jack13
Well-Known Member
The fam rented a house and got together yesterday. Found this guy in the garbage disposal. As these things tend to do, it became an ongoing joke, but also an object of curiosity. Has anyone seen this before/know what it is?
Anyone seen this little guy before?
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jack13
Well-Known Member
We're all getting back together tomorrow. I'll definitely report that answer!
AkTom
Well-Known Member
He from Dune.
a reminder not to put your hand down the garbage disposal...
or your leg and whole body
Steveruch
Well-Known Member
Plastic soldier meets road side bomb in middle east?
the horror version of 'toy story'.....lol
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jack13
Well-Known Member
I knew I could count on you-all!
His name is Kristopher McDaniels. He led a one-man charge into an enemy stronghold to rescue 3 of his fellow soldiers in Afganistan, but lost his leg from enemy fire in the process. It went down like this:
McDaniels paused momentarily alongside the door. He could hear the guards arguing just on the other side. His training had taught him to understand their words, and it was quite clear that one of the men was not a fan of McDonalds, claiming the hamburgers made him sick, and that the sausage patties they cooked for breakfast made the grill unclean for a Muslim to eat from later. McDaniels knew then that the argument was not going to be over anytime soon, so he crafted a plan.
Holding his sidearm in one hand, he reached out and tested the door handle with the other. It turned easily and noiselessly. As the latch cleared the plate, he took a long breath to calm himself, then pushed open the door and shot both men in the head, killing them both instantly. Sometimes the best plans are the simplest. He scanned the room quickly and saw no more men, just stairs going up, and a doorway into another room.
McDaniels knew also that his gunshots would certainly bring others, but he could see no one coming through the open doorway. He yelled out in Afganese, "Just a slight weapons malfunction!", then cringed when he heard himself say it. Well, it was too late now. He could hear some shouting, and the sound of boots coming toward the stairs. They were not sure what was going on, but they were coming to find out. He moved to a location where he would have the best vantage point and waited.
After a moment a pair of legs appeared at the top of the steps, where they stopped. "What happened down there?" was the inquiry from the top of the steps. McDaniels said nothing, sure that anything he said would make them more cautious than silence would. After another inquiry from the top of the steps, the pair of legs started moving cautiously down the steps, followed directly behind by a second set of legs.
As the first man caught sight of the bodies on the floor, he called out, "Oh S***!" (or whatever terms they used in Afganistan to mean the same thing.) He then hurried down the stairs, the second man coming down right behind him. They must have thought the two men shot each other over their argument. McDaniels waited until both men were just about to the bottom of the stairs and in clear view before pulling the trigger on the lead man, dropping him like a 175 lb sack of rice. He quickly pulled up on the second man and fired, but that guy ducked and while McDaniels continued firing, the second guy managed to return fire, hitting McDaniels in the right leg twice.
"Ah! Damn!" he spat through gritted teeth. His leg was bleeding badly, and he was sure at least one of the bullets had gone through the bone. He immediately crawled to one of the men and yanked off their belt. Risking himself being open to more gunfire, he used the belt as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
He considered his options. He was injured, and practically immobile. He had no idea how many men were above him in the rooms upstairs, but he didn't hear any movements or voices. It only took a few second for him to make up his mind: He was going on.
He reloaded his sidearm, and adjusted his rifle, and began to quietly pull himself up the stairs, keeping an ear open for sounds of trouble. He reached the top of the stairs and carefully stuck his head around the corner and looked down the hallway to make sure nobody was laying in wait for him. Nobody was.
Considering the noise he had made with the shooting, and the fact that nobody else was coming as of yet, and also considering he was losing a lot of blood, he decided to hell with being careful. He didn't have time to pussyfoot. So he lifted himself up on one leg and unslung his rifle, and started moving down the hall, using the rifle as a crutch, and keeping his sidearm in his other hand.
He reached the first door and pushed it open. Inside was a simple bedroom with a small table and a few items. He moved on.
The second room was a kitchen-like area with a small stove and refrigerator and a shelf of ingredients. The table had some food and serving dishes on it. He moved on.
The last room was what he was looking for. Inside were three bound and gagged and nearly unconscious fellow soldiers. At least they would all die together, he thought, as he glanced down at his wounded leg. No. F that! He set his sidearm down on a nearby table and pulled out his knife. As quickly as he could he cut through the gags and hacked away the ropes that bound their hands and feet. He slapped them gently across the face and poured a little water on their heads and face to wake them up. Two of them awakened enough to respond. They were still somewhat discombobulated, but were able to understand what was going on.
McDaniels risked a little more time to sit and rest while he tried his radio. He was surprised to get a response immediately, and to learn that there was a copter in the area already. He gave his coordinates and in about ten minutes the copter will arrive. With the two men moving about a bit, and having a drink of water, they worked to get up to the roof. The two other men each took an arm of the third and carried him to the second flight of steps that opened to the roof. McDaniels used his crutch again and carefully and painfully made his way up as well.
They could hear the sound of the copter above the shouts from buildings around them as the inhabitants clamoured to find out what the shooting was about. He looked around, but nobody he could see was acting suspciously. Still, they kept low until the copter was closer, then they got up and started waving their arms. The copter stopped and hovered above them, and a line was lowered with a basket on the end. Each man got in and was raised up into the copter. The three other men were inside the copter before gunshots began whizzing past McDaniels. Someone was taking pot shots at the copter, but wasn't close enough to get a good aim. Luckily he was not hit, and the copter only took two rounds and little damage before they were able to take off and head back to base.
