People of Interest:
(This list is a bit hard to follow because of the long names. This chart : http://www.businessinsider.com/a-whos-who-of-the-saudi-royal-family-2015-2 will help you clarify who is who.)
King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud (King Saud. Deceased) : King of Saudi Arabia (1932-1953)
King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Deceased) : 5th son of King Saud. King of Saudi Arabia until his death in 2015. Successor is King Salman
Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth King Salman): Current King of Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA). 8th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud.
Mohammad bin Salman (Henceforth Crown Prince Mohammad): Son of King Salman. Currently next in line to be king after King Salman.
Muqrin bin Abdulaziz (Former Deputy Crown Prince. Henceforth Muqrin) : 9th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud. Was next in line to be king if King Salman had died before being crowned king. IS THE FATHER OF Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud! THE MAN KILLED IN THE HELICOPTOR CRASH ON 11/5/2017.
Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth Mansour) : Son of Muqrin bin Abdulaziz. Died 11/5/2017, the day of the failed coup on the throne of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
Alwaleed bin Talal (Henceforth Talal) : Billionaire businessmen. Grandson of King Saud. Has ties to DNC, Clinton, Podesta. Arrested 11/4/2017 for corruption. Owns The Four Seasons at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas (Four Seasons occupy the top floors of Mandalay Bay) Owns shares in Twitter as well as other high-tech silicon valley companies. Has had spats with Trump in the past.
I know that's a mouthful of names, but bear with me. Just remember 4 names: Salman, Mohammad, Muqrin, and Mansour.
Do you remember how President Trump visited Saudi Arabia back in May of 2017? Do you remember how warmly he was greeted by King Salman? I do. It was a spectacle. Why was he greeted so welcomingly? After all, President Obama's reception was... shall we say, less than grand. Do you remember how after Trump's visit, Saudi Arabia started becoming more open in their policies? Women can drive there now. Did you notice how the Syrian rebellion became quiet? Did you notice how quickly ISIS was crushed after the visit? Why did Saudi Arabia suddenly want to get their oil companies listed on the NYSE? What could have caused this?
To answer this, we have to look a little further back. Back to around 2010.
It all goes back to fracking. You see, the Kindom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) has always relied heavily on its vast petrol reserves for wealth and prosperity. And they were ruthless. OPEC. The cartel of gasoline. You can't count the number of times throughout history that OPEC used its power to crush governments, manipulate prices, control supplies, and fund activities. If there ever was a international group of bullies, OPEC was it. And at the head of this organization was the mighty KSA.
Then came the fracking boom. Suddenly, the world was no longer at the mercy of OPEC. This made them nervous. So, they did what they always do. They pumped out more petroleum, driving the price of gas to lowest in decades. What was their objective? To bankrupt these fracking businesses. KSA is rich. Very rich. They figured, we'll just drive gas prices unbelievably low and take the loss until all these fracking business startups crumble. Do you remember how cheap gas got between 2013-2016? It was ridiculous, wasn't it? But what they didn't count on was just how cheap fracking had become. So many of these business didn't go bankrupt. So they took another step. To convince the world that fracking was bad for the environment. So they lobbied and supplied funds to the Democratic party. Why? Because the leftist are usually the ones who support ANY and ALL environmental regulations. Do you remember all the legal battles that fracking had to go through? Hell, it's still illegal in most blue states. Do you now understand why the Saudis donated so much money to the Clinton campaign? She was HEAVILY favored to win and if she did, you can bet your ass that illegalizing fracking would have been on the top of her list, returning us to dependence on arab oil. But... this didn't work either. Fracking continued. And then, a shitstorm of reality hit them hard.
You see, KSA had vastly underestimated the amount of total shale reserves in North America. They had no idea that so much of this stuff exists. They thought maybe they could ride it out if the reserves would dry up in a decade or so. But nope. We have enough shale to supply us for at least 50 years. Hmmm... big problem.
So, if you're King Salman, what do you do? Well, there's only one thing you can do. Give up the reliance on oil production and try to use existing wealth to stay wealthy. To modernize its trade to include more than just exports of oil. They would need to build an entire industrial country from scratch. To do that, he needed the help of the USA. And that's where President Trump comes in.
You see, the May 2017 meeting between Trump and King Salman (and his son Mohammad), was not just another meeting. It was a business meeting. King Salman asked Trump for help. Trump was more than willing to give it (like listing the oil companies on the NYSE) but his help would come with a price. Liberalization and the stop of illegal funding. No more contributions to American politics. No more supplying funds to terrorists or splinter groups. King Salman took the deal. All of a sudden, women were allowed to drive. ISIS was retreating. Syrian rebels suddenly ran out of ammunition. Yay. All good up to this point.
Now comes the bad
Not all the royalties in KSA are into this. They don't like losing the power they once had. What's worse, they don't want to become liberal. They now start resenting King Salmon. They start plotting against him. At the forefront of this movement is none other than the previous Deputy Crown Prince, Muqrin, and his son, Mansour (the man killed in the helicopter crash of 11/5/17).
October 1, 2017. The top floors of Mandalay Bay isn't Mandalay Bay, but is Four Seasons, owned by billionaire Talal. Who was occupying that whole floor that night? I can't remember where, but I heard that the whole floor was reserved for that week. Now, no one would do that unless they were Saudi royalty. We don't know for sure, but my guess is Crown Prince Mohammad. We know it wasn't King Salman, because he was in Russia at the time. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/oct/05/saudi-russia-visit-putin-oil-middle-east
The plan is to take out the crown prince. Then kill King Salman. With the King and the Crown Prince dead, who is next in line? Yup. The former deputy crown prince, Muqrin. So, posing as terrorists who wanted to buy the guns for some terrorist attack, they dupe the CIA or FBI to supply the guns to the death squad. Their real plan is to climb the stairs right after the deal and kill the VIP in the floors above them. This is why the weapons cashe was located on the 32nd floor. They would only have to climb a few stairs or take the elevator up a little to start the killing. Now, here's what happened that night:
Paddock is the contact man to supply the guns. He meets a couple of assassins ahead of time (remember, the shooting starts at 10:05). At this point, Paddock is thinking this is a gun deal. Only a few magazines are loaded. He merely wants to show the customers how to load the chamber etc... What he doesn't know is that the advance team was sent to secure the floor. That all but one entry point to the floor would be barricaded (crucial since the reason Campos becomes suspicious of the blocked doors is what ultimately leads him to investigate) The reason for the barricade is that once the assault starts, the assassins want to make sure to impede the authorities as much as possible from reaching the top floors.
2. CIA/FBI (or Trump's own intelligence) got wind of the assassination that was about to take place. Immediate action is taken to round up the assassins. Remember, we're talking about an army of assassins here. You can't kill a Crown Prince who's protected by 30 armed bodyguards by pulling a Jack Ruby. I estimate at least 20 assassins in total.
3. What the assassins didn't know was that the prince had disguised himself as a regular dude to enjoy the nightlife in Vegas. (Saudi princes have been known to do this) He had slipped away from the Mandalay and was at the Tropicana playing some cards. As soon as the FBI (or some other agency) learned of the assassination plot, they stormed the Tropicana and extracted the prince. The video can be seen here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVHmshtmDqo They lead him out of the casino and escort him to the nearest helipad to be picked up. BUT, on the way, they encounter some resistance from a few assassins. Hence the firefight at the airport. Eventually, he makes it to the chopper and is whisked away.
4. Meanwhile, the FBI has gathered up as many of the assassins as they can. A few are armed with sidearms. They don't have rifles yet because the rendezvous with Paddock hasn't occurred yet. Hence the random firefights at various casinos that night. A few are killed. Hence the Laura Loomer videos of covered up dead people. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oxAZIpSUuM
5. The assassins already in Paddock's room gets a call. They are told that the Prince is not in his suite above. That he's being escorted out of the Tropicana. They start panicking. If they get caught in this plot to assassinate the crown prince, not only are they dead, but their employer is dead as well. They come up with a plan. They will kill Paddock and start firing on the crowd below. They're gonna make him a crazy lone gunman. So they kill Paddock. They break a window. They pick up a rifle and start firing at the crowd below. After a couple of mags, they realize that the other mags aren't loaded! Holy fuck. They start reloading as fast as possible. This is why the average time between bursts of fire is over 40 seconds. One of them gets an idea. Let me go to the other room and break that window and shoot at the fuel tanks at a nearby airport. This will draw the police away from the Mandalay and they can escape. So he goes and attempts just that. Unfortunately, the tanks do not blow up. By this time, Jesus Campos is knocking on the door. So they just unload on him. This is why there are (supposedly) 200 shots through the door. Campos escapes a lethal shot and calls in security.
6. Now the assassins are getting nervous. They realize that someone in the hotel knows that someone is firing. They fire as much as they can. They are thinking as soon as this barrage is done, we run. But the swat team starts knocking on the door. Fuck. The assassins realize they're screwed. So the first one shoots himself. (This is the first of the single shots you hear at the end). The second assassin isn't so sure. He doesn't want to die. So after 10 seconds of courage gathering, he shoots himself as well.
7. The SWAT team bursts in and finds 3 bodies. They start asking questions. But because the FBI is already there (remember, they extracted the prince) they take over. They quickly assess the situation. They realize the implications. They remove the 2 assassins bodies, take a picture of Paddock lying there, and release it to 4chan to solidify their narrative.
8. Paddock is made the patsy. Why? Because if a failed Saudi assassination attempt was responsible for the deaths, if the FBI/CIA had supplied the guns that killed 58 innocent people (not counting Paddock since he's an asset), then two things would happen. One, we would demand that we go to war with Saudi Arabia. And two, which ever organization that Paddock worked for would be utterly dismantled.
We know a missile was intercepted by the Saudi military on November 3 or 4th. This was probably the final effort by the anti King Salman group. This was their last ditch effort to kill him. OR, it was staged to give King Salman the excuse to round everyone up in retaliation of the assassination attempt. We know that MASSIVE raids and the rounding of Saudi princes took place on the 5th. I will guarantee you that all these people are anti Salman/Mohammad. And who was just killed? Yes. The son of Muqrin, Mansour. Mansour's death was retaliation. I have no doubt of it. He was executed.
Ok, now that this has happened, what's next? Well, my guess will be that we will learn all of the funding that has been coming out of Saudi Arabia for the past decade. It will expose their connections to the DNC. We will learn that they have been at the root of all the turmoil in the Middle East. Then, they'll all be executed.

It's 9:00 am on September 18th in Las Vegas and your head is feeling a little too heavy, go figure. Sunlight barely peaks through the window of your room at the Plaza Hotel and Casino. The sliver of sun rays are scarce, but just enough to illuminate the crust on your eyes from a late night on Fremont Street. The inevitable "What happened?" thought runs through your mind. You head downstairs to grab something to soak up last night's debauchery and try and Hash House A Go Go out how you got to this point.
Sure, yesterday at this time you were at your desk doing nothing but last minute checks on which sets you needed to prioritize for the forthcoming next 3 days. Sure, you skipped out early to make sure you had everything packed for the 12th time this week. Sure, as soon as you got to the airport, the first place you hit after security was the nearest bar, because let's face it, the airport drink before vacation is a top 5 drink all time. Sure, maybe you shelled out more than you should have for that wimpy Jack and coke on the plane itself. Sure, Spirit Airlines is the worst. Sure, once you got to McCarran you told your friend that had never been to Vegas before to play those slot machines right out of the gate because they for sure pay out (sucker). Sure, as soon as you got to your room you threw your bags down with little to no regard just to rush back downstairs to take in the Glitter Gulch in all of its neon glory. Sure, you may have lost too much money at Binion's playing craps because "the dice were cold", when in actuality the devil on your shoulder and in your cup told you that recouping your losses was easy with big field bets (sucker). Sure, you danced like an idiot while watching the guy playing buckets like drums because it was "good practice for all the Fremont Stage sets you'll be at this year." Sure, you spent enough money at Pop Up Pizza to feed a small family of 4. Sure, you danced like an idiot watching the funk cover band at the Plaza that wear wigs and have synchronized dance moves, because eff it. Sure, you passed out with your clothes on, (thank god you took of your shoes). But really, how did you get to this point?
The existential crisis marred in a haze of last night's booze and smoke filled casino floors lasts all of 5 min, because the fried chicken benedict that's 3 sizes too big for the plate it's on offers a moment of clarity: It's Day 1 of LIB
Your head alleviates itself of any extra weight, and a shockwave of energy flows through your body as if the mimosa in your right hand is a liquid defibrillator. Your skin tingles knowing that in a few short hours you'll walk through the gates for the first time along with the thousands of others who came to this very city, on this very day to plunge into a pool of escapism. Oh yeah, that's how you got to this point. You slug your drink and head back upstairs to get ready.
While the rest of your crew does their thing, you adhere to your mental checklist, because let's face it, preparation is key if you're going to do the next 3 days right. Comfy shoes: check, chapstick: check, extra gum for new friends: check, hat for the sun: check, earplugs just in case you decide to hug the speakers: check, sunglasses: check. Those all accounted for and out of the way, you move on to more pressing items. Ah, your trusty Camelbak. It's served you well through all these years, and now it's time for the old broad to come out and play again. Drained and ready, you throw what you can in the pockets and strap her to your back, pulling the straps securely around your arms. You do a front kick to show dominance. And now...for your wristband. Let's be honest, this was the first thing you were checking for each time you went back and made sure everything was in your bag this past week. You take it out of the packaging that is much better than last year's, and hold the holy grail of concert tickets in your hand. It reads, 'You are beautiful" on it. You nod in appreciation, and blush a little bit. You slip in onto your wrist and pull the clasp to tighten securely, albeit not uncomfortably. As if the RFID is now a part of your DNA, you remember the weeks of making sure the wristband itself wasn't lost, and you breathe a sigh of relief. It's almost time. You glance at the rest of your crew after a brief moment of silence, you utter one word, *"¿Listos?"
After a cacophonous eruption of sounds that would be right at home on the plains of the Serengeti, you and your friends find your selves walking at a swift pace down Fremont. The street is much more busy than usual at this time in the late afternoon. You scan the crowd to find those that are sporting wrist decoration similar to yours. The army of translucent backpacks, throwback jerseys, bandanas and general jubilation reaffirm that you are headed the right way. You pass The D and know Sigma Derby will take scores of coins from you later that night. People jump on the scale outside Heart Attack Grill to your left after a few minutes more marching towards an experience akin to nirvana. The Fremont East District sign and Martini Glass beckon you further down the street, as the distinct sound of muffled bass begins to ever so slightly reach you ears. A right on 6th, and all of the sudden you're in a line that twists, turns and seems to never end. The pace is snail like in nature. At least that's what it feels like to you and your friends. All of the moments prepping, (mostly daydreaming about the sets you want to be at the most when the lineup dropped 5 months prior) have all led to this. You let you friends go through security first, as if to make sure that the whole squad made it in safe and sound. You tap you wristband to the scanner and re strap your Camelbak on. Inside the festival gates for the first time, you're surrounded by bevy of people who more than likely feel the same way you do. You friends are sharing daps and laughs left and right, while you simply savor the moment. A flurry of folks sprint past you on the left. You smirk, knowing they gravely miscalculated seeing their first set of the day. The Praying Mantis outside Container Park shoots its flame up into the atmosphere as if playing host to the grounds and saying, "Welcome". All the sights and sounds and you can only muster up two words, "Que Hermoso."

