Give Your Awl for the Right to Concealed Carry, or, First They Came for the Pointy Woodworking Tools

Haven't we all been here? You're sprawled out naked on a tree stump in a public place at quarter to eight in the morning, peacably choking your chicken, when along come the jackbooted thugs who force you to give up the sharp instrument you've got discreetly cached up your Hershey Highway. And they call this the land of the free…

And what of Fusilli Jerry?