This knock was followed by "Urbana police, open up".

So it was my first semester of finals in college, but somehow I had managed to escape them. You see my only "final" was a non-cummulative test over the final 3 weeks of class and didn't count for very much of my grade.

Since this was the case, I got very very bored when all my friends were studying and I was too young for the bars. Incidently, I also decided it was a good idea to go out to our neighborhood Wal-Mart and pick up a VERY nice bb gun, at about 2am on a Wednesday morning.

The next couple days I got some good late-night target practice in shooting out my patio door at the building next to me, and scared the shit out of my roomate on a few ocasions.

The weekend before finals my best friend had just finished his semester and came down to party with me. The first night became a blur, but between the two of us two cases of Bud Light longnecks and a handle of 'ole Cappy sat empty on the counter.

The next day I brought out the bb gun, and showed it to my buddy, and how I had taken some target practice. He decided he wanted to try, in broad daylight at multiple targets on the building. One of these targets was one of the residents windows, and he so graciously (we soon found out) decided to call the police.

Keep in mind it took about an hour for the police to arrive, you think a "shotgun shooting" as it was described would warrent a quicker response...but no. We were all getting ready to go return the gun to Wal-Mart when there was a knock on the door, something uncommon because everyone knew I kept the door open. This knock was followed by "Urbana police, open up".

Oh no! The bb gun was sitting in plain sight on the conter, along with $40 worth of empty alcohol. So I open the door, and they pushed their way in a little further, and the questions began aflowing. Somehow my bb gun was implicated in this "shotgun shooting" and 6 windows and a streetlight had ceased to serve their purpose. Also, the police neglected to realize it was only the 50 year old storm windows that had been busted not the entire thing, so the damage was estimated at $2,600.

WHOA, shit. Also, since it was my gun and my apartment, I would be the only one arrested for the Class 4 felony. Who knew that a little sober fun would lead to a Class 4 Felony. Also this would be very bad to have on my record, so I took care of it and got the slate wiped clean, no convictions. But I did spend the night before my first "final" hoping that the black guy next to me did not find my butt cute.

I guess the moral of the story is that "idle hands are the devils play ground."