It has been said that the Mountain West conference is “At the Peak,” and to me, nothing illustrates that more, than the fact that there are 12 teams competing in the only NCAA Division 1 conference that sponsors e-sports. Of course, since the matches are played head-to-head, Boise State has an advantage because they tint the monitors blue, and play with all blue avatars; an advantage that is confirmed in their winning of League of Legends and Overwatch, but with the Spring season being cut, next year the Mountain West has announced that they will be playing Mario Kart 8, for the Nintendo Switch. Due to the large amounts of people in the Mountain West cities suddenly having $1200 burning a hole in their pocket, every store that sells Nintendo Switch has sold out of their allotment; yes, even, Amazon. So, thus the conundrum becomes: How can these players, prospects, and ordinary people practice in order to “git gud” as the gamers would say? Well, that’s where I come in. For, you see, since I am allowed out on the streets again, finally, due to both my prison sentence being cut short, and my work being determined to be “essential,” I had the time to scope out some places. Alas, while my cough and fever are not improving as much as I had hoped since I last got back from Italy, I did manage to find some time to visit all of the Mountain West cities in order to find the easiest place to get a Switch and Mario Kart 8 location. For simplicity’s sake, I am going by the football stadium since it’s a well-defined point in most locations – San José State fans, the football stadium is that big ovoid building at the corner of E Alma Ave, and S 7th St… It’s the place where the people aren’t on Saturday’s is September. Should you get hungry during your travels, I have also managed to find a some breakfast locations in the same vicinity

Mountain

Air Force

Okay, so I lied a little; I tried to get into the university, but, unfortunately the men with guns wouldn’t actually let me get beyond the gate on S Gate Rd, and I was still a little jet-lagged having just gotten in from Frankfurt after having woken up for my 0610 flight for the Linate to Frankfurt leg (stupid weather prevented the flight from Denver to ABQ, but my loss is your gain). So, while this may not be the closest, it certainly will fit the bill. Tyler-Jay Rowland who lives at 3075 Navigation Drive, in Colorado Springs was more than willing to help out, especially since his son, Jeremiah, was grounded for a month for staying out after curfew two weekends in a row. As the falcon flies, this location is 5.2 miles away; in a car, it’s not too much further than that.

Boise State

Now, I don’t, technically, hate the way that Boise is laid out with the river running right through the center of town, but even though Maci Drew lives in the Clearwater Apartments, unit 323, which is in a straight line, only a quarter of a mile from the stadium, you will have to go the Exxtramile, to get to her apartment. Also, she would like me to point out, that times for a waitress like herself are a little rough, so please, if you’re hungry, skip Taco Bell, and eat at the Bar Gernika in downtown Boise, right next to the Central Plaza and Century Link Arena. “We have wifi” she said.

Colorado State

This is, by far, the most remarkable location; I had completely forgotten that they moved to an on-campus stadium, so I initially went to the Hughes Stadium location, and found a big pile of dirt. And not much else – well, if you exclude the trees that formed a nice line, that brought me back to my college days. Having corrected my too old Garmin in-car GPS, I found Tim Thatcher on 604 Balsam Ln; he’s a little deaf, so you might need to knock like you are ram-ing down the door. He bought the Switch after his wife of 35 years died to help him grieve and spend his retirement, “but it’s just making me too sad lately, and I’ve never been very good at vid’ya [sic] games. I still don’t know how I’m supposed to save the princess when she’s trying to beat me… That reminds me of my princess, who I lost last year. She was so kind, we met in high school, I had an onion on my belt as was the style in those days. They didn't have any white onions, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones.” I’ll be honest, at this point I started zoning out because, again, fever. He honestly looked really sad as I was talking to him, so you might want to try to cheer him up, since he’s just a lonely guy bein’ a dude. In a straight line distance, you’re only going .3 miles, and it’s not too much further by car.

New Mexico

This is by far the closest location to the stadium. The UNM Lobo Club is a non-essential business in the state of New Mexico, and UNM and the Athletics Department realized that funding would need to be cut dramatically throughout the state, and with the sweetheart deal they got from the legislature this year, they decided to close all athletic facilities, including the Maloof building, home of both Eddie Nuñez’s office, and the Lobo Club. I suggest using the side door closest to the field level entrance of the stadium. That’ll take you to the weight room; an alarm will go off, the code is “1892” the year the football team first played (interesting tidbit: the marching band was founded in 1889, the same year as the university); from there enter the main hallway, and go to the first door on the left after you pass the restrooms. The last time I was there, they had a vending machine that dispensed free Mountain Dew; I was howl-ing with laughter after I found that. Also, if you see Señor Manta, say “Hola!” he’s been down on his luck since his family were killed in the accident, and now he wanders the street like a lone Lobo.

Utah State

It was like a bomb went off. No one was around; maybe they were busy playing Farmer, or having a bonfire out in the dirt behind the stadium, wit their brown-eyed girls, but Jeff Field’s dorm room, Aggie Village Community building 17, first floor, third window from the right (he leaves it unlocked, so don’t worry about access) has a Switch just sitting there on the bed, as though he borrowed it from someone, but never managed to return it before he left. Go on, take it, just say that it was yours and he left it, no one will check.

Wyoming

Cowboys and Cowgirls are just different, I guess; I could not find a Nintendo Switch in town for the life of me. I found many Switchblades, Light switches, and many wooden rods, so I took my horse down to Cheyenne, and found a recently laid-off Subway Sandwich Artist called Dom, who knew just where to look. He directed me to 803 West 21st St, Suite B. He told me, “yeah, the guy who runs this storefront, has a little son, about 6 years old. He keeps a Switch in his desk’s keyboard tray for when he picks his son up from school.” Because of the ordeal in Laramie, I asked him to clarify, and he did, “yeah… Nintendo switch.” He said as he looked around shiftily. If that doesn’t work you can always try Suite C, I heard they stock Switches… oh wait, not that kind.” I was going to ask him for more information, but he entered what looked like an abandoned brick building just passed the railroad tracks, “You didn’t see me,” he said. And I also didn’t hear the gunshots that went off as I walked back to my car.

Table View

School	Distance Driving (mi)	Straight Line Distance (mi)	Drive/Drone Difference	Variance (from all schools)A
Air Force	8.44	5.22	3.22	0.047
Boise State	1.00	0.282	0.718	1.069
Colorado State	0.420	0.312	0.108	1.792
New Mexico	0.206	0.191	0.015	1.920
Utah State	0.444	0.305	0.139	1.751
Wyoming	47.90	40.69	7.21	4.894

A: Variance is calculated based upon DDD’s distance from the standard deviation of DDD… Why DDD? Because, DDD is King.

West

Note: SDSU currently does not field an Esports team; I am including them because it seems likely that they will in the near future

Hawai’i

Hawai’i is interesting because the Honolulu airport has a much better open air location than the El Paso airport; there’s a water path, it’s weird man, it reminds me a lot of the Tiki Room at Disn… oh, yeah, Hawai’i, Polynesia, that makes sense. Anyway, the stadium is home to the largest swap meet’s I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, I did not find any Switches, but I did find a guy swapping Macadamia Nut cookies for a few dollars, so naturally, I bought some. It started to rain, so even though many people are Rainbow Warriors or Wahine, as the women prefer to be called, I am not. I stopped in at the ‘Aeia Public Library for a spell, and my phone was dead, so I needed a place to charge for a bit. The nice librarian, Akela (“it means graceful,” I was told. After I asked, “like the wolf-spirit in Hindi myths?”), pointed out, that, “We loan out all sorts of stuff here; pots, pans, sewing machines. Believe it or not, we even rent out video game systems. Our most popular is probably the Nintendo Switch, but we also have a couple of Xbox’s and PS4’s.” I guess I looked very shocked because Akela continued, “with the military surrounding us, we, the library system, get a lot of goods from contractors who don’t want to have a lot of their goods shipped back to the mainland.” Seeing how much it cost to ship out, I completely understood, and bid ¬¬Akela aloha, and failed the Hawai’I test by passing out at the nearest Embassy Suites, in Kapolei, if I remember correctly (I probably don’t, I was tired).

Fresno State

A nice cow brought me to Clovis. Much like what happened in Las Vegas, it was not the cool one, but instead the one in California. She (I saw udders), brought me specifically to 264 Clovis Ave, and said, “what you seek, from my master, is in there.” I’m not sure if it was my fever, jet-lag, a combination of them, or something else entirely, but then the cow vanished as though she was just a thing on the internet. A stray puppy passed by me in downtown, so that was probably the highlight of the trip.

Nevada (Reno)

Look, I’ll be honest, Reno to me always makes me feel like I’m going to be leaving the city without one or both of my kidneys. I don’t know why I expect Renoirs to chew my body like a Pack of Wolves, but there you are. Diedre Thomas of 128 Keystone Ave, fell on hard times. She poured herself a glass of vodka, neat, and said, “you can have anything you want,” she paused briefly to wink at me, “for the right price.” I specifically enquired about the Switch, “Anything,” she replied. She pulled out what appeared to be a small glass bowl that looked like an incense holder, and a baggie of chalk dust, and… Oh my god, she was going to smoke cocaine. Anyway, as she pulled out the pulled out the baggie, I hastily took my leave. I then went to the airport and went to my next stop….

Nevada – Las Vegas

Can you believe parents still bring their children, like elementary school aged children to Las Vegas. And it’s not the cool Las Vegas, in New Mexico, it’s the one in Nevada; well, I guess, technically they bring their kids to Paradise, and not Las Vegas, but c’mon man, there isn’t that much difference. Anyway, head to the Excalibur hotels because Carla, the housekeeper said that on average 3 Switches get left by guests every day. I then felt really depressed while walking around the hotel, so I left to check out the Mirage, where I normally stay on these Mountain West trips. I also learned that if there’s one thing that freaks me out more than the throngs of people walking the Strip, it’s when there’s nobody around. Once the new stadium gets completed it will be vastly easier to get to the casino than at the current location.

San Diego State

I stayed with Dominic, at his house of Friars Road. I was starting to feel sick to my stomach with the lack of green chile, so it was so enjoyable to spend time with a fellow New Mexican (and my roommate junior year). He took me on a little tour: Balboa Park’s stadium (home of the former Harbor Bowl, and the first tie in UNM Football history), the USS Midway, and Ocean Beach. I had forgotten about the assignment until I looked down at my feet and found a working Switch. When it was still there after an hour, I borrowed a small boat, realised, I need a bigger boat and headed out to the Ocean. Having claimed rights, I then put it back, so you might also find it.

San José State

Look, there are a lot of people who depart from the San Jose Airport. The kids who travel on these flights are slightly scatter-brained because of the adrenaline of taking a plane ride (and passing through the checkpoint), and leave some of their electronics, and I found a shoe! A shoe! Who only puts one shoe on and then walks-off? It was an adult shoe, so it’s not like a child/toddleparent left it, no, someone made a conscious decision to leave their shoe… Maybe it was a protest? Anyway, just tell the guy that you left your Switch at the checkpoint, if he asks you what color it was say, it had yellow grips that slide off, but the screen was bounded by black.

Table View

School	Distance Driving (mi)	Straight Line Distance (mi)	Drive/Drone Difference	Standard Deviation (all schools)A
Fresno State	4.46	3.28	1.18	0.644
Hawai’i	1.420	0.696	0.784	1.001
Nevada (Reno)	2.410	1.69	0.720	1.067
Nevada – Las Vegas (SBS)b	18.426	8.93	11.258
Nevada – Las Vegas (NVS)c	2.125	0.590	1.535	0.391
San Diego State	9.861	8.08	1.78	0.252
San José State	6.575	4.60	1.975	0.164

A: Variance is calculated based upon DDD’s distance from the standard deviation of DDD… Why DDD? Because, DDD is King.
b: Sam Boyd Stadium
c: New Vegas Stadium (Allegiant Field)

Conclusion

Even if the stores are sold out of Switches, there are always places you can go to get them, some are definitely within walking distance of your house, maybe even right next door. If you do choose to do that, there are a few things to keep in mind: 1. Milk 2. Eggs, specifically from Natural Grocers, if they still have member pricing. 3. Chicken thighs
Wait, that was my grocery list for last week.

1. Basque food is amazing.
2. The addresses are real, any businesses mention are real; the people mentioned or alluded to (with exception to the person who has an office in Clovis, CA; and Dominic in SD) are fake.
3. No, I do not know who lives at the addresses, and unless you can look it up in the phone book, I recommend that you don’t either. Please don’t bother them.
4. No, I am not sick… I have a lingering cough from allergies to junipemesquite pollen.
5. I have not visited Colorado Springs/Fort Collins/Laramie/Reno/San José/Honolulu, yet.
6. Information for the other cities comes from my memory
7. I remember when Park MGM was the Monte Carlo
8. Is Secret Pizza still at the Cosmo? I don’t remember seeing it the last time I was there, but that might have been because I was on the wrong floor.
9. Toss a coin to your witcher.
10. Normal people stop listing things at 10, but
11. This list goes up to 11.

