Ramblin' Willie's homey actually got clapped

A guest post from the man you might know as the Cougar Hunter, whose homey actually did get clapped in uptown Charlotte. Yup-Town takes no responsibility for his views and language.
Another Halloween, another excuse for me to dress up like a professional wrestler.

Last Halloween I wasn't feeling very creative, so I recycled the previous year’s costume: Stone Cold Steve Austin. I was thrilled to yet again have an excuse to wear black spandex in public with a vest to match. The vest greatly highlighted my manly physique and killer traps. I topped off the costume with an official Stone Cold Steve Austin Heavyweight Championship belt like the one he wore when he was Heavyweight champ: a Smoking Skull and Crossbones. Of course, mine was made from $10 material, but that is beside the point.

My neighbor showed up in a Kenny Chesney outfit, complete with a guitar and jeans; no spandex. All the girls at the party were a "slutty" something or other: a slutty teacher, slutty librarian, slutty nurse, or slutty slut, you get the picture. We were all set to have a great time, so we headed uptown. The air was brisk, but I had thought ahead and worn a cup to offset the shrinking tendencies caused by a cool October night. The girls looked cold, but they too were smart; they decided to travel in a "slutty group" to keep warm.

After a few hours yelling the phrase, "And that's the bottom line, cuz Stone Cold Said so" mixed in with chants of "Austin 3:16 says I just wupped your ass," I noticed that Kenny Chesney had wandered off. At this point in the night, I had become pretty intoxicated, and the "sluts" were now "sluttily boring." I decided to head back to First Ward.

On my way back to the Ward, as we call it, some guy uttered, "I look gay, but not as gay as that guy." That didn't bode well with the former WWE Heavyweight Champion, so I had a couple choice words for him. After threatening the poor guy with a stunner, I returned on my track to the Ward.

I passed out and received a phone call at 8:30am. Still wearing a vest and spandex, I wasn't very thrilled to have been woken up at such an hour. The girl on the line said, “Willie, Kenny has been shot.” She told me he got shot last night when he walked home. I quickly sobered up, removed my Stone Cold outfit, and headed for the hospital.

Once I arrived, I said, "Dude, what happened?"

My buddy replied, "Dude, I got f***in' shot."

I responded, "Yes, I see that. But what happened?"

"Dude, I got f***in' shot."

"Details please."

My buddy walked home the night prior and was standing on his balcony of his third-floor apartment with his female roommate when three guys began yelling obscenities at her from the parking lot. He told them to come up and say it to him. They told him to come down there instead. So my buddy, still dressed as Kenny Chesney, walked down the stairs.

One of the guys was waiting by the side of the staircase. He shot my buddy shot him three times in the leg with a magnum, then ran away. My buddy had enough adrenaline to run up the stairs bleeding all over the place and lock his door. The ambulance came, and took him to the hospital, where he recovered rapidly. He was lucky that the bullets only hit meat and was able to run 6 weeks after the incident.

Clearly, nobody was arrested in the shooting, and our apartment did little to increase security. Luckily, my friend and I had gotten separated earlier that night, because I don't believe the stunner is effective against magnums.