08-28-2011, 10:04 PM
While the LVMPD held the Black Angus at bay, Carrot Top and Felix Rappaport made a quick dash to the carport to try to rescue Criss. "He's in the Hummer," CT said, running up to the demolished vehicle.
Felix could not believe the damage the bull had inflicted onto the giant truck: the entire driver's side was caved in; long gashes made by the bull's horns streaked across the mural surface; the windshield was a sheet of splintered glass. "God, I hope Criss is okay," he muttered anxiously as he ran toward the wreck.
CT tried to pull open the driver's side door, but it refused to budge. In desperation, he circled to the passenger side, still pristine in spite of the attack, yanked open the door and clambered inside. "Criss!" he shouted. "Criss! You okay?"
There was no sign of life inside the Hummer. The interior with its arsenal of speakers lining the walls had withstood the bull's attack, thanks to the heavy steel body surrounding it. CT looked around for any sign of his friend, but it was empty. Worried, he withdrew and closed the door of the Hummer. "He's not in there!" he called out to Felix.
"Criss?" Felix shouted. "Criss, where are you?"
"Criiiiiiiiiissss!" CT yelled at the top of his lungs.
"I'm right here, CT," came a calm reply.
Felix and CT turned to see Criss standing serenely before them, gently stroking his cat in his arms. Both men were relieved to see him unharmed, though CT could not help but feel a bit angry over his friend's demeanor. "I thought you got killed!" he said.
"We made it out all right, didn't we, Hammie?" Criss said, nuzzling the cat's furry neck. "Soon as the bull left, we slipped out the other side."
Felix shook his head. "Boy, Criss, of all the close calls you've had over the years--"
Criss shrugged. "Hey, this ain't the first time I escaped from a charging bull."
Surrounded by armed officers and squad cars, the Black Angus paced nervously up and down the walkway, growing more enraged by the minute. Beside it, the wreckage of Squad Car 208 lay like dead carrion, its two officers having fled for safety long since. The feeling of entrapment only fueled its paranoia, just as it did when it was confined in the shipping trailer. The figures in front of it were a threat, and all of its bellowing and pacing did nothing to send them away.
From the animal's frantic behavior, the CO knew they were in for another attack. He pulled out his radio mike. "Send Animal Control here ASAP!" he barked. "If this thing charges us, so help me, God, we're gonna shoot!"
The bull turned around and crashed headlong into the plate glass window of the hotel, shattering it with one blow. He charged into the atrium, sending guests and staff running for their lives. The huge snorting bull stamped and kicked furiously, toppling potted plants and anything else in its way. The desk clerk in the hotel lobby took cover under the checkout desk. Upstairs on the casino level, the pit boss rose heroically to the situation and instructed all gamers not to go downstairs but to remain inside the casino while alerting security staff to prevent anyone on the second level from using the down escalator.
The CO turned to his men. "Let's move!" he shouted.
The officers charged into the hotel like an invading army, ready to bring down the bull with all the firepower they possessed. The bull turned around, then suddenly reared up on its hind legs and charged straight at them. Before they could fire a single shot, one officer, then another, were caught between the bull's horns and flung aside like sacks of laundry. Shots exploded from police-issue handguns, but the huge Black Angus fled from the atrium, galloping away from the hotel and toward the Strip. The screech of tires and screams from pedestrians followed in its wake.
The CO got on his radio again. "Officers down!" he barked. "Officers down! Send EMS to the Luxor Hotel. And send backup--the bull is on the loose down Las Vegas Boulevard! Repeat! The bull is on the loose down Las Vegas Boulevard!"
He switched off his radio mike and glared at the carnage wreaked by the bull. The two injured officers lay where they fell, tended to by their comrades. Pieces of window glass lay glittering in the afternoon sunshine. Outside, he could see what was left of Car 208, beyond anything but the scrap yard.
"All right, you (bleeper)!" the CO growled. "You just earned yourself a trip to the slaughterhouse!"