People of Interest:
(This list is a bit hard to follow because of the long names. This chart : http://www.businessinsider.com/a-whos-who-of-the-saudi-royal-family-2015-2 will help you clarify who is who.)
King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud (King Saud. Deceased) : King of Saudi Arabia (1932-1953)
King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Deceased) : 5th son of King Saud. King of Saudi Arabia until his death in 2015. Successor is King Salman
Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth King Salman): Current King of Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA). 8th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud.
Mohammad bin Salman (Henceforth Crown Prince Mohammad): Son of King Salman. Currently next in line to be king after King Salman.
Muqrin bin Abdulaziz (Former Deputy Crown Prince. Henceforth Muqrin) : 9th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud. Was next in line to be king if King Salman had died before being crowned king. IS THE FATHER OF Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud! THE MAN KILLED IN THE HELICOPTOR CRASH ON 11/5/2017.
Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth Mansour) : Son of Muqrin bin Abdulaziz. Died 11/5/2017, the day of the failed coup on the throne of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
Alwaleed bin Talal (Henceforth Talal) : Billionaire businessmen. Grandson of King Saud. Has ties to DNC, Clinton, Podesta. Arrested 11/4/2017 for corruption. Owns The Four Seasons at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas (Four Seasons occupy the top floors of Mandalay Bay) Owns shares in Twitter as well as other high-tech silicon valley companies. Has had spats with Trump in the past.
I know that's a mouthful of names, but bear with me. Just remember 4 names: Salman, Mohammad, Muqrin, and Mansour.
Do you remember how President Trump visited Saudi Arabia back in May of 2017? Do you remember how warmly he was greeted by King Salman? I do. It was a spectacle. Why was he greeted so welcomingly? After all, President Obama's reception was... shall we say, less than grand. Do you remember how after Trump's visit, Saudi Arabia started becoming more open in their policies? Women can drive there now. Did you notice how the Syrian rebellion became quiet? Did you notice how quickly ISIS was crushed after the visit? Why did Saudi Arabia suddenly want to get their oil companies listed on the NYSE? What could have caused this?
To answer this, we have to look a little further back. Back to around 2010.
It all goes back to fracking. You see, the Kindom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) has always relied heavily on its vast petrol reserves for wealth and prosperity. And they were ruthless. OPEC. The cartel of gasoline. You can't count the number of times throughout history that OPEC used its power to crush governments, manipulate prices, control supplies, and fund activities. If there ever was a international group of bullies, OPEC was it. And at the head of this organization was the mighty KSA.
Then came the fracking boom. Suddenly, the world was no longer at the mercy of OPEC. This made them nervous. So, they did what they always do. They pumped out more petroleum, driving the price of gas to lowest in decades. What was their objective? To bankrupt these fracking businesses. KSA is rich. Very rich. They figured, we'll just drive gas prices unbelievably low and take the loss until all these fracking business startups crumble. Do you remember how cheap gas got between 2013-2016? It was ridiculous, wasn't it? But what they didn't count on was just how cheap fracking had become. So many of these business didn't go bankrupt. So they took another step. To convince the world that fracking was bad for the environment. So they lobbied and supplied funds to the Democratic party. Why? Because the leftist are usually the ones who support ANY and ALL environmental regulations. Do you remember all the legal battles that fracking had to go through? Hell, it's still illegal in most blue states. Do you now understand why the Saudis donated so much money to the Clinton campaign? She was HEAVILY favored to win and if she did, you can bet your ass that illegalizing fracking would have been on the top of her list, returning us to dependence on arab oil. But... this didn't work either. Fracking continued. And then, a shitstorm of reality hit them hard.
You see, KSA had vastly underestimated the amount of total shale reserves in North America. They had no idea that so much of this stuff exists. They thought maybe they could ride it out if the reserves would dry up in a decade or so. But nope. We have enough shale to supply us for at least 50 years. Hmmm... big problem.
So, if you're King Salman, what do you do? Well, there's only one thing you can do. Give up the reliance on oil production and try to use existing wealth to stay wealthy. To modernize its trade to include more than just exports of oil. They would need to build an entire industrial country from scratch. To do that, he needed the help of the USA. And that's where President Trump comes in.
You see, the May 2017 meeting between Trump and King Salman (and his son Mohammad), was not just another meeting. It was a business meeting. King Salman asked Trump for help. Trump was more than willing to give it (like listing the oil companies on the NYSE) but his help would come with a price. Liberalization and the stop of illegal funding. No more contributions to American politics. No more supplying funds to terrorists or splinter groups. King Salman took the deal. All of a sudden, women were allowed to drive. ISIS was retreating. Syrian rebels suddenly ran out of ammunition. Yay. All good up to this point.
Now comes the bad
Not all the royalties in KSA are into this. They don't like losing the power they once had. What's worse, they don't want to become liberal. They now start resenting King Salmon. They start plotting against him. At the forefront of this movement is none other than the previous Deputy Crown Prince, Muqrin, and his son, Mansour (the man killed in the helicopter crash of 11/5/17).
October 1, 2017. The top floors of Mandalay Bay isn't Mandalay Bay, but is Four Seasons, owned by billionaire Talal. Who was occupying that whole floor that night? I can't remember where, but I heard that the whole floor was reserved for that week. Now, no one would do that unless they were Saudi royalty. We don't know for sure, but my guess is Crown Prince Mohammad. We know it wasn't King Salman, because he was in Russia at the time. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/oct/05/saudi-russia-visit-putin-oil-middle-east
The plan is to take out the crown prince. Then kill King Salman. With the King and the Crown Prince dead, who is next in line? Yup. The former deputy crown prince, Muqrin. So, posing as terrorists who wanted to buy the guns for some terrorist attack, they dupe the CIA or FBI to supply the guns to the death squad. Their real plan is to climb the stairs right after the deal and kill the VIP in the floors above them. This is why the weapons cashe was located on the 32nd floor. They would only have to climb a few stairs or take the elevator up a little to start the killing. Now, here's what happened that night:
** With the post from u/kneejerk55, I have modified the events of the night. I think it fits much better**

1. Paddock is the contact man to supply the guns. He meets a couple of assassins ahead of time (remember, the shooting starts at 10:05). At this point, Paddock is thinking this is a gun deal. Only a few magazines are loaded. He merely wants to show the customers how to load the chamber etc... What he doesn't know is that the advance team was sent to secure the floor. That all but one entry point to the floor would be barricaded (crucial since the reason Campos becomes suspicious of the blocked doors is what ultimately leads him to investigate) The reason for the barricade is that once the assault starts, the assassins want to make sure to impede the authorities as much as possible from reaching the top floors.
   
2. CIA/FBI (or Trump's own intelligence) got wind of the assassination that was about to take place. Immediate action is taken to round up the assassins. Remember, we're talking about an army of assassins here. You can't kill a Crown Prince who's protected by 30 armed bodyguards by pulling a Jack Ruby. I estimate at least 20 assassins in total.
   
3. What the assassins didn't know was that the prince had disguised himself as a regular dude to enjoy the nightlife in Vegas. (Saudi princes have been known to do this) He had slipped away from the Mandalay and was at the Tropicana playing some cards. As soon as the FBI (or some other agency) learned of the assassination plot, they stormed the Tropicana and extracted the prince. The video can be seen here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVHmshtmDqo They lead him out of the casino and escort him to the nearest helipad to be picked up. BUT, on the way, they encounter some resistance from a few assassins. Hence the firefight at the airport. Eventually, he makes it to the chopper and is whisked away. This explains the flight radar reports you see all over the net.
   
4. Meanwhile, the FBI has gathered up as many of the assassins as they can. A few are armed with sidearms. They don't have rifles yet because the rendezvous with Paddock hasn't occurred yet. Hence the random firefights at various casinos that night. A few are killed. Hence the Laura Loomer videos of covered up dead people. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oxAZIpSUuM
   
5. The assassins already in Paddock's room gets a call. They are told that the Prince is not in his suite above. That he's being escorted out of the Tropicana. They start panicking. If they get caught in this plot to assassinate the crown prince, not only are they dead, but their employer is dead as well. They come up with a plan. They will kill Paddock and start firing on the crowd below. They're gonna make him a crazy lone gunman. So they kill Paddock. They break a window. They pick up a rifle and start firing at the crowd below. After a couple of mags, they realize that the other mags aren't loaded! Holy fuck. They start reloading as fast as possible. This is why the average time between bursts of fire is over 40 seconds. One of them gets an idea. Let me go to the other room and break that window and shoot at the fuel tanks at a nearby airport. This will draw the police away from the Mandalay and they can escape. So he goes and attempts just that. Unfortunately, the tanks do not blow up. By this time, Jesus Campos is knocking on the door. So they just unload on him. This is why there are (supposedly) 200 shots through the door. Campos escapes a lethal shot and calls in security.
   
6. Now the assassins are getting nervous. They realize that someone in the hotel knows that someone is firing. They fire as much as they can. They are thinking as soon as this barrage is done, we run. But the swat team starts knocking on the door. Fuck. The assassins realize they're screwed. So the first one shoots himself. (This is the first of the single shots you hear at the end). The second assassin isn't so sure. He doesn't want to die. So after 10 seconds of courage gathering, he shoots himself as well.
   
7. The SWAT team bursts in and finds 3 bodies. They start asking questions. But because the FBI is already there (remember, they extracted the prince) they take over. They quickly assess the situation. They realize the implications. They remove the 2 assassins bodies, take a picture of Paddock lying there, and release it to 4chan to solidify their narrative.
   
8. Paddock is made the patsy. Why? Because if a failed Saudi assassination attempt was responsible for the deaths, if the FBI/CIA had supplied the guns that killed 58 innocent people (not counting Paddock since he's an asset), then two things would happen. One, we would demand that we go to war with Saudi Arabia. And two, which ever organization that Paddock worked for would be utterly dismantled.
   

Wew lads, I know. Quite a story. Now, let's fast forward to one month later.
We know a missile was intercepted by the Saudi military on November 3 or 4th. This was probably the final effort by the anti King Salman group. This was their last ditch effort to kill him. OR, it was staged to give King Salman the excuse to round everyone up in retaliation of the assassination attempt. We know that MASSIVE raids and the rounding of Saudi princes took place on the 5th. I will guarantee you that all these people are anti Salman/Mohammad. And who was just killed? Yes. The son of Muqrin, Mansour. Mansour's death was retaliation. I have no doubt of it. He was executed.
Ok, now that this has happened, what's next? Well, my guess will be that we will learn all of the funding that has been coming out of Saudi Arabia for the past decade. It will expose their connections to the DNC. We will learn that they have been at the root of all the turmoil in the Middle East. Then, they'll all be executed.
Do I win the award for the longest post ever at /conspiracy? Thanks for reading.
P.S. The story works just fine with Paddock as a private illegal guns dealer, meaning the FBI/CIA only helped to foil the assassination attempt. He doesn't have to be working for an alphabet agency. However, given the clues from his life style (or the utter lack of it), I'm betting that he was an asset.

People of Interest:
(This list is a bit hard to follow because of the long names. This chart : http://www.businessinsider.com/a-whos-who-of-the-saudi-royal-family-2015-2 will help you clarify who is who.)
King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud (King Saud. Deceased) : King of Saudi Arabia (1932-1953)
King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Deceased) : 5th son of King Saud. King of Saudi Arabia until his death in 2015. Successor is King Salman
Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth King Salman): Current King of Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA). 8th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud.
Mohammad bin Salman (Henceforth Crown Prince Mohammad): Son of King Salman. Currently next in line to be king after King Salman.
Muqrin bin Abdulaziz (Former Deputy Crown Prince. Henceforth Muqrin) : 9th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud. Was next in line to be king if King Salman had died before being crowned king. IS THE FATHER OF Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud! THE MAN KILLED IN THE HELICOPTOR CRASH ON 11/5/2017.
Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth Mansour) : Son of Muqrin bin Abdulaziz. Died 11/5/2017, the day of the failed coup on the throne of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.
Alwaleed bin Talal (Henceforth Talal) : Billionaire businessmen. Grandson of King Saud. Has ties to DNC, Clinton, Podesta. Arrested 11/4/2017 for corruption. Owns The Four Seasons at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas (Four Seasons occupy the top floors of Mandalay Bay) Owns shares in Twitter as well as other high-tech silicon valley companies. Has had spats with Trump in the past.
I know that's a mouthful of names, but bear with me. Just remember 4 names: Salman, Mohammad, Muqrin, and Mansour.
Do you remember how President Trump visited Saudi Arabia back in May of 2017? Do you remember how warmly he was greeted by King Salman? I do. It was a spectacle. Why was he greeted so welcomingly? After all, President Obama's reception was... shall we say, less than grand. Do you remember how after Trump's visit, Saudi Arabia started becoming more open in their policies? Women can drive there now. Did you notice how the Syrian rebellion became quiet? Did you notice how quickly ISIS was crushed after the visit? Why did Saudi Arabia suddenly want to get their oil companies listed on the NYSE? What could have caused this?
To answer this, we have to look a little further back. Back to around 2010.
It all goes back to fracking. You see, the Kindom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) has always relied heavily on its vast petrol reserves for wealth and prosperity. And they were ruthless. OPEC. The cartel of gasoline. You can't count the number of times throughout history that OPEC used its power to crush governments, manipulate prices, control supplies, and fund activities. If there ever was a international group of bullies, OPEC was it. And at the head of this organization was the mighty KSA.
Then came the fracking boom. Suddenly, the world was no longer at the mercy of OPEC. This made them nervous. So, they did what they always do. They pumped out more petroleum, driving the price of gas to lowest in decades. What was their objective? To bankrupt these fracking businesses. KSA is rich. Very rich. They figured, we'll just drive gas prices unbelievably low and take the loss until all these fracking business startups crumble. Do you remember how cheap gas got between 2013-2016? It was ridiculous, wasn't it? But what they didn't count on was just how cheap fracking had become. So many of these business didn't go bankrupt. So they took another step. To convince the world that fracking was bad for the environment. So they lobbied and supplied funds to the Democratic party. Why? Because the leftist are usually the ones who support ANY and ALL environmental regulations. Do you remember all the legal battles that fracking had to go through? Hell, it's still illegal in most blue states. Do you now understand why the Saudis donated so much money to the Clinton campaign? She was HEAVILY favored to win and if she did, you can bet your ass that illegalizing fracking would have been on the top of her list, returning us to dependence on arab oil. But... this didn't work either. Fracking continued. And then, a shitstorm of reality hit them hard.
You see, KSA had vastly underestimated the amount of total shale reserves in North America. They had no idea that so much of this stuff exists. They thought maybe they could ride it out if the reserves would dry up in a decade or so. But nope. We have enough shale to supply us for at least 50 years. Hmmm... big problem.
So, if you're King Salman, what do you do? Well, there's only one thing you can do. Give up the reliance on oil production and try to use existing wealth to stay wealthy. To modernize its trade to include more than just exports of oil. They would need to build an entire industrial country from scratch. To do that, he needed the help of the USA. And that's where President Trump comes in.
You see, the May 2017 meeting between Trump and King Salman (and his son Mohammad), was not just another meeting. It was a business meeting. King Salman asked Trump for help. Trump was more than willing to give it (like listing the oil companies on the NYSE) but his help would come with a price. Liberalization and the stop of illegal funding. No more contributions to American politics. No more supplying funds to terrorists or splinter groups. King Salman took the deal. All of a sudden, women were allowed to drive. ISIS was retreating. Syrian rebels suddenly ran out of ammunition. Yay. All good up to this point.
Now comes the bad
Not all the royalties in KSA are into this. They don't like losing the power they once had. What's worse, they don't want to become liberal. They now start resenting King Salmon. They start plotting against him. At the forefront of this movement is none other than the previous Deputy Crown Prince, Muqrin, and his son, Mansour (the man killed in the helicopter crash of 11/5/17).
October 1, 2017. The top floors of Mandalay Bay isn't Mandalay Bay, but is Four Seasons, owned by billionaire Talal. Who was occupying that whole floor that night? I can't remember where, but I heard that the whole floor was reserved for that week. Now, no one would do that unless they were Saudi royalty. We don't know for sure, but my guess is Crown Prince Mohammad. We know it wasn't King Salman, because he was in Russia at the time. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/oct/05/saudi-russia-visit-putin-oil-middle-east
The plan is to take out the crown prince. Then kill King Salman. With the King and the Crown Prince dead, who is next in line? Yup. The former deputy crown prince, Muqrin. So, posing as terrorists who wanted to buy the guns for some terrorist attack, they dupe the CIA or FBI to supply the guns to the death squad. Their real plan is to climb the stairs right after the deal and kill the VIP in the floors above them. This is why the weapons cashe was located on the 32nd floor. They would only have to climb a few stairs or take the elevator up a little to start the killing. Now, here's what happened that night:
** With the post from u/kneejerk55, I have modified the events of the night. I think it fits much better**

1. Paddock is the contact man to supply the guns. He meets a couple of assassins ahead of time (remember, the shooting starts at 10:05). At this point, Paddock is thinking this is a gun deal. Only a few magazines are loaded. He merely wants to show the customers how to load the chamber etc... What he doesn't know is that the advance team was sent to secure the floor. That all but one entry point to the floor would be barricaded (crucial since the reason Campos becomes suspicious of the blocked doors is what ultimately leads him to investigate) The reason for the barricade is that once the assault starts, the assassins want to make sure to impede the authorities as much as possible from reaching the top floors.
   
2. CIA/FBI (or Trump's own intelligence) got wind of the assassination that was about to take place. Immediate action is taken to round up the assassins. Remember, we're talking about an army of assassins here. You can't kill a Crown Prince who's protected by 30 armed bodyguards by pulling a Jack Ruby. I estimate at least 20 assassins in total.
   
3. What the assassins didn't know was that the prince had disguised himself as a regular dude to enjoy the nightlife in Vegas. (Saudi princes have been known to do this) He had slipped away from the Mandalay and was at the Tropicana playing some cards. As soon as the FBI (or some other agency) learned of the assassination plot, they stormed the Tropicana and extracted the prince. The video can be seen here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVHmshtmDqo They lead him out of the casino and escort him to the nearest helipad to be picked up. BUT, on the way, they encounter some resistance from a few assassins. Hence the firefight at the airport. Eventually, he makes it to the chopper and is whisked away.
   
