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Hank’s Blog – Schrader’s Guide to Stakeout Etiquette

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Hank here. I’d like to talk a little bit about some of the unspoken rules of my job. Now, you’d think a lot of this stuff would be pretty self-explanatory, but some douchenuggets (I’m not naming names, but it rhymes with Shomez) need a little extra help. So, here you go:

Hank Schrader’s Guide to Stakeout Etiquette

Rule One: It’s embarrassing that I have to say this, but if you gotta drain the lizard, don’t try using a soda bottle with those dinky little necks. Pencil dick that you are, it’s still gonna be a disaster. I, for one, don’t want to witness some piss geyser because your lazy ass can’t be bothered to get out and walk two blocks to Denny’s. Take it outside.

Rule Two: Agree on a radio station prior to arriving at the target location. I don’t care how much you jabber on about the “cultural legacy” of Mariachi, it still makes me want to stab myself repeatedly in the ears. I got no problem with you listening to that crap on your own time, but in the car with me, we gotta have an understanding. I will listen to the greatest hits of Kenny G, featuring Michael Bolton, accompanied by Yanni before I listen to eight hours of Mariachi. I’m pretty sure that’s the music they pipe into hell.

Rule Three: I’m driving. No discussion. No whining.

Rule Four: Don’t take “hilarious” photos of me while I’m sleeping. On those overnight deals, you trade off getting some shut-eye, and when you do that, you enter a sacred trust. Shoving projectiles up my nose and taking pictures violates that trust. I’ve got a Sharpie, and I won’t hesitate to draw a dick on your forehead the second you’re out.

This brings me to the cardinal rule of stakeouts. If you pull this when you’re trapped in a car with a fellow agent, you’re a tremendous jackhole, and will face retaliation.

Rule Five: No farting. This is a no-brainer, but some people can’t seem to get it through their Neanderthal skulls. You can’t get away with ripping one when there are only two people in the car, genius! What, you think you can blame some magical flatulence fairy that hangs out in the back seat? I know it’s you, Gomie. Shove a cork up there if you have to, but next time you cut one, I’ll knock your head off. I don’t care if I break cover.

That’s it! Follow these simple rules, and you’ll avoid a beat down. Schrader out.

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