Desert Stormed

If Memory Swerves™, 'twas on this night in history (September 30, 2017) that a twat in a towering glass hotel sent down a hail storm of bullets on an outdoor concert crowd in VEGA$, resulting in the deadliest mass shooting in modern American history. Sad bloody business that. The station house sends its sympathies to the families of the 59 unfortunates who lost their lives, the 500+ who were injured and the countless other country music ticketholders whose half gallon jugs of Fireball® whiskey, 32 oz. cans of Redd’s Appalachian Ale and multi-pack tins of Grizzly® chewing tobacco were smashed in the stampede out the Route 91 Festival grounds. Bloody hell. You’ll forgive me for saying, and with all respect due the local authorities, one wonders how the late, legendary VEGA$ P.I. (Patrolman Incognito) Dan Tanna would have responded to the incident, perhaps even anticipating it. The toothsome, wavy-haired Tanna was once a police-force-of-one to be reckoned with amidst the glitz, glamour and upside down crosses along the strip. As cavalier and criminally good-looking as Dan Tanna may have been, ‘twas his policing prowess that earned him the respect of no less authority than former Mission Impossible man-of-a-thousand black faces Detective Greg Morris. The Vietnam veteran Tanna was no stranger to covert operations and methinks if he had come within a dog craps table of the gutless, shit-stained assassin at any time in the week prior, he would have drop-kicked him in the nutsack and karate-chopped him down to the pile carpeting of the Howie Mandel Bay™ casino. A resident of downtown in a well-appointed warehouse bachelor bad adjacent to the Desert Inn®, nothing escaped Dan Tanna’s watch as he tooled about town in his signature VEGA® notchback with working corded telephone and answering machine inside. The go-to investigator for hair-hatted hotelier (and former Bostonian) Tony Curtis, Tanna's sterling reputation as a criminologist is on record. He was something of a young Barnaby Jones; Matt Houston without the fulsome moustache; Mike Longstreet with working eyeballs. Alas, Daniel Tanna left these mean streets long ago. Who will have the chutzpah to work under the glare of the neon lights of VEGA$ in his wake, we can’t say. The station house remembers those lost on this day and sends its blessings to the city and policing forces in the hope that they have found some closure to this tragedy.