4. Meanwhile, the FBI has gathered up as many of the assassins as they can. A few are armed with sidearms. They don't have rifles yet because the rendezvous with Paddock hasn't occurred yet. Hence the random firefights at various casinos that night. A few are killed. Hence the Laura Loomer videos of covered up dead people. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oxAZIpSUuM
   
5. The assassins already in Paddock's room gets a call. They are told that the Prince is not in his suite above. That he's being escorted out of the Tropicana. They start panicking. If they get caught in this plot to assassinate the crown prince, not only are they dead, but their employer is dead as well. They come up with a plan. They will kill Paddock and start firing on the crowd below. They're gonna make him a crazy lone gunman. So they kill Paddock. They break a window. They pick up a rifle and start firing at the crowd below. After a couple of mags, they realize that the other mags aren't loaded! Holy fuck. They start reloading as fast as possible. This is why the average time between bursts of fire is over 40 seconds. One of them gets an idea. Let me go to the other room and break that window and shoot at the fuel tanks at a nearby airport. This will draw the police away from the Mandalay and they can escape. So he goes and attempts just that. Unfortunately, the tanks do not blow up. By this time, Jesus Campos is knocking on the door. So they just unload on him. This is why there are (supposedly) 200 shots through the door. Campos escapes a lethal shot and calls in security.
   
6. Now the assassins are getting nervous. They realize that someone in the hotel knows that someone is firing. They fire as much as they can. They are thinking as soon as this barrage is done, we run. But the swat team starts knocking on the door. Fuck. The assassins realize they're screwed. So the first one shoots himself. (This is the first of the single shots you hear at the end). The second assassin isn't so sure. He doesn't want to die. So after 10 seconds of courage gathering, he shoots himself as well.
   
7. The SWAT team bursts in and finds 3 bodies. They start asking questions. But because the FBI is already there (remember, they extracted the prince) they take over. They quickly assess the situation. They realize the implications. They remove the 2 assassins bodies, take a picture of Paddock lying there, and release it to 4chan to solidify their narrative.
   
8. Paddock is made the patsy. Why? Because if a failed Saudi assassination attempt was responsible for the deaths, if the FBI/CIA had supplied the guns that killed 58 innocent people (not counting Paddock since he's an asset), then two things would happen. One, we would demand that we go to war with Saudi Arabia. And two, which ever organization that Paddock worked for would be utterly dismantled.
   

Wew lads, I know. Quite a story. Now, let's fast forward to one month later.
We know a missile was intercepted by the Saudi military on November 3 or 4th. This was probably the final effort by the anti King Salman group. This was their last ditch effort to kill him. OR, it was staged to give King Salman the excuse to round everyone up in retaliation of the assassination attempt. We know that MASSIVE raids and the rounding of Saudi princes took place on the 5th. I will guarantee you that all these people are anti Salman/Mohammad. And who was just killed? Yes. The son of Muqrin, Mansour. Mansour's death was retaliation. I have no doubt of it. He was executed.
Ok, now that this has happened, what's next? Well, my guess will be that we will learn all of the funding that has been coming out of Saudi Arabia for the past decade. It will expose their connections to the DNC. We will learn that they have been at the root of all the turmoil in the Middle East. Then, they'll all be executed.
Do I win the award for the longest post ever at /conspiracy? Thanks for reading.
P.S. The story works just fine with Paddock as a private illegal guns dealer, meaning the FBI/CIA only helped to foil the assassination attempt. He doesn't have to be working for an alphabet agency. However, given the clues from his life style (or the utter lack of it), I'm betting that he was an asset.

