The inventor of the taser died this week. While reading his obituary I was surprised to find that the name of the device wasn't actually a play on the word 'laser.' Excited that he had found a way to zap people from a distance, he named his company after one of his favorite children's books growing up: Tom Swift's Electric Rifle. When they got
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“Boy, you ain't no Tom Swift and I'm gonna take a lot more'n twelve dollars out of your hide if you fire that at your brother!”
“But Dad! How's a fella ever gonna become a famous inventor if you don't let me try stuff out?!”
(Did I hear mention of double extra points???)
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you notice that no one ever talks about the really crappy boy inventors?
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The opening totally grabbed me. The only thing I'd change about this story if "father walking out" to "father walking in."
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I walk down to the deli, legs positively zip-zipping. The guy who always comes at this time of day is there. He cuts me in line, as usual.
I reach forward, as if stumbling, and the wire in my palm touches skin. ZAP!
“I’m sorry. There’s so much static in here!” I babble. “Check your hair, it’s all standing up in the back”. Vanity wins and he dashes to the window to check.
Static-powered taser? That’s all me, baby.
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"Shut up!" The mugger waved his taser nervously. "Watch and wallet, now!"
"That's an unreliable brand - you'll probably blow a fuse," Tom said shortly.
"I said shut up!" The man lunged, thrusting the weapon at Tom's belly, but Tom was expecting the move - he whipped the nearby garbage can into the path of the attack, and the taser failed in a shower of sparks as the metal diverted the charge harmlessly into the earth.
"That was a mistake," Tom ground out. "They're going to arrest you, now - Assault, with Battery."
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