You might not have heard of American country singer Randy Howard… if you’re a communist.
Every true American knows Randy Howard is the embodiment of American freedom– the freedom to live hard and rock harder.
The country star, who rose to fame with his most patriotic tune “All-American redneck,” didn’t play by Obama’s liberal rules. No, he followed a higher calling. An American calling. A calling to, in his own Wild Turkey and Bud Light fueled lyrics, have “a beer gut belly, and he walks tall and proud / And if you try to get smart with him, he’ll punch you out!”
But it’s not enough to talk the talk. You gotta walk the walk, Randy Howard did that!
Howard lived on the wrong side of the law for years despite his commercial success. He performed with big names like Willie Nelson and even had bumper stickers branded with his hit song’s title, but he also fell into a trap of lawlessness that ultimately led to his untimely demise.
He soon became wanted in his home state of Tennessee for possession of drug paraphernalia, 4 DUIs, driving with a revoked license, and possession of a firearm while intoxicated–In other words, his only crime was living out total freedom in the time of Obama. It all sounds very similar to my own Friday night backyard ritual, which I call ULTIMATE FREEDOM.
These charges were piled on top of three hit and run charges in the state of Georgia.
To put it simply Randy Howard was a badass– too much of a badass to be allowed to live in today’s PC nanny-state culture.
Obama wouldn’t allow such uninhibited freedom, so Howard was summoned to court to answer for his PATRIOTIC actions. But he refused to go. According to a friend…
“One morning I went over there to take him to court and he wasn’t ready,” neighbor Terry Dotson told local TV station WSMV. “He said, ‘Well, I’ll call them in a couple hours.’ And that’s when I got mad at him. I said, ‘Look, we’re supposed to be there at 9 o’clock.”
“He said he wasn’t going back to jail. That’s what he told me,” Dotson said.
And so, having flipped the figurative middle finger to the oppressive Obama police state, Howard joined a proud tradition of freedom fighters having bounty hunters sent after them, one that includes Han Solo and all the guys on Dog the Bounty Hunter.
Randy Howard’s Boba Fett wasn’t a Mandalorian Warrior, though, he was an obese, mustache-wielding, Waffle House frequenter (presumably) with a chip on his shoulder named Jackie Shell. Shell came looking for Howard at his home in Tennessee on the night of June 9, carrying a warrant for his arrest, a peacemaker, and a bad attitude (and a beer gut).
But Howard apparently knew Shell was coming for him. He came out shooting with his own brand of hot lead justice, wounding Shell in the ensuing firefight.
According to facts I’ve imagined, the two exchanged a spirited volley of gunfire in which a liquid-courage-fueled Howard bested Shell, dealing him a life threatening wound to the abdomen.
Some tough talk ensued as Shell’s henchmen surrounded a sweaty, outgunned Howard.
“Come on out ya’ sonofabitch,” shouted Shell, spitting a softball sized wad of tobacco juice as he clutched his wounded gut. “You’re surrounded.”
“I’ll see you in hell, Shell,” responded a defiant Howard, who simultaneously realized he was down to his final round of ammunition. He took a big gulp from the bottle of Wild Turkey at his side and gritted his teeth.
“Don’t make me kill you. We can work this out,” said Shell, as he tore open a fresh can of Skoal. He was buying time as he signaled his henchmen to move on Howard.
“I ain’t going back.”
“We can work something out.”
One of Shell’s henchmen got a clean shot at Howard. He took aim.
“We both know that’s not gonna happen,” said Howard as he flipped a hidden switch on the wall of his home. It activated an elaborate series of explosive booby traps as Howard slipped into a trap door under the floorboards.
The house exploded in a ball of fire as Howard escaped the smoking wreckage. He jumped in his rusty pickup truck, started the engine and put it in gear only to find Shell standing directly in front of him, carrying a sawed-off shotgun.
The two exchanged angry stares as Howard floored it. Shell shot Howard in the heart as his pickup veered off a nearby corkscrew jump, Dukes of Hazard style, flew through the sky, and burst into flames upon landing.
“Stick that in your pipe and smoke it,” Shell said as he lit a cigar, not even bothering to watch Howard’s truck explode as he walked away.
It was a sad victory for Obama’s liberal police state, and a tough pill to swallow for freedom lovers, especially Howard.
So here’s one final playing of All-American Redneck; a tribute to you, Randy Howard, All-American Badass.
May your next DUI be at Saint Peter’s pearly gates…
Follow Truthmissiles on Twitter @Truth_missiles.