PART ONE OF FIVE
So, you wanna go to SHOT show? You think it's all fun and games? Get to play with guns? See Jesse James and James Yeager? SHOT show is the annual pilgrimage of the unwashed masses to Las Vegas to rub elbows with youtube celebrities, bloggers and overseas businessmen copying US made equipment and share infectious disease.
If you love guns, gambling and gonorrhea - SHOT show is for you! It is not my typical idea of a good time. I am not a big fan of Las Vegas.
However: I do attend for a few reasons. First, I do enjoy travel and I'm gold on UA so I can usually score an upgrade. Second, industry people are in there that I do hundreds of thousands if not millions of dollars with business with so it's nice to put a face with the name and see what deals are out there. SHOT for me has been a bust for the past few years. Being a value guy, I want to buy at $1000 and sell at $3000 and as of recently the gun business is more like buy for $1 and sell for $1.10 if you get what I mean.
We used to do business at SHOT and now it's just checking in on foursquare, instagram and rubbing elbows with bloggers and the like. I want to make money, not spend money so this is very annoying to me.
Anyways, onto the play by play.
Saturday, January 19th. Three days before SHOT show.
I talk a friend of mine to drive me to the airport after I drop my F350 at the body shop. I had a hit and run and someone totally fucked up all my paint and clearcoat. My guy says he can get it done while I'm gone for SHOT so I hitch a ride with a friend and pick up the tab for lunch. We have brisket. It is delicious. I get to the airport 3 hours early for my flight just in case the TSA line is a shitshow thanks to, well TSA. The government shutdown is not helping these folks. I have pre check and much to my surprise I breeze right through after a brief 3 minute wait.
I slog my way to the lounge, as shitty as it is to wait for my winged chariot to IAH. I have gone from being in an abusive relationship with AA to being in an abusive relationship with UA. Although if you really want to experience the battered spouse feeling, NK is a few gates over.
I board my flight to IAH and my Renton assembled chariot is on time and boarding early. The hate agent scans my pass and the alarms go off and spits off a new boarding pass. I have been upgraded to first class. You all will be turning right, I will be turning left once I pass the threshold of 2L on this old 757. I'll take a cleared upgrade at the gate any day of the week considering that I am 29/53 for Bush to LAX.
Fuck my life.
I gate check my bags to make life easier for me and the rest of the folks riding with me. If I don't have to worry about being short on time at my destination, I like to gate check to free up bins for those who are not as fortunate. Eventually I board and ask the FA to say hi to the captain and get a ride report. She says no problem. I step down into the 757 flight deck and take some selfies with the crew. They appreciate my aviation nerdery. They tell me that there will be light chop all over texas today and we're going to have some bumps so strap in and don't be a hero.
Having brightened the day of the flight crew, I head back to my lie flat window seat, fully recline and kick back and relax by listening to channel 9 on the IFE. It's disabled. Fuck. I put on a movie and watch the delightful Tag with the always excellent Jon Hamm, Ed Helms and others. It's a good movie and made me laugh. Just as we get to the gate the credits roll.
We land at Bush right on time but I have a 59 minute spa layover I had planned OR I can go to Landrys with my priory pass and get some blackened snapper. Do I hightail it to the Centurion lounge in terminal D, my home away from home? Or go for fresh grilled seafood?
This centurion lounge does not have a spa. Fuck it, lets go cajun. I walk over to Landrys and order the blackened snapper. It is delicious. The kitchen is a little behind so they box it up the rest of it for me to take on the plane which they don't have to do and I leave the waitress a nice tip. I am sweating from the blackened seasoning. I don't care. NOM NOM NOM. Fish is delish.
They have already started boarding to LAX as I walk up to the gate. I ask the hate agent if there's any upgrades. She says first is checked in full and we are 100% packed to LAX today. I thank her and board my bulkhead seat to LAX with my blackened snapper in one hand and personal item in the other.
Giving the FA a friendly nod, I ask to say hi to the captain and she says no way boss, we're busy - sit down and shut up.
Rude.
The boarding door closes for an on time departure and I watch another classic - Wall Street!
I polish off the blackened snapper, dirty rice and green beans. Charlie Sheen before he went crazy was a pretty good actor. He's so dreamy. I'm sweating profusely from the blackened seasoning and get up to throw away my trash because I didn't want the other guys in coach to have to do it for me. I walk right up to the forward galley into Bitchy McBitchface who woke up on the wrong side of life starts telling me to use the coach lavatory. I tell her I just wanted to throw some trash away and she gave me more attitude than a sassy black woman working at the DMV.
Listen lady, if you don't wanna be dealing with trash - maybe you shouldn't be working for United, eh?
I take my seat and I fall asleep on the way to LA. The ride is smoother than my nephew's 16 month old ass. The flight was not long enough. The landing is a perfect grease job on 24R and the only thing awakening me from my slumber is the reversers on the 737 Max. I pull my headset out so I can tune in LAX ground on LiveATC just as we make the left for taxiway Alpha/Alpha. I see the taxiway signs out of the corner of my window and start the feed just as I hear the ding.
ding
What I'm expecting: Welcome to Los Angeles where the local time is 5:55. Your Houston based flight crew would like to thank you for flying United and your baggage will be at carousel (integer)
What I heard from a clearly panic stricken FA: IF THERE IS A DOCTOR OR ANYONE WITH MEDICAL TRAINING ON BOARD PLEASE RING YOUR CALL BUTTON.
Everyone wants to be a hero until it's time to do hero shit.
I reach up and press the button and a single chime tells the FA that row 9 pressed button.
ding
FA: If you are a doctor or have medical training please head to the rear galley immediately.
I dumped my phone in my seat. (This was my first mistake. I'll tell you why later.)
Shit. It's go time. The passengers next to me are soundly asleep and it's a full flight, so I unbuckle my belt and turnstile jump over the two of them making a resounding thud onto the cabin floor.
I promptly walked with a purpose to the rear cabin. As I'm heading back I hear someone else walking behind me but I'm focused on the long walk from the bulkhead to the rear galley. I arrive shortly and my immediate impression is that the rear galley is not in good shape.
Oh, the bitchface FA that told me off? She's now profusely thanking me for showing up. Funny how that works isn't it?
There's a woman lying across three jumpseats on oxygen screaming in pain with a clearly experienced physician working on her and checking her out. I am not about to get in his way. Right behind me is a six foot three beast of a man who I can only imagine used to play right wing for Detroit. Doc 1 is working her, there's me and Doc 2 is behind me.
Doc 1 tells us she's got shortness of breath and chest pains.
Doc 2 nods and says he's a trauma surgeon from Cedars Sinai.
Doc 1 tells us he's an internal medicine specialist at UCLA.
Doc 2 asks me what my specialty is.
FC says structural firefighting and making sure you two get everything you need.
Doc 2 looks at the FA and asks if they got an AED on board.
I look up at the nearest overhead and there's an AED in the compartment, I bust it out and hand it to him. They start sizing her up as we taxi down Alpha/Alpha. I stand in the aisle inbetween the two bathroom doors as they do their thing ready to help out.
(FC breaks the fourth wall)
FOR THE UNINITIATED: United is in terminals 7/8 on the south side of LAX. When you land next to In-and-Out Burger on Sepuldeva you're on the north side of the field. It's easily a 20 minute ride to get from one side of the airport to another when they're busy. Prime time for LAX is 1800hrs because you have all the morning flights from the east and the afternoon flights from the central time zone arriving.
When you have a medical emergency and time is a factor, a 20 minute ride to the gate is what we call sub optimal. There's hard stand/remote gates at LAX on the northwest side of the field surface street adjacent that you can get to a lot faster than a long haul around the airport. If you give me a choice of going to the hard stand and meeting the ambulance or taking a 15-20 minute taxi during rush hour to a UA staffed ramp - I will GLADLY take to the hard stand, shut down and start em up. Yes, it's going to inconvenience a plane full of people for 20 minutes for you to unload, restart and taxi back. No, I give zero fucks.
My mistake was leaving my phone behind. Had I had it with me, I would have known we were going long way around and applied some intervention techniques to get things moving faster. I had no idea where we were.
(Cut to present)
Doc 1 managed the best he could and the lady said inbetween raspy breaths that she was going to start vomiting from the pain. Doc calls for a bag. The FA takes the safety equipment bag, the one holding the lifevest, seatbelt extender and oxygen mask and empties it.
OH FOR FUCKS SAKE. I reach over to the nearest passenger, pull all the contents of the seatback out, dump it on the floor and hand doc 1 a United brand official airsick bag. Just as I do this and I step back, the plane rapidly slows down and begins to turn.
(FC breaks the fourth wall again)
I used the term suboptimal earlier, and this is going to be a theme for the rest of the trip. Boeing in their infinite wisdom decided to stretch a 737 design and call it the MAX instead of doing a clean sheet. Three FA's, two doctors, me, and our lady experiencing chest pains are in the rear galley all not wearing seatbelts. All but the patient are standing. We are something like 80 feet behind the main landing gear.
Inertia is not our friend today. I start falling and I grab the only thing I can on the way down: the door handle to the lavatory.
(Cut to present)
Next thing I know, I've experienced what the FAA would probably term a "Lavatory Incursion" - and I wonder where my life has gone wrong as my knee has hit the toilet bowl. I get back up and prop a hand up on the cabin ceiling just to steady myself for the rest of the ride to the gate.
I look towards the front of the plane and notice something. Some fuckwit in row 29 is livestreaming this on instagram or some crap. Are you fucking shitting me? I lean over to the purser and tell her that while Doc 1 and 2 are fixing her, I'm gonna go do some fixing of my own about 10 rows up. My resting bitch face is on point right now as I walk up to the tactless millennial inconsiderate smartphone user and get ready to fix this problem in a way honed by years of catholic school, brute force and dealing with shithead customers.
FC: Just what do you think you're doing?
1: I'm livestreaming this on twitter. It's my right.
FC: You're gonna delete whatever you filmed right now.
1: Or what are you gonna do about it?
FC: You see that FA over there? The one that looks like she's not taking any shit from anybody today? I'm gonna ask her for the intercom, I'm gonna call the captain and my friends over at the LAPD are gonna haul your ass in front of a judge and the next place you're gonna be livestreaming from is the back of a police car. And let me tell you something you might not know. There's two ways to enjoy LA Jail on a Saturday night. One's a Richard Pryor album. The other's when a skinny inked up ginger white boy like you walks in. Give me that goddamn phone.
I'm handed the phone and I delete the video as I walk back to the rear galley and put it in my back pocket. People are now asking if they're gonna make their connections and shit and I tell them to shut up, we've got more important things going on. As I walk back I peek through the windows seeing nothing but darkness. How long does it take to get to the gate? And even then, is there an ambulance waiting there?
What the fuck is happening? Where the fuck are we?
I ask Bitch McBitchface how long these symptoms have been going on. Apparently this issue had just arisen upon landing. Doc 1 asks for a stethoscope. I pull down the first aid kit from the compartment. It requires keys. The cabin crew has to find the keys for the first aid kit. I'm eventually handed a key and bust out a stethoscope for the doc. I peer out the window of the rearmost seats looking for signs of a gate, ambulance or anything I can reference to figure out where we are - the tower, a 777 tail which would tell me we are nearing the international terminal.....nothing but darkness.
This is not good.
Doc keeps the O2 flowing as we are all standing there helpless waiting for the plane to get to the ambulance or vice versa. The cabin crew asks how they're going to get her off the plane.
FC: Well she's in no condition to walk, can you get the rampers to put air stairs on 2L and take her off that way? It would be easier and optimal.
FA: I don't think we are able to do that
(It is at this point I think I smell toast. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T DO THAT? GET ON THE INTERCOM AND TELL THE CAPTAIN THAT THEY ARE GOING TO HAVE TO TAKE HER OFF THE PLANE VIA 2L AND STAIRS WTF)
I get that what is happening is clearly exceeding the crew's training but this is.....bad. Eventually we arrive at the gate and the fine folks at Station 51 from LAFD EMS arrive. The EMT sizes it up and calls for an aisle chair to be brought to take her off the plane since she can't walk. (WE HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE TIME!)
They load her up and I step out of the way into the lavatory, I see them wheel her out through a crack in the door. I take this chance to do a bit from spies like us.
I look to my left and extend my hand. Doctor. I nod. I repeat to the right. They also repeat the bit. We chuckle.
I look towards Doc 2.
FC: Hey Docs, I didn't catch your names. I'm Will. Will Hayden.
Doc 2: George, George Rodriguez.
FC: Good work there Dr Rodriguez. Thanks for helping out.
Doc 2: We're doctors. It's what we do.
Doc 1: Hiya Will, I'm Charlie Fong.
FC: Nice work today Dr Fong. Thank you for showing up.
We start walking back to our seats as I snort out a laugh.
FC: So, Dr Fong.....I guess it's safe to say that United has successfully smoothed things over with the Asian physician community?
The doc's have a two Mississippi awkward pause as they begun laughing hysterically. Please, tip your waitresses. Try the veal. I'm here all night. Tactless millennial asks me to return phone, and I hand it back as we walk back to our seats.
EMS clears the plane, captain tells people that they can now leave and a cacophony of seat belt buckles pierces the high pitched drone that is a 737 sitting at the gate without engines running on shore power.
I ask Bitchy if I can see the captain on the way out as she once more thanks me for my service. She stuck her head in, got a nod and let me pass. I asked the captain why we landed on the north side of the field with an onboard medical and why we didn't get priority handling from the ground controller and why the hell it took so long to get to the gate.
His response was staggering.
CA: We didn't even know there was an emergency in the galley until the FA told us. By then we were almost to the terminal.
FC: Are you fucking kidding me?
CA: Nope. By the time we knew something was going on we were already on the ground and almost to the gate.
We talk airplane briefly about the 737 Max, the new jumpseats and I wish them a good rest of the trip. I secretly think he's got to be shitting me.
Being a good aviation nerd, I made mental note to check his work after I got back to the hotel.
I head to the lounge in LAX for a bite to eat, a sprite and some very boring time to myself. Just as I walk into the terminal there's a voicemail from my uncle. My plan for LA was to see my family - and my cousin and his wife who's pregnant with their second kid. I crash at my uncle's house in Pasadena and walk around old town and shop at Vromans Bookstore and enjoy all that Southern California has to offer. It's a good way to spend a weekend. If you ever get a chance, do it. It's fun. I can pay United a shitload of money to fly into McCarran on Monday or I can spend 1/3 of that and go into LAX a few days before and hop over for $45. I love LA.
NEW VOICEMAIL FROM UNCLE LOU: Family emergency, we all have to head to Chicago because Lisa's mom is in the hospital and we can't see you this weekend. You're on your own. I'm on my way to Burbank to catch the last flight to Midway. Talk to you later.
Fuck.
Time for an FC adventure.
I order some food in the lounge and crack open the laptop. One of my customers works for LAFD. I find his personal cell phone number in my sales records.
ring ring
1: Go for Smith
FC: Chief Smith! Will Hayden here! How's that M110 running?
1: Will...holy shit long time no talk. What's going on?
FC: Family bailed on me for this weekend, gotta make my own adventure. You working tomorrow? I'd love to see how LA does things.
1: No, but I have some friends on C shift that are. Let me see who's gonna be around. Let me call you back in 10.
FC: You got it Chief.
I eat and drink and relax and the phone rings back. Chief smith says be at station 9 at 0800 hrs Sunday morning. I say no problem! Thanks! He tells me to check in with the captain of the truck crew and he'll show me around.
While I'm on the laptop I book the marriott in Torrance. It's near the airport and a 25 minute ride to station 9. Little did I know it's next to a goddamn oil refinery and the housekeeping staff have left all the windows to my room open. Ugh. I kick back and take a shower. When I get back, I pulled all the ATC tape from LAX tower, from landing clearance to touchdown to the ground controller handoff to the checkpoint, to the request for medical assistance and timestamped all of it.
The request to LAX ground for EMS was made somewhere on taxiway bravo after passing papa (TBIT) but before Charlie-6. (T7). By that time we were already on the south side of the field and terminal adjacent.
Cabin crew didn't tell the captain to request EMS till we got to the other side of the fucking airport. From the moment I walked up, I had assumed (incorrectly) that prior to the request for medical assistance they would at least have told the captain what was going on. They didn't and he was flying blind. When you do a CPR class the first thing you do is call 911 and ask for an ambulance because it does not matter how much CPR you do if an ambulance never shows up to take you to the hospital.
There's a lesson to be learned here.
When seconds count, the request for EMS is waiting for the plane to get to the terminal to be called.
I knew United wasn't great, but this is to use a southern california term - no bueno.
The Westchester In and Out Burger has a 4x4 with my name on it and it is DELICIOUS. After I finish eating I hop on the hangout with the guys.
Since I've got no plans till morning I decide that it's worth the crazy time and I call u/gunexpert69 and we make plans to hang out at his local watering hole. We then try to pick up some flight attendants at the Doubletree. We fail miserably and call it a night.
Sunday, January 20th. Two days before SHOT show.
My alarm is set for 727AM. It rings, I wash up, jump in the car and put free fallin by Tom Petty on the radio and hop onto 405 south to pick up 110 north. The freeways are empty and I make incredible time downtown. I look down at the address and wonder where the fuck I am going. 7th and San Julian St? I drive around and there are tents on the sidewalk everywhere. This is the closest I have seen to life in a WROL situation. Eventually I find a spot on 7th street, bang on the door and the guys tell me to pull my car into the back lot. I do so and the guys are having breakfast and invite me to sit down and grab a bite.
When in Rome......
I grab some eggs, bacon and a biscuit and the truck captain comes by and says oh you know Smith? Apparently they came up in the same academy class and are old friends. He sticks his head out the door and yells at one of the guys and pantomimes some instructions. I don't speak ASL so I just nod and take it in. He runs down what they're doing today. LA tradition is that weekends are for the boys so they do training on weekends. It's 820AM and they've setup a training scenario and are gonna run it. This looks cool.
One of the guys comes back and hands me a headset, saladbowl and turnout coat. Captain says you're with me in the truck. Gear up.
Uh. What?
CA: Yeah, Chief Smith said you'd be riding along with us today. Right?
FC: LOL! I thought he was just gonna do a station visit. Sure, I'll ride with you guys.
CA: You ever see a TDA before?
FC: I used to be on the engine or the quint so this is gonna be new.
CA: Well, jump in. Lets go.
My ride to LA was a 737 max made in Renton that just came off the line January 17th. My ride to Skid Row was a 100' Pierce Arrow XT Tractor Drawn Aerial that was three years old. I hopped in and we drove around to the training location where the guys were to setup the ladder and pretend like they were venting a roof on a 5 story building. I was told to go shadow the command post as they'd be evaluating the guys and they had a good training day. LA has a good group of people and it shows. They did a post training debrief, simulated a dry hydrant and talked about everything they did, everything they did badly and everything they could do better.
LA has some fantastic people there that are very talented. The guys started putting tools away and rolling hose. I find the captain over on one of the engines and ask him if they need help with anything. He says if you want to help out, we're breaking down that attack line you can drain it.
FC: You guys straight roll to a flat load right?
CA: Yeah. You know hose?
FC: Drivers do it with hose.
CA: LOL! Hadn't heard that one before! Here's some gloves.
He gave me some gloves, I straight rolled three sections of three quarter line and hauled it all back to the engine where I found the truck captain loading hose with his guys. If anyone wants to see where real leadership is, it's helping your guys load hose and pack up tools.
I hook up and look up as I notice their technique. LA flat loads all their attack line, no preconnects. Two guys in the bed dressing and dutching it, one guy on the ground, straight roll between the boots pulling hose straight up into the engine. Gets any residual water out and they can check the gaskets every length. Never seen that done before but it looks like a smooth technique. I hook up the last of their attack line as the guys finish packing up. The bells come in and there's an automatic fire alarm tripped. First call of the morning. We hop over there and its' a false alarm.
The rest of the day is spent with station 9 watching the various indigenous folks of Skid Row do their thing. Station 9 is the busiest fire station in the nation. Before lunch they ran 3 overdoses, 2 stabbings, and a cacophany of crap. I went with them and their ambulance drivers and EMT's really earn every dollar they make working this area. After a quick break for lunch, they start watching the Rams game. Just as it got good, bells came in for another few calls and next thing I knew - the Rams were going to the super bowl and the dinner bell was ringing.
I decided it would be overstaying my welcome to hang out for dinner so I packed up and bought a shirt and told the guys if they ever needed guns to shout at me. Drove over to Grand Central Market to get a bite to eat and then grabbed some in and out burger on my way back to the hotel. txgi is sloshed and in no position to travel after watching the patriots destroy KC.
It's been a crazy day and the beginning of a crazy trip. And it's just getting started.
Monday, January 21st. One day before SHOT Show
I wake up late, grab lunch at the Del Amo mall and do some shopping. My flight to McCarran leaves at 7PM and arrives just after 8PM. Knowing rush hour traffic in LA I decide to leave early and get to the airport at 430. I hightail it to the lounge in TBIT and grab a bite to eat and relax. I'm on an Alaska A320 to McCarran all the way in the back but at least I got a window seat. I stop in on the way to talk to the captain and he asks me a bunch of gun questions. I tell him the VP9 is good to go and he should buy it with his ATP credentials.
The 320 ride to LAS is entirely filled with moderate chop. The airplane is literally banging the side of the plane into my head. It is a miserable flight. We land on time and I am unable to stop at the Centurion lounge for a bite and a drink because it's closed for renovations.
I grab my bags and pick up my badge for SHOT Show at the airport and jump on the shuttle bus to Hertz. I reserved a compact knowing I'd need to be in and out of a tight parking garage. I get to my assigned spot, spot 13 and there's a fullsize Chevy Suburban there.
What the fuck is this?
I throw my bags inside, jump in and drive right up to the Gold Member service area.
FC: The lady on the phone asked me compact, midsize or fullsize - WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?
Hertz: That's the Hertz Love Wagon! Think of all the ladies you can drive around in this!
FC: DO I LOOK LIKE A GODDAMN LYFT FOR WORKING GIRLS?
It is at this point where I learn something.
The best part about Vegas is anything crazy or unbelievable can be explained or justified by shrugging your shoulders, opening your palms upward and saying "It's Vegas!"
Hertz: It's Vegas!
FC: I am not driving (gesticulates widlly) THIS into the parking garage of the Palazzo for 4 days straight!
Hertz is not impressed with my pantomime.
They find me a brand new 2019 Honda Pilot with 19 miles on it. I hightail it up the highway to Circus Circus. Check in line is totally deserted. I am able to haul my bags up and get keys in 3 minutes flat. That's gotta be a fucking record.
Just as I arrive at my room I decide to send Rusty Shackleford a picture of me looking grumpy in front of the hertz love wagon.
RS: ARE YOU IN VEGAS?!?!?!??!?!?
FC: YES!!!! WHY ARE WE YELLING?!?!?!??!?
(image of Rusty coming down the escalator with the sign behind him that says WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS in the background)
FC: Oh dear god. I just got to the hotel to dump off my bags, you want a ride? I can be there in 20.
RS: Nah man we just landed a few min ago I was gonna take an uber
FC: By the time you get to the rideshare area it'll be 20 minutes. I can be there by the time you get to the curb. Seriously.
RS: LOL okay head over!
I look at my watch. Las Vegas Blvd traffic on a monday night? This isn't gonna work. I grab my coat and run back to the parking garage and tear out of the CC garage tires squealing all the way down. I bang a left onto Sammy Davis Jr Drive and haul ass to Spring mountain where I jump on 15 and get the car up to 100MPH between mandalay bay and 215.
McCarran Airport SUCKS in many regards and the airport pickup is one of them. It's not laid out well at all but it makes the cabbies plenty of money. I find it kinda funny because this year I'm picking up Rusty. Last year I was picking up a coworker of a buddy of mine who needed his SHOT show pass and there was no way to get it to him that night so I just said fuck it, give me the pass and I'll get it to him and drive him to the hotel. The year before, I picked up u/fluffy_butternut.
I guess I am the world's worst uber driver. I like doing the same bit over and over again like beating a dead horse so I can pickup Rusty one of to ways.
A: The classic Las Vegas Airport pickup. Drive to airport and park car on curb. Wait for metro PD to start yelling at you for parking on the sidewalk. Message Rusty to tell him I'm the one parked on the sidewalk.
B: In my best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression: COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE
My calculations were rough but I figured rusty should get to the curb right at the same time as me. If he's there already, we do B. If he's not, I'll do A.
The speed limit in the tunnel under the airport is 55. I'm doing 90. I fly up the ramp to Terminal 1 and tell him that I'll grab him at the American arrivals level. Just as I pull off to the curb to tell him I'm here he tells me he's just walked outside and I look up and see a classically hawaiian shirt standing at the curb. I pull the car forward, stop quickly and do my best Arnold. He laughs and hops in. I take him to his hotel and dump him off at registration as I park the car. I spend 20 minutes parking the car and I walk over to registration to find him still in line. The hotel is packed with people for the convention.
Behind us is a beautiful blonde engineer in town for what I'm guessing is World of Concrete based on the blueprints she's brought with her. I chat her up a bit until I see that she's got a wedding ring on her other hand. We head up to rusty's room where we find a king size bed and a hot tub 5 feet away. You don't even need to leave your bed to drown a hooker if you don't want to.
It's Vegas!
Rusty says lets go down to the casino and lose some money. We head down to the casino and lose some money at the craps table. This trip is not treating me nicely. I tell him I gotta tap out. Show in the morning.

