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There’s no way to discuss gun violence and policing in America without starting an argument – or, at the very least, making a table full of people uncomfortable. That said, I think we’ve all encountered one of those “bad apples” in our day, and hopefully lived to tell the tale.

When it comes to bad people and small towns, though, I’ve gotta say that I’ve never really felt as if the two mixed.

This man is an experienced gun owner, private security agent, and a bunch of other smart analytical stuff.

Get ready for a WILD ride!

Okay, so… after moving to a small town to support his wife’s career aspirations he spent some time fixing up the house and getting to know their neighbors – like most small towns, that was no small feat.

Bit of backstory: My wife inherited a house and land and begged me to move there. It was somewhere I knew wouldn’t have anything in either of my fields for employment, (physical security specialist and force-on-force analytics and planning) but she got a job offer in her field (wildlife management) at a salary that matched what we were currently making combined, along with an employment contract (rare in the US), control of her own team and insanely good benefits.

Since we have no children and I am the adaptable type and I could see this meant a lot to her, I agreed. We put our house up for sale and we moved there sight unseen. While I am use to and even fond of it now, this place was the land that time forgot, (literally horse and buggy country) and it quickly became clear that for awhile, she would have to be sole income while I brought our new property into the modern era.

The house literally had no plumbing, there was an outhouse and a manual well pump outside! We decided to buy a used house trailer, place it on the southernmost part of the property and live in it while I worked on the house. I am not from this area. And the culture shock was intense! My wife had family from there and would spend a few summers as a child with relatives so she understood the people better than me and being the same height and skin tone she was quickly accepted.

Meanwhile, standing 8″ minimum above everyone else and being so white I show up from outer space, I had a bit of a harder time, but managed to make some friends eventually. After some time getting everything updated we came in way under budget since I had decided to learn the skills and do all the work myself.

Like most small towns, his was struggling with a drug problem that led to a crime problem. Our OP saw an opportunity and set up shop, helping the locals learn how to defend themselves and provide security for their businesses.

He felt great, and like he was really making a difference.

He was also the place the local police went to certify/re-certify their firearms training.

It quickly became clear that while our immediate area was lovely, with good people and trusting neighbors, the surrounding counties had developed a meth/pill problem and with all the industries being strict on drug testing once heroin came onto the scene people were starting to make their way to our area for break-ins, carjacking’s and even a few cases of kidnapping for ransom. A couple senior citizens just outside of town were broken into and beaten then shot to death just for maybe $300 worth of jewelry a couple old guns and their pain meds.

Seeing a need in my community I used the leftover money we had and I bought land in B.F.E deemed unfit for development at a steal (soil lead levels were too high for housing/farming and too remote for commercial) and after getting permits/certifications and almost a year of doing all the building and earthworks myself while working a part-time hospital security job a county over, I started a security, self/home defense and firearms training company.

I created local jobs in the nearby counties by training armed guards beyond state standards, helped people develop a neighborhood watch program, offered neighborhood security patrols at cost, made sure local shops got cameras and had plans and training in place incase of a robbery and worked with individual households to develop their own home defense strategies along with offering concealed carry training, advanced firearm training, OC spray, trauma and first aid training and other things.

Somehow without meaning to, I managed to wedge myself into a unique position where I not only trained everyday people, but I got certified to be the guy that all police agencies in the region send their officers to for state recertification and further training. Turns out before I came along, they had to send their officers almost six hours north to a state facility, which meant that they also had to pay for a hotel room for anyone that went up there, as well as two meals and mileage if they didn’t drive a squad car.

Not to mention that the tactics taught didn’t always translate well to our area. I offered to do it for a bit less, and given my location, no hotels or anything else were needed. For the first time in my life, I feel like my work really matters, that I am making a positive difference for real people and I look forward to going into my job!

That meant that he knew most, if not all of the local police. He also knew that the officers in town had a close relationship with the locals, and that no one would stand for police mistreating anyone in town (or at all).

In my line of work, I have ended up knowing a lot of the police in my area pretty well, and can say that I even consider a few of them to be friends. The departments I work with get quite a few officers who are new or transfers from other areas as this region of my state has a pretty median average pay grade and a lot of officers use it as a stepping stone to get to the bigger paying areas or to get their first bit of experience and head to another state.

