Gurney's Inn
March 07, 2007

Low Tidings

Low Tidings

Two weeks ago, federal immigration agents staged a series of raids in East Hampton.

The agents were searching for some pretty scary criminals — in fact, they had deportation orders in hand. Their job was to grab these criminals before they could commit more violent crimes — in East Hampton. In all, 38 illegal immigrants were arrested, and 10 face deportation. No one was injured.

A group of local religious leaders nevertheless lambasted the raids, claiming "human rights" were violated and that people in the houses raided were "treated like animals." One went so far as to condemn the raids because they "targeted only Latinos." Oh. These were I.C.E. agents. Immigration and Custom Enforcement agents. Could it be, just maybe, they couldn't find any other illegal immigrants in the Hamptons.

Nevertheless, stung by the criticism, Homeland Security officials ordered changes to the way its agents conduct themselves. A few nights ago the agents returned to the Hamptons for another sweep.

The Politically Correct I.C.E. Enforcement Raid

About two dozen agents silently converge on a small, isolated cottage. Some go in the back. It is 3 a.m. on a moonless night. Suddenly, the silence of a still night is shattered by loud knocking on the front door. Flashlights beam from every direction. Lights go on in the cottage.

"Open up in there! Open up! Open the door or we'll knock it down!" An agent shouts.

"Hola?" A Latino woman opens the door.

"We are looking for illegal immigrants," the agent says.

"Immigrante illegale?" the woman asks innocently.

Just then a hallway door flies open. About 10 men with their hands over their heads come out, followed by I.C.E. agents with guns drawn.

"Lookie here, sir. These guys are all wearing the colors of the Latin Kings, the most violent street gang on the east coast. We got ourselves a score!"

"But are they Norwegians?" the leaders of the agents asks.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I said, are they Norwegians? What part of that don't you understand?"

He turns to the lady. "Any Norwegians here? Dutch? Swedes?

"Sueco?" she asks, confused.

"Yeah, Swedes. They must be in here somewhere. Search the basement and closets."

"But sir, we have captured a dozen drug- dealing murderers."

"Son, don't underestimate those Swedes. Come on lady, there are Norwegians hiding in here. Give 'em up or this will get ugly!"

Just then a door swings open. A Latino man swaggers out, carrying a chainsaw.

"Who are you?" An agent asks.

"Scarface!" the man exclaims as he starts the chainsaw. "Saw hello to my lil fren!"

The agents aim their guns but their leader stops them.

"Hey you, Scarface! Seen any Norwegians or Swedes?"


"How about people from Monaco?"

"No! I don't know no stinkin' Monaco!"

"Damn, they slipped through our fingers again!" The agent laments.

"Sir, this man has a chainsaw!"

"He's probably just going to trim the hedges. These people are good at that stuff. Isn't that right, Pedro?"

"It's Scarface!"

"Whatever. Our work is done here, men. M'am, I'm sorry for the intrusion."

"Loco, demente," the woman shakes her head, pointing at the agents.

"The Norwegians? Yeah, they are a crazy bunch but don't worry, we will hunt them down like dogs."

The agents jump into their cars and head back to Newark. In Southampton, they stop at the 7-Eleven for coffee and corn dogs. There are about 100 day laborers mulling around outside. The head agent gets out of his car, followed by the other agents.

"Hey, you guys — we're looking for illegal immigrants. See any?" The day laborers shuffle about, turning slowly, walking away in different directions.

"Hey, no need to worry, gents, unless you have something to hide. Now, I want everyone from Monaco to stand over here. I mean now!"

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