That's psy_raven's theory.
https://www.reddit.com/conspiracy/comments/7b9r6m/im_resubmitting_this_because_another_user
People of Interest: (This list is a bit hard to follow because of the long names. This chart : http://www.businessinsider.com/a-whos-who-of-the-saudi-royal-family-2015-2 will help you clarify who is who.) King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud (King Saud. Deceased) : King of Saudi Arabia (1932-1953) King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Deceased) : 5th son of King Saud. King of Saudi Arabia until his death in 2015. Successor is King Salman Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth King Salman): Current King of Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA). 8th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud. Mohammad bin Salman (Henceforth Crown Prince Mohammad): Son of King Salman. Currently next in line to be king after King Salman. Muqrin bin Abdulaziz (Former Deputy Crown Prince. Henceforth Muqrin) : 9th son of deceased King Abdulaziz Ibn Saud. Was next in line to be king if King Salman had died before being crowned king. IS THE FATHER OF Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud! THE MAN KILLED IN THE HELICOPTOR CRASH ON 11/5/2017. Mansour bin Muqrin bin Abdulaziz Al Saud (Henceforth Mansour) : Son of Muqrin bin Abdulaziz. Died 11/5/2017, the day of the failed coup on the throne of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Alwaleed bin Talal (Henceforth Talal) : Billionaire businessmen. Grandson of King Saud. Has ties to DNC, Clinton, Podesta. Arrested 11/4/2017 for corruption. Owns The Four Seasons at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas (Four Seasons occupy the top floors of Mandalay Bay) Owns shares in Twitter as well as other high-tech silicon valley companies. Has had spats with Trump in the past. I know that's a mouthful of names, but bear with me. Just remember 4 names: Salman, Mohammad, Muqrin, and Mansour.
Do you remember how President Trump visited Saudi Arabia back in May of 2017? Do you remember how warmly he was greeted by King Salman? I do. It was a spectacle. Why was he greeted so welcomingly? After all, President Obama's reception was... shall we say, less than grand. Do you remember how after Trump's visit, Saudi Arabia started becoming more open in their policies? Women can drive there now. Did you notice how the Syrian rebellion became quiet? Did you notice how quickly ISIS was crushed after the visit? Why did Saudi Arabia suddenly want to get their oil companies listed on the NYSE? What could have caused this? To answer this, we have to look a little further back. Back to around 2010. It all goes back to fracking. You see, the Kindom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) has always relied heavily on its vast petrol reserves for wealth and prosperity. And they were ruthless. OPEC. The cartel of gasoline. You can't count the number of times throughout history that OPEC used its power to crush governments, manipulate prices, control supplies, and fund activities. If there ever was a international group of bullies, OPEC was it. And at the head of this organization was the mighty KSA. Then came the fracking boom. Suddenly, the world was no longer at the mercy of OPEC. This made them nervous. So, they did what they always do. They pumped out more petroleum, driving the price of gas to lowest in decades. What was their objective? To bankrupt these fracking businesses. KSA is rich. Very rich. They figured, we'll just drive gas prices unbelievably low and take the loss until all these fracking business startups crumble.
Do you remember how cheap gas got between 2013-2016? It was ridiculous, wasn't it? But what they didn't count on was just how cheap fracking had become. So many of these business didn't go bankrupt. So they took another step. To convince the world that fracking was bad for the environment. So they lobbied and supplied funds to the Democratic party. Why? Because the leftist are usually the ones who support ANY and ALL environmental regulations. Do you remember all the legal battles that fracking had to go through? Hell, it's still illegal in most blue states. Do you now understand why the Saudis donated so much money to the Clinton campaign? She was HEAVILY favored to win and if she did, you can bet your ass that illegalizing fracking would have been on the top of her list, returning us to dependence on arab oil. But... this didn't work either. Fracking continued. And then, a shitstorm of reality hit them hard. You see, KSA had vastly underestimated the amount of total shale reserves in North America. They had no idea that so much of this stuff exists. They thought maybe they could ride it out if the reserves would dry up in a decade or so. But nope. We have enough shale to supply us for at least 50 years. Hmmm... big problem. So, if you're King Salman, what do you do?
Well, there's only one thing you can do. Give up the reliance on oil production and try to use existing wealth to stay wealthy. To modernize its trade to include more than just exports of oil. They would need to build an entire industrial country from scratch. To do that, he needed the help of the USA. And that's where President Trump comes in. You see, the May 2017 meeting between Trump and King Salman (and his son Mohammad), was not just another meeting. It was a business meeting. King Salman asked Trump for help. Trump was more than willing to give it (like listing the oil companies on the NYSE) but his help would come with a price. Liberalization and the stop of illegal funding. No more contributions to American politics. No more supplying funds to terrorists or splinter groups. King Salman took the deal. All of a sudden, women were allowed to drive. ISIS was retreating. Syrian rebels suddenly ran out of ammunition. Yay. All good up to this point. Now comes the bad Not all the royalties in KSA are into this. They don't like losing the power they once had. What's worse, they don't want to become liberal. They now start resenting King Salmon. They start plotting against him. At the forefront of this movement is none other than the previous Deputy Crown Prince, Muqrin, and his son, Mansour (the man killed in the helicopter crash of 11/5/17).
October 1, 2017. The top floors of Mandalay Bay isn't Mandalay Bay, but is Four Seasons, owned by billionaire Talal. Who was occupying that whole floor that night? I can't remember where, but I heard that the whole floor was reserved for that week. Now, no one would do that unless they were Saudi royalty. We don't know for sure, but my guess is Crown Prince Mohammad. We know it wasn't King Salman, because he was in Russia at the time. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/oct/05/saudi-russia-visit-putin-oil-middle-east The plan is to take out the crown prince. Then kill King Salman. With the King and the Crown Prince dead, who is next in line? Yup. The former deputy crown prince, Muqrin. So, posing as terrorists who wanted to buy the guns for some terrorist attack, they dupe the CIA or FBI to supply the guns to the death squad. Their real plan is to climb the stairs right after the deal and kill the VIP in the floors above them. This is why the weapons cashe was located on the 32nd floor. They would only have to climb a few stairs or take the elevator up a little to start the killing. Now, here's what happened that night:
Paddock is the contact man to supply the guns. He meets a couple of assassins ahead of time (remember, the shooting starts at 10:05). At this point, Paddock is thinking this is a gun deal. Only a few magazines are loaded. He merely wants to show the customers how to load the chamber etc... What he doesn't know is that the advance team was sent to secure the floor. That all but one entry point to the floor would be barricaded (crucial since the reason Campos becomes suspicious of the blocked doors is what ultimately leads him to investigate) The reason for the barricade is that once the assault starts, the assassins want to make sure to impede the authorities as much as possible from reaching the top floors. CIA/FBI (or Trump's own intelligence) got wind of the assassination that was about to take place. Immediate action is taken to round up the assassins. Remember, we're talking about an army of assassins here. You can't kill a Crown Prince who's protected by 30 armed bodyguards by pulling a Jack Ruby. I estimate at least 20 assassins in total.
What the assassins didn't know was that the prince had disguised himself as a regular dude to enjoy the nightlife in Vegas. (Saudi princes have been known to do this) He had slipped away from the Mandalay and was at the Tropicana playing some cards. As soon as the FBI (or some other agency) learned of the assassination plot, they stormed the Tropicana and extracted the prince. The video can be seen here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVHmshtmDqo
They lead him out of the casino and escort him to the nearest helipad to be picked up. BUT, on the way, they encounter some resistance from a few assassins. Hence the firefight at the airport. Eventually, he makes it to the chopper and is whisked away. This explains the flight radar reports you see all over the net. Meanwhile, the FBI has gathered up as many of the assassins as they can. A few are armed with sidearms. They don't have rifles yet because the rendezvous with Paddock hasn't occurred yet. Hence the random firefights at various casinos that night. A few are killed. Hence the Laura Loomer videos of covered up dead people.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oxAZIpSUuM
The assassins already in Paddock's room gets a call. They are told that the Prince is not in his suite above. That he's being escorted out of the Tropicana. They start panicking. If they get caught in this plot to assassinate the crown prince, not only are they dead, but their employer is dead as well. They come up with a plan. They will kill Paddock and start firing on the crowd below. They're gonna make him a crazy lone gunman. So they kill Paddock. They break a window. They pick up a rifle and start firing at the crowd below. After a couple of mags, they realize that the other mags aren't loaded! Holy fuck. They start reloading as fast as possible. This is why the average time between bursts of fire is over 40 seconds. One of them gets an idea. Let me go to the other room and break that window and shoot at the fuel tanks at a nearby airport. This will draw the police away from the Mandalay and they can escape. So he goes and attempts just that. Unfortunately, the tanks do not blow up. By this time, Jesus Campos is knocking on the door. So they just unload on him. This is why there are (supposedly) 200 shots through the door. Campos escapes a lethal shot and calls in security. Now the assassins are getting nervous. They realize that someone in the hotel knows that someone is firing. They fire as much as they can. They are thinking as soon as this barrage is done, we run. But the swat team starts knocking on the door. Fuck. The assassins realize they're screwed. So the first one shoots himself. (This is the first of the single shots you hear at the end). The second assassin isn't so sure.
He doesn't want to die. So after 10 seconds of courage gathering, he shoots himself as well. The SWAT team bursts in and finds 3 bodies. They start asking questions. But because the FBI is already there (remember, they extracted the prince) they take over. They quickly assess the situation. They realize the implications. They remove the 2 assassins bodies, take a picture of Paddock lying there, and release it to 4chan to solidify their narrative. Paddock is made the patsy. Why? Because if a failed Saudi assassination attempt was responsible for the deaths, if the FBI/CIA had supplied the guns that killed 58 innocent people (not counting Paddock since he's an asset), then two things would happen. One, we would demand that we go to war with Saudi Arabia. And two, which ever organization that Paddock worked for would be utterly dismantled. Wew lads, I know. Quite a story. Now, let's fast forward to one month later. We know a missile was intercepted by the Saudi military on November 3 or 4th. This was probably the final effort by the anti King Salman group. This was their last ditch effort to kill him. OR, it was staged to give King Salman the excuse to round everyone up in retaliation of the assassination attempt. We know that MASSIVE raids and the rounding of Saudi princes took place on the 5th. I will guarantee you that all these people are anti Salman/Mohammad. And who was just killed? Yes. The son of Muqrin, Mansour. Mansour's death was retaliation. I have no doubt of it. He was executed. Ok, now that this has happened, what's next? Well, my guess will be that we will learn all of the funding that has been coming out of Saudi Arabia for the past decade. It will expose their connections to the DNC. We will learn that they have been at the root of all the turmoil in the Middle East. Then, they'll all be executed.
P.S. The story works just fine with Paddock as a private illegal guns dealer, meaning the FBI/CIA only helped to foil the assassination attempt. He doesn't have to be working for an alphabet agency. However, given the clues from his life style (or the utter lack of it), I'm betting that he was an asset.
/end

Kymberley is full of shit. Her story about what happened defies belief. This is her description of her and her friend escaping the venue via a fence that had been knocked down:
“But the gunfire wasn’t stopping this whole time. It wasn’t ceasing. It wasn’t slowing down. And It was directly behind us, following us. Bullets were coming from every direction. Behind us, in front of us, to the side of us. But I know, I just know, that there was someone chasing us. The entire time I felt this way. The farther we got from the venue, the closer the gunfire got. I kept looking back expecting to see the gunmen- and I say MEN because there was more than one person. There was more than one gun firing. 100% more than one.
“As we were running, we kept changing direction, because it felt like no matter what direction we took, we were being followed. So we ended up running in a weird triangular path. The first place I remember getting to was a parking lot, and I told Casie (who was slightly in front of me) we needed to get under one of the trucks. She turned to me and started her way back to me, and that is when the gunfire got even CLOSER than ever before. It was RIGHT THERE. It was within the parking lot. Everyone around us was panicking once again. So we ditched the idea of getting underneath a vehicle, and we continued the run for our lives. If you know me, you know I am a big girl, who is out of shape, and who definitely does not run for any reason. But I can tell you I ran like I have never run before.”
If the gunfire was coming from in front of them, why were they running towards it? If she said the gunmen were RIGHT THERE, then why wasn’t she able to see them? And weirdest of all, if they were running like hell, surrounded by gunmen on all sides, would she really take out her phone to call her husband and grandmother while still running (that was in a part of her description.)
Next, she says they ran towards Hooters casino but people were running out of that casino and so they assumed there were shooters in there, too. But here is a story from blackjack dealer about her experience at the Hooters casino. Her account of hundreds of concert goers taking refuge at the casino completely contradicts Kymberley’s story, where people were running out of Hooters.
Kymberley continues her story: “at some point, we ended up at the airport & even entered the building for safety. Everyone as we entered were screaming at the staff “IS IT SAFE IN HERE?” but we weren’t getting anyone to answer us, so after running about 30 feet into the building, not getting the answers we so desperately needed, we decided it, too, wasn’t a safe spot, so we got out of there quickly and continued running.”
This is completely absurd, not just because it doesn’t make any sense, but because to enter the airport they would have had to go all the way around the runways and then down towards the terminal. This is not a situation where they would just “end up” at the airport. They would have had to go a mile East along Tropicana, totally exposed, then another mile South on Paradise to get to the terminal. So after running for two miles to the airport, they just decided to turn around and run a mile back the way they came because nobody was answering their questions?
On top of that, it doesn’t make any sense to run to the airport. The most obvious thing to do would be to seek shelter at the nearest spot, which in this case would be the MGM grand that is right across from Hooters, or the hotel 6 nearby on the way to the airport, or one of the many gas stations and convenience stores and other places along the way. Just go on google maps street view in front of Hooters and trace their alleged route. It defies belief. I don't care how panicked and irrational you are. This is simply a non-starter.
Then she says they continued running. They crossed an intersection to get a limo driver to help them, then a cab driver who wouldn’t allow all five of them in. But wait a second, they were just at the airport. Why didn’t they get a couple of taxis at the airport? It’s Vegas for crying out loud — there’s a line of taxis a mile long waiting at the airport.
She says they then ran passed (sic) a liquor store where the workers gave her group some water. Well why didn’t they just stay in the liquor store with the friendly, helpful workers? But no, they were on a mission I guess. Which included passing by UNLV. And then, “I don’t remember at which time, but at some point, Ricky was reminded by Cassie that his Uncle Manny lived in Vegas. He called him, and we made a plan to meet him at a grocery store a couple miles away to get picked up.” Why couldn’t uncle Manny just come pick them up where they were? They had already run a good 3 and a half miles by this point, at least. She says they were exhausted and vomiting. She admits she was a heavy woman who was totally out of shape. Why choose to run another couple of miles? They felt it would be safer to run down the street for two miles than seek shelter inside a store or building waiting for their ride?
Finally, one more absurdity stands out. If you read her post, you see that she was totally in shock after the incident. Just a complete mess. But according to this newspaper report, her “final Facebook photos are a pair of cowboy boots with an American flag and her new Harvest 91 Festival tattoo that includes the date of the shooting and the text ‘Country Strong.'” Really? Apparently, that was her way of coping. I don't buy it. Too soon.
Notice that the evolving narrative around Kymberley is that she is dead, either from a seizure perhaps induced by post-traumatic stress or killed in a plot to bury her story of multiple shooters. Both narratives want to sell you the idea that she is dead and that the shootings were real, either from Paddock or from multiple shooters. But the truth, as usual, is that Kymberley is basically just another crisis actor designed to confuse the narrative and bury this massive hoax in a thick layer of fog and uncertainty. In other words, Standard Operating Procedure. She's a special type of crisis actor since her death was faked. I wonder what she got out of the deal. If she really had terminal cancer, maybe she was willing to trade faking her death for financial security for her husband and daughter. I guess we'll never know...