Now, the ones who have made a life here and decided to stay learned a long time ago that the locals here don’t take shit that isn’t fair lightly. The people here DEMAND justice come h**l or high water. In the past, corrupt officers have been hanged or beaten when the courts failed the citizens and didn’t punish officers for doing something heinous. (One shot an unarmed 12 year old and another let a drunk/drugged man die moaning in a cell after a K-9 unit literally ripped open his abdomen, and was heard laughing and joking about it. Both essentially got a long paid vacation and then went right back to work until someone caught up with them).

Even one former judge who got a slap on the wrist after being convicted of molesting three children went missing and was later found bound to a tree and was apparently set on fire while still alive, so the officers tend to do a really good job of weeding out the bad apples and reminding newcomers that they are there to help people and protect people, not harm or bully them which in my experience is not the case with all (or even most) offices in places I have lived before.

After having a chat with one of his officer friends he learned that was a new man in town, and not the sort that seemed as if he was really going to fit in well.

I was doing an armed guard gig during a night shift filling in for one of my employees who had a family emergency mid-shift when a police car spotted me on perimeter check and pulled into the lot to to see who I was (I wasn’t wearing a uniform) and the place I was guarding receives a lot of raw metals that they then melt into various alloys to be shipped off for use. It’s a crackheads dream looting spot with the way scrap prices can be for some of the materials there.

After figuring out it was me they decided to sit and BS for a bit. While talking with these officers, I listened to them share about a new hire who transferred from a larger city and they just know is going to cause trouble with the locals. They mention how he has that I-know-better-than-you attitude and thinks that the piece of metal on his chest means that he IS the law.

Apparently he had already raised a bit of a stink because he writes citations for things that no other officer in the department has (Driving with one hand, burnt out fog light, plastic being taped over a broken back window in a car, headlights not on in the middle or the day and it’s raining. He even tried to give a guy a DUI even though he was sitting in the car ON BLOCKS in his driveway and it had no rear axel). Apparently he speaks aggressively to anyone who dare interact with him if they aren’t a police officer and overall just act like a power tripping douche nozzle.

The other officers have noticed that the locals have changed their demeanor towards them and seem more distrusting since this guy started and they were genuinely worried that he would turn everyone against them. In the words of one of these officers, ” With everything in the news these days, and the whole nation already being distrusting of us I hope we can find something to set the b**tard straight before he ruins the rep we work so hard to keep here.

I like that people here will just come up and talk to me, it’s the main reason I stayed here.” We brainstormed for awhile about how to get through to Officer Douche and make him change his ways (or career), but eventually came up with nothing legal and had to go back to doing our respective jobs like adults.

Two weeks later he met him for himself, and nothing really changed his opinion.

Two weeks or so after having this chat, and hearing similar things for other officers I know, I get my first interaction with Officer Douche.

I don’t advertise my business on my work vehicle and it is completely unremarkable but all the officers I know can spot it somehow so I’ve gotten in the habit of waving anytime I pass a squad car. On my way to speak with a prospective client about a consultation for their home defense plan, this a$$-hat pulled me over for waving at him when we passed each other on a two lane highway.

He slammed his brakes on, whips around in the middle of the road and came flying up behind me so close I can’t see his headlights with flashing lights on and siren blaring. After enduring his frankly insulting lines of questioning with his hand ON his pistol grip about why I “felt the need to carry a gun” (in my state it is required by law that anyone with a CCW/CCL has to inform the officer) and him sharing his doubts that “99% of people probably wouldn’t even know how or be able to use it”, the goblin wrote me a citation for “reckless operation of a vehicle” stating that he was justified in doing so because he saw me remove my hand from the wheel.

Trying to be diplomatic I said, “I just figured that you would appreciate a friendly gesture from someone today, I know I like when someone gives me a friendly wave.” This absolute insult to humanity blows his gasket, gets in my face yelling at me and threatening to “haul my smarta$$ downtown and see how friendly I am when I am hooked up in the back of his car” says that if he felt like it he could “cost me more in impound fees and lost wages than I would make in a month” (he has no clue what I do or where I work) then asked what I “thought about that”.

At this point I have an internal battle with myself wanting to slam him to the ground and beat his skull open on the asphalt to see exactly how empty it was inside, but saner thoughts prevail and I simply handed him my lawyers business card and stated that any further interactions we had would have to go though her.

He looked at the card, called me a pu**y and told me to get out of his sight. Once I got moving in my car I realized exactly how angry he had made me. I have spent years learning to keep my emotions to a minimum since it could cost someone dearly in my line of work and this c**t was able to boil my blood in just a few minutes.

