With the President and other liberals pushing hard for more gun control laws, it seemed useful to present a fable that
liberals seem to rely on to illustrate how gun laws protect us from the bad guys.

ACT I, Scene 1
A very dim, very shabby looking furnished room. At stage left is a tattered couch. At stage right stands an
old-fashioned ice box. Hanging from the ceiling is an electric wire with a bare bulb on the end, all of it
suspended over a table at which are seated Louie and Spike. On the table is a semi-automatic pistol. They are
plotting the robbery of the Last National Bank at the corner of Elm and Maple Streets in Yourtown, USA.
SPIKE: Wonder what's taking Lefty so long, he's been gone
over an hour.

LOUIE: Yeah. All he had to do was case the joint and check on
the layout and where the guard stands. He shudda been back by
(The door, upstage center, opens, Lefty enters. He is big, dangerous looking wearing a cap and needing a

LOUIE: So what kept ya? Did ya check out the bank?

LEFTY: I checked it out all right, and guys, I got bad news.

SPIKE: So whatsamatta?

LEFTY: Like you said, the guard's an old coot who can barely see and the door is just right for a quick get away.

LOUIE: So what's the problem?

LEFTY: I saw where they've put a sign up on the door saying no guns are allowed on the premises. That's gonna
make it awful tough to hold up the place. The guard may be old but he's armed, and some of the tellers are really
big guys. They don't look like they scare easy.

SPIKE: (to LOUIE) So now what do we do?

LOUIE: Hey, don't look at me, this is my first job, I don't know all the angles. But come to think of it, Spike,
didn't you do time for armed robbery a while back.

SPIKE: Yeah, so what.

LEFTY: So what? So you're a felon, dat's what. You're not even allowed to own a gun let alone carry it into a

SPIKE: Sheesh! I forgot all about dat. (Drops gun in wastebasket) Looks like no gun for me.

LEFTY: But, hey, it ain't so bad, Me and Louie still got our heat and Spike, you can drive the getaway car.

LOUIE: Yeah. Dat's right. You can drive the car -- ya still got yer driver's license, ain't ya?

SPIKE: Youse guys are real pals. An' yer right, you still got your guns -- but wait! What about the sign, you can't
take your guns into the bank.

(The trio stop and look at each other helplessly for a few moments, then Louie speaks,)

LOUIE: Looks like the whole caper's off.

LEFTY: Yeah. I guess we'll have to put on suits and go get jobs somewhere.

SPIKE: Yeah. Guess so. Darn those ol' gun laws anyway.