And so that is how McDaniels became a hero to his platoon, losing a leg in the process. And during the entire flight back to base he wasn't thinking about his injured leg. All he had on his mind was how he couldn't wait to get back home and have a McDonalds Sausage McGriddle!
McDaniels paused momentarily alongside the door. He could hear the guards arguing just on the other side. His training had taught him to understand their words, and it was quite clear that one of the men was not a fan of McDonalds, claiming the hamburgers made him sick, and that the sausage patties they cooked for breakfast made the grill unclean for a Muslim to eat from later. McDaniels knew then that the argument was not going to be over anytime soon, so he crafted a plan.
Holding his sidearm in one hand, he reached out and tested the door handle with the other. It turned easily and noiselessly. As the latch cleared the plate, he took a long breath to calm himself, then pushed open the door and shot both men in the head, killing them both instantly. Sometimes the best plans are the simplest. He scanned the room quickly and saw no more men, just stairs going up, and a doorway into another room.
McDaniels knew also that his gunshots would certainly bring others, but he could see no one coming through the open doorway. He yelled out in Afganese, "Just a slight weapons malfunction!", then cringed when he heard himself say it. Well, it was too late now. He could hear some shouting, and the sound of boots coming toward the stairs. They were not sure what was going on, but they were coming to find out. He moved to a location where he would have the best vantage point and waited.
After a moment a pair of legs appeared at the top of the steps, where they stopped. "What happened down there?" was the inquiry from the top of the steps. McDaniels said nothing, sure that anything he said would make them more cautious than silence would. After another inquiry from the top of the steps, the pair of legs started moving cautiously down the steps, followed directly behind by a second set of legs.
As the first man caught sight of the bodies on the floor, he called out, "Oh S***!" (or whatever terms they used in Afganistan to mean the same thing.) He then hurried down the stairs, the second man coming down right behind him. They must have thought the two men shot each other over their argument. McDaniels waited until both men were just about to the bottom of the stairs and in clear view before pulling the trigger on the lead man, dropping him like a 175 lb sack of rice. He quickly pulled up on the second man and fired, but that guy ducked and while McDaniels continued firing, the second guy managed to return fire, hitting McDaniels in the right leg twice.
"Ah! Damn!" he spat through gritted teeth. His leg was bleeding badly, and he was sure at least one of the bullets had gone through the bone. He immediately crawled to one of the men and yanked off their belt. Risking himself being open to more gunfire, he used the belt as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.
He considered his options. He was injured, and practically immobile. He had no idea how many men were above him in the rooms upstairs, but he didn't hear any movements or voices. It only took a few second for him to make up his mind: He was going on.
He reloaded his sidearm, and adjusted his rifle, and began to quietly pull himself up the stairs, keeping an ear open for sounds of trouble. He reached the top of the stairs and carefully stuck his head around the corner and looked down the hallway to make sure nobody was laying in wait for him. Nobody was.
Considering the noise he had made with the shooting, and the fact that nobody else was coming as of yet, and also considering he was losing a lot of blood, he decided to hell with being careful. He didn't have time to pussyfoot. So he lifted himself up on one leg and unslung his rifle, and started moving down the hall, using the rifle as a crutch, and keeping his sidearm in his other hand.
He reached the first door and pushed it open. Inside was a simple bedroom with a small table and a few items. He moved on.
The second room was a kitchen-like area with a small stove and refrigerator and a shelf of ingredients. The table had some food and serving dishes on it. He moved on.
The last room was what he was looking for. Inside were three bound and gagged and nearly unconscious fellow soldiers. At least they would all die together, he thought, as he glanced down at his wounded leg. No. F that! He set his sidearm down on a nearby table and pulled out his knife. As quickly as he could he cut through the gags and hacked away the ropes that bound their hands and feet. He slapped them gently across the face and poured a little water on their heads and face to wake them up. Two of them awakened enough to respond. They were still somewhat discombobulated, but were able to understand what was going on.
McDaniels risked a little more time to sit and rest while he tried his radio. He was surprised to get a response immediately, and to learn that there was a copter in the area already. He gave his coordinates and in about ten minutes the copter will arrive. With the two men moving about a bit, and having a drink of water, they worked to get up to the roof. The two other men each took an arm of the third and carried him to the second flight of steps that opened to the roof. McDaniels used his crutch again and carefully and painfully made his way up as well.
They could hear the sound of the copter above the shouts from buildings around them as the inhabitants clamoured to find out what the shooting was about. He looked around, but nobody he could see was acting suspciously. Still, they kept low until the copter was closer, then they got up and started waving their arms. The copter stopped and hovered above them, and a line was lowered with a basket on the end. Each man got in and was raised up into the copter. The three other men were inside the copter before gunshots began whizzing past McDaniels. Someone was taking pot shots at the copter, but wasn't close enough to get a good aim. Luckily he was not hit, and the copter only took two rounds and little damage before they were able to take off and head back to base.
And so that is how McDaniels became a hero to his platoon, losing a leg in the process. And during the entire flight back to base he wasn't thinking about his injured leg. All he had on his mind was how he couldn't wait to get back home and have a McDonalds Sausage McGriddle!
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jack13
Well-Known Member
Holy living f*ck.
Thank you for that. I have forwarded to the family.
May God help us all...