He wasn’t a big guy even for the area and he didn’t carry himself like someone who was confident if their skills. Being that aggressive and having his hand on his pistol grip for most of our interaction spoke volumes as to what kind of person he was.

What would happen if he pulled over someone who didn’t have my level of control and acted like that or worse? I decided that the officers I had talked to were defiantly not exaggerating and this d%*k was going to end up getting himself or someone else killed or hurt and something needed to be done about it.

He got his ticket overturned, but even after a chat with the sheriff, realized there was nothing that the law could really do about him.

First I went to court and showed my dash-cam video which got my citation dismissed. I took the rest of the audio and video to the Sheriff of the county he works for and showed it to him, then we had a long conversation. He agreed with my assessment of this guy, but said that he couldn’t really do much but reprimand him for it and admitted that he would love to just toss him out on his ass however he knew that the union would fight to prevent that and at best he would only be gone a few days to get some training that would most likely go entirely ignored.

He even cautioned me against filing against him because he figured the guy was the type to take it personal and he didn’t want to see anything happen to me. He promised he would do what he could to get rid of the cunt, but in most ways his hands were tied. I could tell he hoped that the guy would just move on and become someone else’s problem when his two years were up.

I couldn’t help thinking that if he’s causing this kind of trouble already, it is only a matter of time before someone around here loses it on this douche and swings at him. Then even though the cunt deserves to eat his own teeth at least, some poor guy will end up with his life ruined or worse. All because officer douche has a badge and likes to wag his dick beater.

Then, opportunity arrived right at his doorstep.

Feeling as though there was nothing more I could do, I went about my business as usual the next couple days. Then, guess who came through my door to schedule with me for their recertification!? He didn’t know me from Adam, and just swaggered about like he owned the place and crabbed about this “being a waste of his time” and a “bunch of bureaucratic bulls*%t”.

I had a real Kodak moment when I reminded him of our last interaction! He tried to excuse it as just being “by the book” and claimed that his “hands were tied” when it came to the citation and he only acted that way because I had a firearm and he “was nervous about that gun so he needed to assert his authority over the situation”.

By now, I had had a large portion of the people that live in my area come though for training and most of them carried daily. He just confirmed my fears for me, and I was going to do what only I could to lay those fears to rest.

The officer in question then proved, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was dangerous on a whole other level.

Que /prorevenge mode!

Already forming a plan, I told him that I understood completely, and that I “operate that way as well.” Not even processing how that could affect him, the dips*%t seemed glad to hear that and we sat down to get his paperwork started. The whole time we are doing this he is bragging and talking about how good a shot he is and that he “looks forward to the day someone wants to f**k around and find out” with him. (Hearing the was he thinks made me both sick and angry. Yes, I carry a gun for self defense, but I hope that I never have to use it. I spent years learning other techniques to lessen that chance after having to draw it once, and built a career teaching others what I have learned.)

After getting all the paperwork sorted and scheduling a time and date, he asked if he could use my range to get some practice shots in. I even waved my range fee just to see this POS shoot. After going over the range rules, I ran him out at target at 10 yards and signaled the lane hot. He fired all 17 rounds out of his mag at a RAPID pace and only manage to hit 5 on the target, only one of which was center mass!

He repeated this FOUR more times at varying distances and his best score ended up being at 5 yards out with only 10 shots on target of which 4 were center mass. I suggested he slow up his cadence a bit and asked if he wanted my advice. He told me he’s “forgot more than I ever knew and to shut my mouth”, so I did. Then he proceeded to run it out to 10 yards and shoot one at a time at a slow pace I usually only see from first timers and didn’t get a SINGLE hit center mass!

After seeing the 13 year old girl a few lanes down from him load up and absolutely DRILL headshots at 15 yards with my range-master instructing her, he made some excuse about needing his sights adjusted, then packed up and the brainless dude left thinking we were all buddy-buddy a few minuets later.

OP gave us a rundown of how he runs the re-certifications for law enforcement officers and what he expects from the local cops and others he trains.

The state certifications are a bit simple, so when I started doing this I met with local union lawyers, training officers and some reps for our area and we came up with a standard that surpasses the minimum state requirements, which they in turn used to negotiate better benefits, so everyone wins!

The standards we decided on not only test for accuracy, but also introduces a bit of real world problems that the officers have to contend with. The first is done in full duty gear with both hands on the gun at 10 yards. After running 25 yards, within two minutes, you have to be able to draw your gun from crouched cover, fire ten rounds, reload a magazine loaded by me with a false round randomly placed in it to cause a “malfunction”, clear that malfunction and get 10 more rounds on target from standing cover.

