It took only fifteen minutes to get there, but they were both feeling a little weak, which meant a trip to Dairy Queen for sugar replenishment. On the way there, a fat, toothless redneck in a rust-covered Datsun pickup cut them off and pulled into a gas station. Mr. Blue retaliated with a friendly, "You stupid motherf**ker!" and flipped him off. This is bad.
The fat redneck returned the favor. He followed them all the way across town and through a Safeway parking lot. Just before Blue and Red pulled back onto the highway, the redneck parked next to them and said words that even Mr. Red didn't know existed. Although they did nothing at the time, Mr. Blue caught the parts of the rant where the redneck said he would, and I quote, "Rip your ass apart", Mr. Blue thought that was just plain rude. He pulled out his cell phone and made an emergency call to Mr. Orange.
The plan: Mr. Orange will plant a small amount of C-4 on the redneck's truck and kiss his beer-filled ass good-bye.
(Mr. Red got the trucks plate numbers. Later that night.)
7:34 P.M.: Mr. White runs a check on the plate on a government website. His name is Wilbur McJackson. White finds the location of Redneck McJackson. Mr. Orange and Mr. Blue leave for the house.
8:13 P.M.: Orange and Blue arrive at the house.
8:15 P.M.: Orange crawls over to the truck and sticks a small package of C-4 plastic explosive under the cab. Wires run from the explosive to the ignition wiring. When the truck starts, so does the C-4.
(The next morning)
7:52 A.M.: Redneck McJackson leaves the house for an emergency beer and beef jerky run.
7:53 A.M.: Nothing is left of McJackson but a smoldering crater that smells oddly like Bud Light and soy sauce.
Orange and Blue leave the scene of the crime untouched, but only because McJackson lived beyond any area of human contact in the middle of the forest in a shack held together by duct tape and plastic wrap. They regrouped with the others and, since it was still early, got breakfast at Burger King.