So, there are now eight people with firearms sitting in my living room.
The first one is obvious.
He's the GOOD guy with a gun that -- according to the NRA -- I need to have around to keep me safe from the crazed BAD guy with the gun.*
(*And when I say gun I, of course, mean the high powered, big clip, firearm that the BAD got... at a gun show... without a background check... because that's what the framers of the Constitution CLEARLY demanded.)
So, anyway I put the GOOD guy with the gun in place and I felt safe.
But then I thought to myself... "Hey, Self, you do remember that the tragedy in Connecticut started when someone who had a gun to protect her (she'd be Wayne LApierre's GOOD girl) from the BAD person then had her own weapon stolen by the BAD person, who turned out to be her owns son."
Shorter, the BAD guy was already in the house.
And then once I'd thought THAT... I didn't feel safe again.
Which is where the SECOND dude with a killing weapon came into play.
See, the second GOOD guy is here to keep me safe from the first GOOD guy in case the first GOOD guy is actually the BAD guy I'm trying to keep safe from.
So, that way, if the GOOD guy who is really a BAD guy turns on me, I'll have the GOOD GOOD guy to blow him away.
But then again... what if the Second GOOD guy is the BAD guy and knowing the first GOOD guy is looking for him... the Second BAD GOOD guy takes the first opportunity to kill the first GOOD GOOD guy and all I'm left with is a live BAD GOOD guy and a dead GOOD GOOD guy?
Suddenly... I wasn't safe AGAIN.
Which is why I hired the third GOOD guy... as an insurance policy against potential GOOD/BAD guys numero uno and numero dos.
The fourth and fifth GOOD guys were about pure statistics.
See, your GOOD guys always have to outnumber your BAD guys and in any scenario where... say... guys 1 and 2 are BAD or 1 and 3 are BAD or even 2 or 3 are BAD then, well the odd GOOD guy doesn't stand a chance.
So, GOOD guy four was hired to make sure things were at least even and GOOD guy five was my insurance policy.
(Unless of course these last two GOOD guys -- GOOD guys 5 and 6 -- were the BAD guys... and then I've just fucked myself.)
GOOD guys six and seven are there in case any of the first six guys have to.. y'know... use the loo or are in some OTHER part of the house... like the kitchen... when the BAD guy comes in the through the dining room window.
Because GOOD guys, even when they're there, can't be everywhere at once. Columbine High school had a GOOD guy with a gun. Virginia Tech had a whole police force full of GOOD guys. But these were wrong place at the wrong time GOOD guys and so... no help at all.
Because of the above, I then considered foregoing these two guys and instead just shutting down all other parts of the house therein confining the first five GOOD/BAD guys, myself, my wife, the dog, the two cats and the rat in 150 square feet, but... what kind of America is it if you can't even feel safe in your own house.
Therefore, what the fuck, I figured, and I went and hired lucky six GOOD guy and super lucky seven GOOD guy.
Which brings me now to GOOD guy eight, who, ironically, is the only one in the house who does not have a firearm.
No, good guy eight... is packing a nuclear suitcase.
Because what if I've REALLY done the wrong thing and essentially invited an ARMED BRIGADE of NRA terrorists in my house?
I mean... what if they're ALL bad?
Then I'm REALLY not safe and only real way to keep myself safe... is the mushroom cloud*.
(*Bonus irony... I'm deathly allergic to BOTH mushrooms and clouds... so one way or another... I'm gunna die.)