The second is the same drill in reverse, but done with only one hand on the gun and in under three minutes. In both of these drills 15 of the 20 shots must be within the #8 ring of the target and all rounds must hit the target. And the third is a dot torture drill that must be cleared at 90% within 10 minutes and you have 3 attempts at it.

It doesn’t sound too tough if you are an avid shooter, but trust me, under pressure, with your job in the balance, it can be rough.

He also explains why these tests are important, and how it can affect their careers, and also he’s usually nice and lenient with guys who are legitimately trying.

But we’re not going to do that here, obviously.

See, the policy around here is that the County pays for your first test and if an officer fails to re-certify then they either choose two weeks unpaid leave or sit at the office and do paperwork at reduced pay for two weeks then they have to pay out of pocket to try again. Of course, it is encouraged that they come to me for help, but being that I am not a charity some choose to practice on their own, which is fine.

If they fail a second time, the Sheriff can cut them loose without any issues from the union and the officer has to wait one year to even be considered for rehire or relocate to a different area that doesn’t have these standards or the Sheriff orders them to come to my training, and I work with them until we KNOW they will pass.

After that second failure, the officers job lies entirely in the hands of their boss. Being that these tests are a bit tasking for most shooters, and even though I log WAY more range time than any officer I know (helps when you own the range) and can still occasionally fail the dot torture drill, I will show mercy for most of them if they seem like a decent person who is just out of practice or nervous and not be an ass when it come to scoring if they are close to a failing score. (Counting line breaks as hits when I don’t have too, “forgetting” to hit the stopwatch button if their cadence is just a second or two slow).

I decided the moment he signed the papers that there would be no such mercy for this douche nozzle!

I fully expected for him to burn though ammo practicing at home after his last performance, and while I doubted anything was actually wrong with his sights I wasn’t willing to risk being wrong there when I had such a golden opportunity to do some true community service! I even bought a new set of digital calipers deciding that if he was so much as one tenth of an inch off on any shot placements at the line, I would mark them as a miss and prove I was just going “by the book”.

My mind was made up that since I couldn’t get this guy off the force completely, I would go “by the book” and at least get him off of any that were close to the people around me and he would have to preform like an absolute pro to avoid it.

The guy showed up to his test totally unprepared and acting like a jerk (again) and so OP felt justified in his righteous revenge plans.

The day finally comes where he is to test and he shows up wearing shorts and a TapOut tee shirt with only his gun and duty belt emptied of everything else. No vest, no range bag, no radio, no eye or ear protection, no cuffs, OC spray or Taser. Not a dang thing that he knew he was supposed to have. After pointing these issue out, he huffs and says “I brought everything that is important, let’s just get this s*%t over with.”

Mind you, I could have failed him right then and there for noncompliance. I had a copy of his signature on the paperwork stating he owned all required gear and would bring it with him for the test, and that he would be dressed to listed standards on testing day. But that just wouldn’t have been satisfying enough for me. I wanted to make absolutely sure that anyone who looked into it would see that he himself was the failure.

That this loud-mouthed bolstering jerk wasn’t fit to the standards of his peers and his mother should have swallowed him 25 years ago and done society a favor. Not that he failed due to circumstantial or bureaucratic bullshit beyond his control. I let the clothing slide and loaned him some rental safety gear, which he bitched about wearing but eventually put on. After getting it all sorted, and noting all this in his chart, I let him take his test, and damnit am I glad that I did!

And oh, he had a glorious reward for his patience and planning, my friends.

If he hadn’t made me see him for the feted piece of crap he is, I would have felt sad for him. As it stands, I worried I may develop muscle issues from holding back my grin! He failed the first test immediately due to sheer ineptitude! When the buzzer sounded, first he tripped over his own feet and ate the ground face first. Full scorpion! Then after getting up and continuing while drawing from crouch, he somehow managed to catch his front sight or barrel on his holster opening and sent his gun tumbling through the dirt, then fell over when he tried to lean over to get it. Losing control of the firearm is an instant test stop, so I sounded the buzzer.

Holding back laughter (and putting on my plate carrier instead of just a level 3 vest incase the fool fired a random round my way), I gave him a second chance even though I already had what I needed. (mostly because I wanted to have irrefutable proof he failed on his skills and not on accidental circumstances). While he managed to keep hold of it this time, he struggled to clear the misfire costing him too much time for his slow cadence earlier and only two shots were in the #8 and four completely missed the target!