So, you wanna go to SHOT show? You think it's all fun and games? Get to play with guns? See Jesse James and R. Lee Ermey? SHOT show is the annual pilgrimage of the unwashed masses to Las Vegas to rub elbows with youtube celebrities, bloggers and overseas businessmen copying US made equipment and share infectious disease.
If you love guns, gambling and gonorrhea - SHOT show is for you! It is not my typical idea of a good time. I am not a big fan of Las Vegas.
However: I do attend for a few reasons. First, I do enjoy travel and I'm platinum on AA so I can usually score an upgrade. Second, industry people are in there that I do hundreds of thousands if not millions of dollars with business with so it's nice to put a face with the name and see what deals are out there. SHOT for me has been a bust for the past few years. Being a value guy, I want to buy at $1000 and sell at $3000 and as of recently the gun business is more like buy for $1 and sell for $1.10 if you get what I mean.
We used to do business at SHOT and now it's just checking in on foursquare, instagram and rubbing elbows with bloggers and the like. I want to make money, not spend money so this is very annoying to me.
Anyways, onto the play by play.
Monday, January 22nd. One day before SHOT show.
The TSA line is a shitshow thanks to, well TSA. I have pre check and breeze right through.
I slog my way to the lounge, as shitty as it is to wait for my winged chariot to DFW. I have gone from being in an abusive relationship with Delta to being in an abusive relationship with AA. Although if you really want to experience the battered spouse feeling, UA is a few gates over.
I board my flight to Dallas/FW and my Renton assembled chariot is having a problem with one of the ring laser gyros, the hate agent tells us we are delayed for an indeterminate amount of time. Even as an AA Plat, I have no cleared upgrades. I am number 4 on the list with one seat open to Dallas/FW. I am 39/61 for Dallas/FW to LAX.
Fuck my life.
I gate check my bags to make life easier for me and the rest of the folks slumming it. If I don't have to worry about being short on time, I like to gate check to free up bins for those who are not as fortunate. Eventually I board and ask the FA to say hi to the captain and get a ride report. Light chop all over north texas today and we're going to take the long way around the field due to wind.
Me: I guess it's true. Dallas always does seem to blow a little harder in the postseason...
CA: Hahhahaha
FO: You got that right! Go eagles!
Having brightened the day of the flight crew, I head back to my MCE seat in Y and kick back and relax by listening to my Rumours, my favorite fleetwood mac album on my ipod.
We land at Dallas an hour and a half late eating into my 4 hour spa layover I had planned. I hightail it to the Centurion lounge in terminal D, my home away from home. Thankfully I don't need a massage since I brought my friend Laura some homemade chocolate rice crispy squares and she gave me a one hour massage and gave me a happy ending.
I grab a plate and help myself to some of the excellent chicken and some mashed red potatoes and bacon It is cheesy and DELICIOUS. Between that and the poblano rice, I can feel it going straight to my thighs. No, I do not care. NOM NOM NOM
https://imgur.com/a/WBcyd
The lounge is packed. The bar is full and I grab a quick single malt as I have my meal since American's not going to feed me. They begin boarding to LAX as I walk out of the lounge. I make it to the gate and the entire plane has boarded because the screens say they are boarding group 9.
Giving the FA a friendly nod, I ask to say hi to the captain and I stride through J and say hello to the two gentlemen flying today. Aviation nerd protip: CHECK YOUR ROUTING!
I didn't, but I had a hunch since arriving from the east we'd get the ANJLL 1 or the HLYWD 1 arrival. I got a 50/50 shot. Let's see how good I am.
Drop my bags at the threshold, poke my head in.
Me: Howdy guys, we still looking good for the Hollywood 1 tonight?
CA: Man, you did your homework yes we are! GABBL transition as a matter of fact!
Damn I'm good.
FC: Nice! I know you guys take a rash of crap from drunk Parker so I like to say hello to the folks who do the heavy lifting and I'm a total airplane dork so it's cool to check the place out.
CA: I'm an airplane dork too! I'm Jeff Rowland, nice to meet ya!
SUPER nice guy. He gave me a tour of the airplane, even took a picture of me in the left seat.
https://imgur.com/a/xVIy6
Here he is showing me some stuff around the airplane. He gives me the grand tour of the 787-9 including this neat feature that actually measures how many G's they have on landing so they know whether or not they need an overweight landing inspection or not. AMAZING airplane. I'm shown all the bells and whistles and they tell me how fun the plane is to fly. Jeff takes a few pics of me in the best seat of the house. I tell the guys I'll see them at the in and out burger on Sepuldeva and I hike back to my seat in W.
The FA's were wondering where I was, and they gave away my assigned seat. I take an empty center aisle seat and make life easier for everyone. W in the 787-9 is a solid hard product. The BE Aerospace MI-Q seat is a good ride whether in it for 3 hours to LAX or 13 to CDG like I was in a few months ago. https://imgur.com/a/iPHVh
The boarding door closes for an on time departure and I watch another airplane movie - American Made with Tom Cruise. He's so dreamy. Jeff's PA's were really lame and had a whole bunch of people laughing in the back on the way to LA. The flight was not long enough. The landing is a perfect grease job on 24L and we await a tug to get towed into gate 41 at LAX. I say thanks again to the flight crew - worthy of note, http://andystravelblog.boardingarea.com/2018/01/29/pilots-lette
My next hop via a 737 to LAS is uneventful. I stop at the Centurion lounge for some freshly squeezed OJ. It is DELICIOUS as AA's app tells me my bags are being unloaded.
I grab my things and hop in the last car Hertz has in the gold section - a 2016 Toyota Corolla. Times are rough. I'm at Circus Circus again. I check in and tell the lady about the last time I was there with the neighbors and the extremely loud sex. Full story: tail end of this - https://www.reddit.com/guns/comments/5podeq/shot_2017my_tales_of_adventure_in_las_vegas/
She damn near busts a gut laughing and upgrades me to a skyrise room and gives me a line pass and complimentary buffet.
I arrive to my room where housekeeping has not cleaned it to my exacting specifications. Specifically, there are like three hairballs from a cat in the chair next to the desk. I ask for another room and they set it up for me. It's now 1AM. In and out burger is closed.
Fuck.
Tuesday, January 23rd SHOT Show Day One
You gotta get into the palazzo garage before 8AM or you are not getting a spot. I get in at 8:01 and miraculously find a spot. They are doing so much construction at the resort that I don't recognize it. I grab my pass and check in with some other industry associates. My first day is semi-eventful as I check out the sig 365, a very promising concealed carry product as well as a few other really neat things and many many useless items.
I run into u/chugbleach in the basement and we trade stories. He shows me some neat stuff he's been working on. We plan to dine later in the week and I continue walking the show when I see the most amazing booth ever.
Backstory: https://www.reddit.com/guns/comments/7ag6oj/gsg_stg_44/dp9u9hw/
I let fluff buy the hook, he posts $120 to win $100 if he gets his HMG gun by the end of Q1. If gun arrives on time, he gets $100 from me. If no, I get $120 from him.
I walk back to chug.
FC: DUDE DUDE DUDE YOU GOTTA SEE THIS COME QUICK
CB: Okay lets go
We walk briskly not 100 feet. I stop quickly. Chug looks confused.
I gesticulate wildly to our right.
This is what we see.
I crack up laughing and can barely contain myself. This is the greatest thing I have seen in weeks.
On that note it is time to take a break for lunch. I head up to one of my vendors who has a hospitality suite for the show and they are serving jambalaya for lunch every day. As a Louisiana boy, we do love jambalaya. There's a reason I spend lots of money with them. I eat and have a coke as I trade gun jokes with other gun dealers. I wander around the show and nothing else jumps at me.
I walk the footbridge over to the Wynn to see how the house is doing. The poker room is full. I draw $2500 from my credit line and head down to the craps table to throw some dice. I have some mixed success as it's getting late and I want to hit the in and out burger so as I'm getting ready to leave, Laura sends me a bunch of filthy text messages about what she wants to do to me when I get back. My chips and raging boner leave the tables quickly as I duck into the bathroom to tell her that if she wants to treat me like a prisoner on a conjugal visit - I went to 8 years of catholic school, she's entering a world of pain. She says game on.
After a quick trip to the cage to cash out, I'm up or down something like $100. I swing by in and out burger for a double double. It is delicious. Sleepy time.
Wednesday, January 24th. Day 2 of SHOT show.
Alarm goes off at 7:45 AM. I wash up, eat and get breakfast. In the garage by 8:15. Still manage to find a spot! Attendance is down this year. I get in line at Larue. They run out of dillo dust at 8:39. This is the line at 8:35 https://imgur.com/a/KLHrg
The show opens at 8:30. Fuck my life. I grab a dillo and some stickers for some friends and a few HK calendars. I wander around and talk to the guys over at Franklin Armory and their new SBR that isn't an SBR, SBS that isn't an SBS and rifle that isn't really a rifle BUT IS STILL A FIREARM. The projectiles they want to sell have fin stabilization and it's like a 55 grain flying Lombardi trophy. It's an interesting idea but I'm not 100% certain I would buy one personally. I trade war stories with a few other friends I meet up with at the show. I head down to the basement and I'm looking at a few accessories from Tactical Walls.
Just as I'm ready to leave - Joe Mantegna shows up and says hi to the reps.
FC: Mr Mantegna! I love your work! Can I get a picture?
JM: Sure.
Someone grabs my phone and snaps a pic
FC: You are great in the simpsons as Fat Tony. Just the best!
JM: (in fat tony voice) I don't get mad. I get stabby.
FC: That's awesome! Thanks! Enjoy the show!
I send the pics to some friends who enjoy snappy Mamet plays and they are all jealous. I head down to the basement. The ATF booth is vacant due to the government shutdown. So is the FBI booth. Oh well. I head upstairs to the manufacturer supplier section and I find out that Olympic Arms is still in business making things. I do a lap and get some business cards from some precision machine companies that can make some elaborate parts. Jambalaya again for lunch. Nom nom nom.
I head down to FN to talk shop with the guys down there and give them shit. FN's new innovation is a two tone FDE/Black gun. So now 50% of the gun does not have to match. I trade barbs with Mike Hoffman and we debate the age old question, is it really gay if you can suck your own cock? Just as I mention this, Steve Bannon shows up at the booth. That's my stop. I say hello to the director of commercial sales on my way out and go to the Knights booth where I find they're making 6.5 Creed stuff now. Interesting how quickly that cartridge has caught on. I talk shop with a few of the KAC guys and then I steal some more HK Kalendars for friends back home.
I hit the Circus Circus buffet with my free pass for the unpleasantness and it is not that great at all. They ran out of roast beef. I mean, really? SHOT SHOW IS IN TOWN! We are beef eating gun owners, and you're gonna run out of roast beef? This would never happen at the Wynn, an amazing property. I make a mental note to sell my MGM Mirage stock and buy some Wynn in the morning. I head back to the craps table and lose a shitload of money. I witness a heater happen after I color up and watch people go nuts. My luck at MGM properties has not been good. Ugh. I don't feel like doing gunnit live and head to sleep early.
Thursday, January 25th. Day 3 of SHOT show.
I message Chug and let him know that it's gotta be tonight if we're gonna hang since I fly out Friday night for Boston. We plan to make plans for dinner. I head to the show and get there at 3 minutes to 8. One of my best customers calls me wanting an XM2010. I head over to Remington and through some finagling they manage to say YES WE CAN SELL IT EVEN THOUGH WE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SELL IT. I work up a quote and get the customer the info and tell him what's what. I visit the nighthawk custom booth where they have a new gun chambered in .45 APC.
https://imgur.com/a/9bNe7
I kid with a few FBI guys about their attention to detail. I saunter about the show. Leatherman Tool Group always has some nice things to play with. Tim Leatherman is engraving tools for people with his autograph. I'm happy with all of his products I own and I stop by to shake his hand and tell him that my wave has saved my ass on a hundred different occasions and I once resurrected a Ford off the side of the road. He says he loves hearing the stories and he's a pretty nice guy.
I wander about a little more and I find myself over at the Emerson Knife Company booth looking around.
For those not in the know, Emerson has a bunch of specwar types as customers. Damn good knives and operator customers. One of them is behind the table wearing a badge that says JOHN SMITH - JOHN SMITH INC. He's got arms that are as thick as my legs and he looks like a Navy Seal. He bolts upright from his seat and looks at my wrist.
"Is that a 1675?"
FC: Sure is! Damn good eye! My dad won it in an underground poker game in Hong Kong in 1968 from a couple of navy guys on shore leave that flew F4's off Dixie Station.
"Holy crap, that's fucking awesome!"
We talk watches and guns and killing people for a while. He says he's in the navy and the budweiser insignia necklace he is wearing tells me everything I need to know. Nice guy. I wonder what his real name is as the show closes down and as I walk out the magpul booth gives me a laugh. A paper sign on the door says "DOOR IS LOUD AF CLOSE GENTLY"
I'm not kidding - https://imgur.com/a/GgSkU
I head over to Chug's hotel and he gives me the grand tour. It's way nicer than my hotel. We go out and have dinner. I'm asked if I like Thai.
FC: Tie good, you like shirt?
Nobody gets my simpsons jokes. We go to dinner where a good time is had by all. Chug gets a call and needs to drop off a SHOT show pass to a co-worker of his flying in. As opposed to all the mechanics of a dead drop at the palazzo etc I tell him fuck it, just give it to me and I'll pick him up from the airport. In exchange, I tell him I want all the leftover chicken wings from the Thai place.
It's a deal. I grab the wings and head to McCarran. There's a guy in a BRZ hauling ass and I decide to see what this shitbox can do. I get the Corolla up to 115 MPH on the highway before backing down to a more sensible speed. After 5 minutes of MARCO / POLO I find the fellow and give him his shot show pass and a ride to his hotel. I find it funny that last year I ran an unapproved uber substitute and here we are again and the same thing is happening. I'm offered gas money or a beer after the show and I tell him hey, it's your first time at SHOT - enjoy the show, don't sweat it.
I hightail it up the strip to the Palazzo where I play a bit and eventually see a heater in progress. I split the 6/8 for $120 each and they hit. I press it and they hit again. Maybe this won't be a bad trip after all. Table craps out and I cash out still down a few bucks but better than when I started.
By the time I make it back to the room, it's 4AM. I eat the chicken wings. They're delicious.
Friday, January 26th. Day 4 of SHOT show.
I've gotten most of what I want to get done, done. I ordered some Firearm Instructor body armor from one of my guys since lots of people want me dead first thing in the AM and things were going good. I sleep in and debate what I want for breakfast when I realize things are going a little too good. Nothing really bad has happened this trip yet. I pack up and get ready to leave the hotel when I get a push notification.
MOTHERFUCKER
My flight to Boston has been canceled.
My confirmed first class seats on one of the hardest to upgrade legs in the entire AA route network - LAX to BOS, gone. AA proactively books me on the flight leaving LA a few hours later IN COACH. A middle seat, even. No, just no. I call American and they tell me the plane is broken. Damnit. I look on the app for acceptable reroutings and there is nothing available in first. I say fuck it, I'll deal with this shit later. I have the rental car until midnight, lots of time to make a new plan. I check out of the hotel, throw my bags in the car and head down to the show and it's a freaking ghost town. Parking spaces everywhere. I say bye to a few folks as my phone sends me a notification. WSJ: STEVE WYNN ACCUSED OF DECADES OF SEXUAL MISCONDUCT
Oh FUCK MY LIFE. I bought the stock back on Wednesday. GODDAMNIT STEVE WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT
I skip lunch and walk across the street to the Wynn and their corporate office.
You see, I have a simple theory. If the allegations are false, they should have no problem sending someone out to listen to my concerns and say the allegations are false and here's everything we're doing to fight it. If the allegations are true, they'll send down hired goons to throw me out the door.
It's sorta like spousal infidelity. If A finds evidence of B cheating, credit card statements, sexts, racy pictures, etc - and A confronts B and B admits it and says I want a divorce, B is guilty. If B says A is cheating on them what the fuck are you doing looking at my credit card statements and phone you're the one that's wrong and invading my privacy get the fuck out of my house - B is really guilty.
That's the theory. If they go full retard and bounce me off the property, the stock is probably going to go down some more. If they address the concerns, things should not be as bad.
Since I walked through the property the last time I was in town, I knew where the corporate office was. The name on my broker statement says WYNN RESPORTS and so did the sign on the doors. I walk through the doors and to the end of the hallway where there's another electronically locked door that is unlocked.
