So a guy in Evansville, Indiana got a little sideways on some intoxicant or another and, along with a friend, was trying to break down a neighbor's door.
Understandably, the neighbor called 911.
When the cops arrived, our doped-up protagonist took a few pot shots at them, then ran back towards his own house, where he promptly cut his foot open climbing through a window and then shot himself in it with his pistol. (As an expert criminologist due to having watched several episodes of COPS during baseball rain delays, I could have told you that he would be barefoot. Possibly shirtless as well.)
Surprisingly, the cops did not let him call "Olly olly oxen free!" just because he'd gained the security of his domicile and tagged home base.
When he emerged on the front porch, they yelled "Drop it!" and he didn't drop it, so they dropped him.
As it turns out, the object he didn't drop was a cordless phone.
You know, once the bullets start flying, people are probably going to be a bit excitable, okay? Once you start shooting at the cops, you can't just say "Hey, I was only funnin' ya. Prank!" and expect everything to go back to status quo ante. If you want to call Time Out, you need to do exactly what the other very keyed-up dude with the gun, the one you were just shooting at, says.
Or you could get shot.
I'm normally a little critical of the whole cult of officer safety, but given that this guy had opened fire on police officers less than an hour before, I've gotta say that I can kinda see where they're coming from on this one.