Another Big John story

Warning! This one is very, very vile.

I went by the Gunshop last night and found Uncle Goob there, we got to talking about silly stuff and the topic of Big John (he of Evil Cannon fame) came up. Now, as I've mentioned before Big John is a good guy, but his elevator don't go all the way to the top. And although he is a good guy, there was this one kid what used to do Artillery with them at Nameless National Park that John loved to torment.

Now I like to aggravate people myself, but for some reason John had a meanstreak when it came to this kid.

What started this whole unfortunate chain of events was John being an ass to this kid. One summer day, whilst working out at Nameless National Park John caught the kid in the porta-a-john and commenced to rocking it. Now John is a bog ole boy. At the time he was about six-three and would field dress about two-fifty. Needless to say, when grabbed aholt of something, it moved. He came pretty close to turning the port-a-john over with the kid in it.

Of course this didn't sit well with the kid and he vowed revenge.

Since he was about half Johns' size and a whole lot smarter, he knew better than to mess with him in a physical sense, so he bided his time and waited for a chance.

This came later that summer at Another Nameless National Park where they had went to do Artillery demonstrations.

John was being his usual A-hole self, bossing the kid around and just generally being a jackass, when he decides that he'll make the kid fetch and carry for him. It was a very hot day, made worse by the wool uniforms. Big John told the kid "go get me some gatorade!" and throws him his tin cup. (This cup in question was one of those big ugly things that holds about a quart)

The kid told him to go jump in the river...

and then the light bulb went on.

"ok, I'll go get you some gatorade."

He came back a few minutes later and hands Big John the cup, which John promptly turned up and drained about half of it.

"This tastes kinda funny."

Yes, this story is going exactly where you think it's going....




"That's because I pissed in it."

"No you didn't."

John didn't believe him... at first.

When the realization struck him that his "gatorade" was in truth "urinade" he would've killed the kid if he could've caught him.

The other guys finally got John to calm down, but it took all of 'em to keep him from killing the kid.

One thing about it, he'd learned his lesson about picking on people.

This happened nearly twenty years ago and we still give him hell about it. The fact that he realized that he'd brought it on himself is what I think cured him of his evil ways. As I said, his elevator don't go all the way to the top, but when an idea finally gets into the morass he calls a brain, it takes root.

As for the kid, he was fairly smart, so he moved on to safer climes where he didn't have to worry about John taking an axe handle to him in his sleep.

Welcome Possumblog readers!

Terry evidently got a kick out of this story. I told him if I'd known he would enjoy it that much I'd have done a better job writing it. I do have a confession to make; Sadly, this incident took place before I joined the unit and although I've heard the story for years (and given John grief about it) I wasn't actually there when it happened. Uncle Goob refreshed my memory the other night and added a few Big John stories of his own. At least one of which of was also bathroom-related. I may tell it at a later date...

Thanks for stopping by.