clear that he could handle this situation. He handled it. I couldn’t believe it.”

The Hostage Who Wouldn’t Shut Up

I was on one hostage case who had gun to his girlfriend’s head and never let it go. Every once in a while he would drop it. Each time I would get him to the point of putting down his gun and coming out, she would start saying something. She had to get the last word in. He’d get crazy and the gun was back again. She did this for hours.

I was in the apartment next door on the phone and he wouldn’t let me talk to her.

About fourteen hours later he said, “Why do you want to talk with her?”

I said, “I just want to make sure she’s alright.”

He said, “Alright.”

She finally got on the phone. I said to her, “This is the police.”

She said, “Yeah?”

I said, “What is wrong with you! Shut up!”

“But he said…”

“I don’t care!” I was screaming. We’re not suposed to lose control like that, but I was screaming at her. “I don’t care what he said! Agree with anything he says! The idea is to get you and your child out of that apartment!”

“But he said…”

When she said that to me, I gott more crazy, and started just screaming at her. Finally, she started crying. It shook me that I lost control there. I backed down.

I said, “I’m sorry. Let’s agree with anything he says, because we’re not going to let him do all this stuff. Just agree so we can get him out.”

He put the gun down and started talking about coming out, saying, “When I get her, I’m going to do this.”

And she’d start, “No you’re not!” And then the fight would start all over again.

I finally talked him into coming out. Coming out came be very dangerous.

I told him that day, “you have to listen to everything I tell you to do. You can’t deviate because there are so many cops out in this hall and they all have guns.”

When they come out they can often seem quite calm, but when they see weapons all over they freak.

She just kept with the mouth. By the time this guy came out 14 hours had passed since it started. When he did I was screaming final instructions. We were in a housing project. -I knew on the phone he was mad at me the whole last hour.

He came out backwards, like I instructed. They handcuffed him. When he turned around he gave me such a violent look. I touched his arm, told him everything was going to be alright. He pulled away. He was MAD!


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