There's a security guard who is nonplussed sitting at a desk wondering if I'm lost. I explain to him that I'm a shareholder and I want to know what this company is doing about this catastrophe. He says he can't say/do anything and I'm instructed to leave. I ask him if he can take a message. He says yes, and I'm like you just said you can't do anything. So what's that supposed to mean?
I argue with him about what he supposedly can and cannot do as I eat raspberry macrons that have been plated at the reception area of the corporate office. THESE BETTER BE THE BEST FUCKING MACARONS I HAVE EVER EATEN GODDAMNIT. They are. Fuck.
He tells me that my best bet is to talk to someone else at the resort, not him. Fine.
I leave and head to the concierge desk - because from one concierge to another, we can solve problems. I explain the situation and instead of routing me to the press office or investor relations - they give me a phone and tell me to speak to guest services. AKA the people that help you with your stay as a guest of the hotel. I give the lady taking the message about 15 minutes worth of comments and she's assured me that they'll be passed along to management.
Given the circumstances I think that's the best I'm going to do today. Now, there's the issue of me being stuck in vegas for another night. I look down at my phone and AA has offered three itineraries flying out of McCarran tomorrow IN FIRST CLASS that gets me to Boston in a timely fashion. I jump on the 625AM flight to Charlotte. This means I need to be at the car rental by 525AM and out the door around 0430. Fuck my life. And I have nowhere to sleep/showeshit/shave.
As I'm walking back to the esplanade to cross back over to the Palazzo where my car is, I notice the registration desk. I get in line and a lovely lady asks what she can do for me.
I tell her that I'm a shareholder and I'm pretty mad about the way the company is handling their sex offender in chief. And given the $18 haircut I took on the stock today, if there's an angry shareholder discount on a room tonight I think that would be more than fair given the circumstances. She agrees and gets me a bottle of water and the manager. The manager asks me if I've stayed at the hotel before, the answer is yes and asks to see my ID so she can see if she can plug me in at a repeat guest rate.
A few minutes go by and I wait patiently at the desk when I'm tapped on the shoulder.
There's two former NFL linebackers, one with his back towards me and the other introducing himself as the director of security.
Hmmm. Lets see. For those not in the know, there's only one exit in and out of the wynn registration desk.
If there's two bodies on me, there's gotta be at least two more at each side of the wall behind it that I can't see, I figure 4 sets of eyes running the eye in the sky all with their eyes glued to the monitors, the director of security is holding my ID which means he's already got my play, my comps, my markers, run me through central credit, my red card, he's got metro running me for wants/warrants and there's probably an unmarked metro ford next to a service exit with an open door and a seat reserved for me in the back.
I look down at my watch. The market is closed. I can't sell. Fuck. Because there is no way in hell this stock is holding $180 monday morning.
Quickly, I bang out a message to my brother letting him know I am about to be arrested at the Wynn and to start googling Las Vegas bail bonds.
The two security guys tell me to step away from the front desk and they want to know what the hell I'm doing. I tell them I want answers from the management of this company about how they're handling this disaster. They say I can't just walk into a casino corporate office and ask to speak to someone.
Well, I just did. Why can't I?
They said it represents a major security risk and a breach of their perimeter. After all, Mr. Wynn takes his security at the hotel very seriously.
Me: I suppose if I were a sex offender with hired goons, I'd take my security seriously too. And if you really didn't want people going back there - last time I checked, this is a casino. The doors have locks. Perhaps you should have oh I don't know, locked them?
Wynn Security: What makes you think you can just walk in here and talk to us like that?
Me: I'm a stockholder. Technically you work for me.
Wynn Security: You honestly expect that a big company like us is going to send someone out of the corporate office to talk to a guy like you about a thing like this? That never happens in corporate america.
Me: That's strange. Michael Moore did exactly that and that's what made him famous. What's your point?
We bantered in the registration area of the Wynn for something like an hour and 45 minutes as the director of security wandered back and forth. They never backed down with the questions and I never backed down from the answers. A lot of casino security is former law enforcement so they're looking for that time you change your story like on an episode of cops. For instance, if it was cops it would go like
Cop: who's drugs are these?
1: Never seen em before
fast forward 2 min
1: I mean my friend smokes pot, maybe it's his
Cop: I thought you said you never seen em before?
fast forward 2 min
1: So I smoke a little pot okay
Cop: I thought you said it might be your friends pot?
fast forward 2 min
1: yeah it's my pot
They were looking for a reason to throw me out and as far as I can tell, they probably still are. I'm sorta expecting a registered letter in the mail barring me from the property in a week. If I start yelling, it's disorderly conduct and they have a case. If start pushing someone around, same thing. But if I speak candidly and gesticulate wildly and raise cogent points about how every single hotel employee I've dealt with thus far owns a combined total of zero shares in the company - they have no skin in the game and I do. So, they can't really criticize my opinion as wrong because I'm the stockholder not them. At least, that's my opinion. I could be wrong.
Well, the goons disagreed with me and said I was wrong. They also said that this could have been accomplished with a phone call. I said no, because you wouldn't take a phone call seriously. And now you're taking this seriously. So, match point: FC.
They didn't like that. It would not surprise me in the least if Steve Wynn was in the security booth with a radio telling his guys to find some reason to arrest me and have me sent to Clark County booking. This guy just feels guilty as sin. I can't prove it but my gut has usually been right about this sort of thing.
As I'm waiting for my inevitable arrest and booking, I wonder if American Airlines will allow me another flight change due to temporary incarceration. Because there's no way I'll be able to leave the state with an ROR or a signature bond out. I look over at Mean Joe Greene Jr and tell him I was too angry to eat lunch and I'd like to have a seat before my blood sugar crashes and my head hits the floor and Steve sends me a bill for the shattered italian marble.
He gestures towards a chair in the reception area and I have a sit. He offers to bring me another water. I decline. He brings me a water anyways. I consume both the waters as compliments of the house as a sign of untoward cooperation.
Out of the corner of my eye I see the director of security talking to two metro PD guys with handcuffs out. I hear over the radio they're asking for a rover to take me down to the security office for fingerprinting and photographs. He is gesticulating wildly.
The director of security comes back over and he tries to get me to crack on my story. I tell him I'm here as a shareholder as a private citizen demanding accountability of the management. I will not apologize for walking through an unlocked door to the corporate office asking to speak to someone to hear out my concerns, I will not apologize for going to the concierge since the previous person was very unhelpful and I will not apologize for expecting the highest standards of a fortune 1000 company chairman and CEO. And until you pony up and buy some stock, I'm not about to take a lecture about what is and isn't acceptable behavior from people who don't have skin in the game protecting what should be by all accounts a registered sex offender.
He looks back at Metro PD.
They shrug.
They've got nothing chargeable on me.
Hell, I'm not even counting cards this time.
Next thing I know he quickly walks away and returns with a late 20's hispanic fellow who introduces himself as the hotel manager. He says that he's gotten a report from security and that Mr. Wynn's private life he cannot comment on but the concerns I have will be sent up towards management.
FC: So you're the hotel manager? So you report to Matt Maddox. You tell him that this is a mess. Nobody comes back from this sort of thing. Not Harvey Weinstein. Not Louis CK. Not Matt Lauer. Not Bill O'Reilly. Not Bill Cosby. Not Kevin Spacey. Not Charlie Rose. Not Al Franken. And the LAST time this happened at Mirage, a shareholder revolt wound up sending the company into the hands of MGM. What's to stop Sheldon from across the street from doing the same thing? You tell them that.
The manager nods and offers me a room at a rate, inclusive of resort fee and taxes of $335/night. I take out my phone, look at the Hotel Tonight app and realize that I'm being charged more money than if I were to book the room from a consolidator.
Now, I don't mind the lie about understanding where I'm coming from. I do mind the insult to my intelligence. I am handed back my ID and the hotel manager offers his business card. I take his business card and go over to the cage. I close my credit line and take my deposit out of the cage. I'm down for the trip. Fuck this shit, I'll deal with it later. I call my brother and tell him that I've been released. We look at some flights and to get back to Boston will require another night in Las Vegas. Everything leaving tonight is full due to the conventions closing up.
AA has some seats open in first via Charlotte and Philly, I take the Charlotte flight leaving at 6:30 AM from McCarran and they confirm me seats in first all the way to Logan. This is the only thing to go right today. I purchase some clean clothes since I will not have time to do laundry in Boston anymore due to the delay and head over to the palace station oyster bar. The wait is about 2 hours but I make some friends in line while I'm there. I am torn between the alaskan chowder and the bouillabaisse. I ask Steve behind the bar what he thinks is best. He says do the bouillabaisse. I tell him that sounds excellent, and to add extra lobster. I ask him how long, he says could be 30 minutes but check back in 20. I tell him I'm gonna go hit the tables and I'll be back in 20. The timer on my phone begins counting down.
I belly up to the nearest craps table and I drop my cash down. I tell them I want it in black and red and the croupier complies. I bet the 6/8 split with mixed success and the pass line with odds. The shooter misses the point. I look down at my dwindling stack of chips and there's 15 minutes left.
Fuck it. Go big or go home. Lets get this shit over with. The point comes off. I drop $100 on the pass line. New shooter gets the dice and the come out roll hits a 10.
I look at the gal with the whip. I throw her a stack of chips.
FC: Full odds on the ten, $200 hard way, give me all the numbers and a nickel c and e.
New shooter proceeds to hit every number on the board, midnight, yo and a speed limit. Pass line pays even money. Pass odds pays 2-1. I'm looking down at a big stack of chips. What the fuck just happened?
I drop $100 on the pass line again, the point comes out for an 8. I take full odds and all the numbers. New shooter hits every number on the board, midnight, yo, except the 8. The guy next to me has the all or nothing at all working so the only thing left to hit is the 8 and it's gonna pay 175:1. The 8 does not hit. Everyone is chasing the 8'er from Decatur.
I look down at my stack and the table limit and the boxman.
FC: hey Joe, what's the juice on laying the 8?
Joe: 5 points!
I take down my pass line odds.
FC: I want everything off and I'll lay the 8 for a dime.
Everyone at the table looks at me like I'm a lunatic. I slide over two purple chips and two green for the vig.
Time remaining until bouillabaisse: 8 minutes.
Lets see what happens. The dice bang around a bunch of more times. I'm ahead for this trip. Way ahead. Next thing I know, the gal with the whip calls no roll. One of the dies have left the table.
Time remaining until bouillabaisse: 4 minutes.
This is my stop.
FC: Take down my lay, and I'll color up.
The boxman colors me up, I leave a nice tip for the crew and start to walk over to the cage to cash in. I hear screaming and profanity, I turn around and I see the dealers stacking chips. The shooter has 7'd out.
Time remaining until bouillabaisse: 2 minutes.
There's a long line at the cage. I walk back to the oyster bar and I see a big bowl with a plate covering it. Steve behind the bar has thought of everything.
I turn the plate over and look down at my stack of chips. Maybe today won't be so bad after all.
https://imgur.com/a/bjK7R
The bouillabaisse is delicious. The win is even more delicious. I nom my way to the bottom of the bowl and settle up the bill. I leave Steve a nice tip as I head over to the Palazzo to say hi to some friends. I find myself at a craps table you can hang meat upon. This is not good. It's getting late and I head over to my room at the Mandalay Bay.
Now, here's the fucked up part. This girl I've been hooking up with didn't hook up with me before I left for SHOT. She's been messing with my brain for a whole week. I check in to the Mandalay Bay where there's a goddamn pornstar convention going on.
FML.
I find myself down at a craps table at 11PM and bringing a frontier flight attendant named Amber back to my room. The lucky streak continues. My flight leaves in a few hours. I kick her out of my room and pass out.
Flight leaves at 625 for CLT. Need to be at McCarran at 525. Out the door of the hotel by 5AM at the latest. I set my alarm.
*Saturday, January 27th. *
I wake up to see the sun shining through my hotel room. I look down at the alarm clock. 8:01AM.
My long standing joke is that I sleep like a dead prostitute. The evening of ravenous illegal in 48 states sex has taken its toll. Fuck. I grab the phone and press the button for guest services. I turn on the speaker as I open my bag wide and just stuff everything in as fast as I can. I throw my boots on as I tell them to check me out over the phone. I haul ass downstairs to the garage and I get to McCarran and board the shuttle to Terminal 1. I walk up to the AA desk knowing I am 11 different kinds of fucked. Nancy the gate agent starts working on my departure. AA's rule is 2 hours from departure on a flat tire. That's 8:25 AM. It's a few minutes before 9. Nancy the great agent cannot get anything to work. She has to put me in the special services line. By the time I get there, they tell me I'm flying standby and I'm on the flight to Philly leaving at 1PM in the afternoon. There is no way in hell they can get me on the 10AM to Phoenix.
My cousin is getting married in Boston and she is going to fucking kill me. I told her I'd be there around 6PM on the rebooking. And now I'm going to be leaving for Philly in 4 hours. Granted, the Amex Centurion Lounge has freshly squeezed OJ but that's not going to be enough today. I run to TSA and get cleared. I run past the Centurion to head straight for the Phoenix gate. Hopefully other folks have had an irish layover. The gate agent there starts working me and she says that they have two open seats and that they're gonna get me on. Just sit tight. I step to the side to let her help a few other folks gate check bags. The clock is ticking and her colleague closes the boarding door as I'm standing next to the gate looking fucked. I take a deep breath and try to keep it together.
A tap on the shoulder.
"Sir, your boarding pass. Exit row window. I've taken the liberty and called back to make sure there's space in the overhead for my bags so you don't have to gate check. You are good to go."
I look up at the three ladies working the podium.
FC: Can I hug any of you?
Gate Agent 1: No
Gate Agent 2: I'm sick
Gate Agent 3: Sure, why not?
I head behind the counter and give her a hug. She seems pleased.
I hightail it to the door. Gate agent 2 opens it up for me. I run down the jetway like a charging rhino, Chris Christie like. The flight attendants greet me by name and they realize that my nose is bleeding from the 8 ball I shared with Amber a few hours back. The FA points at my nose and asks me if I'd like to step into the lav. I realize it's probably pretty bad. I leave my bags in the galley and duck in and I stuff a bunch of paper in my nose as an ersatz tampon. I walk back out, grab my bags and I declare to the entire plane it's the dry air not a cocaine problem.
Nobody believes me.
I take my seat and there's an empty seat between me and an in uniform FA on the way home. We chat a bit and Cathy thinks my story is hilarious. She even gets on AA's PALL list for the flight to Boston and checks and says I'm number one on standby R4. A nice lady, I offer her one of my extra LaRue Dillo's. She thinks they're cute.
The working FA walks back and looks down at the traveling FA and says very discreetly there's a 40 minute ground hold due to PHX losing a runway. This is gonna be really really tight. My connecting flight to Boston is not looking good. We wait the 40 minutes for the hold and make it to PHX about 15 minutes behind schedule. I bolt to the Boston gate. I ask if they've cleared all the standby passengers. They say yes. I say I should be number one and they hand me a ticket in coach.
FC: Any way I can talk you into a seat in the front of the plane?
The hate agent just looks at me funny. He does not seem to think that's happening. He asks me if I have status on the airline. Sure do. He says no promises.
I tell him no sweat, I'm gonna go take a leak and come back around in 5.
I walk back up and he hands me my new boarding pass.
https://imgur.com/a/IJuPe
I call my cousin and tell her that I'm gonna be a few hours late. Great ride all the way into Boston. I sleep like a dead prostitute.
https://imgur.com/a/RKMSu
Just as we cruise past the city of big shoulders, the FA wakes me up.
"Mr Hayden, would you like some ice cream?"
I look at my neighbor who is a middle age female executive and she is plowing through hers like Sherman through Atlanta.
FC: You know what, Chuck? I've always wanted to say this. I'll have what she's having.
https://imgur.com/a/our5R
Ice cream on the ground, delicious.
Ice cream on a plane, FUCKING FANTASTIC.
FC out.