For the first time ever for me someone had failed the first test on all three metrics! I have had people come to me for the first time they held a gun or with a legitimate fear of guns who could out preform this arrogant pos! After listening to him try to make excuses, crab, demand and then beg for me to give him another chance, I told him that I couldn’t and he failed. That my report was getting sent in and he would have to talk to his training officer and we could go from there.

Then, my friends, a fight ensued.

He EXPLODED in anger and started calling me anything he could think of. Claiming I was only doing this because of the ticket he gave me (part of why I wanted so much proof). And cursing me in some honestly creative ways while slamming his fist into my wall like a petulant tween and telling me that he was going to “make sure you all regret this” while pointing at me and my staff in the other room.

By now a couple of my regulars, my rangemaster and the local brass goblin have all made it over to watch though the window and listen to the exchange. Knowing I have him on camera with audio punching a hole in my wall, and I have witnesses, a new thought came to me when I heard him say this. And I decided to steer him just the way I wanted him to go.

All I had to do was ask if what he said was a threat, and the dips*%t responded with “you bet your f**king a$$ it is!” and, to my surprise, reached out to give me a shove! I side-stepped him and he stumbled past which pissed him off even further. I told him then and there to “get the f**k off my property and that he wasn’t welcome back.” I looked this sack of s*%t straight in the eye and informed him that he “just sealed his fate since now he would have to BEG to be sent to the other facility and I would make certain my report recommended he never work as an officer again, and should they ignore my advice I would be raising my prices to better reflect the training they get here.”

He then decided to spit at me and swing a punch this time! Not one to miss an opportunity, and easily outweighing him by 50-60lbs, I raised my guard and the moment his arm made contact with my mine I used his momentum and my muscle to send him over my shoulder and directly into the ground with all I could muster! I channeled my ancestors and the ancient gods of their homeland into that throw fully intending to leave a Wile E. Coyote-esque crater in my floor.

Rolling him to his back and sitting atop him in full mount position I watched a wanna-be badass try to remember how to breathe after meeting the ground that hard and immediately cry like a bitch beg for his life when he looked past me to see my rangemaster (310lb 6’6″ tatted-up retired Marine turned bodybuilder) with our less-lethal training shotgun (the gun is BRIGHT green, kinda unmistakable as less-lethal) in one hand leveled to officer bitch-mades head and his phone in the other already talking to the kid’s boss.

Apparently, my rangemaster had been watching everything from his office on the security feed and when Officer Douche started punching the walls my boy immediately picked up the phone and called the sheriff grabbing the shotgun on his way out the door to us.

When all was said and done, I got to watch him get hauled off my property by his boss, in cuffs and read his rights since, yes, I will be pressing charges. He assaulted me, threatened me and my employees, and damaged my property. And I had all the evidence I need to prove it!

Not only did OP win the day, he found out that he’d hired the right man to have his back, too.

Later, when I asked my rangemaster why he had brought the gun into play, since the guy wasn’t really a threat he reluctantly told me he had brought it for me! Apparently, in all the time we had known each other, he had never seen me actually come unglued like that.

He said, “Boss, you are the kindest and quietest man I know. And in my experience when a man like you gets that angry even the devil himself would piss his pants to get away.” He admitted that his plan was to nail me with a beanbag or two if he needed and try to turn my attention to him!

Not going to lie, I wasn’t happy to know I had made my friend feel that way, but it did feel good in an odd way to have a certified bad-ass feel like he needed that tool to stand against me. I gave the man a raise for his honesty, and willingness to protect others, no matter the cost to himself. After all, that’s a rare quality anymore, and it should be rewarded.

And to this day I refuse to spar with him because I never want him to 100% know he could take me without it!

It’s not a totally happy ending, but it’s probably the best we can expect these days.

Despite all the evidence and testimony against him, Officer Douche ended up getting a pretty good plea deal, but he will never be able to be a police officer or legally own a firearm again, so I consider it a win. His wife filed for divorce for domestic violence while he was awaiting his court date and thankfully they had no children together so it was granted without issue and he has no rights to see her son.

He moved away immediately after his hearing, and last I had heard, he makes minimum wage working at a gas station somewhere up north.

What do you think? Did he go overboard? Do you think there’s ever a reason for grown men to fight?

Sound off in the comments!


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