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Gads man, next thing you know you'll have D'Arcy Echols discussing iron sights for a DGR with you. I've not often had the circumstance to use the self disposing target technique. Well, except for the grill, does that qualify? Dan Pres., TYHC www.AndBig.Al | ||
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Speaking of charges, I just faced one down with a pitchfork. 2nd night in a row my garbage can was invaded and this evening I stepped out with a Rem. pump .22, Leupy M8-4X/Butler Creek pop-top caps, loaded with CCI CB shorts. I was wearing urban cammo(white swim trunks/white tee), Sperry Topsiders, hair parted on the left side. EverReady 6 volt lantern yellow w/ black trim. The time was 9:13 and the moon was high, nearly overhead. As I stepped out of the front door I checked all the usual places expecting to find Rocky lurking. A screech owl...screeched. Sweeping the front yard with the light revealed an unexpected surprise in the form of a possum! I had to move so the bag pipe player next door wouldn't be a back stop, finally got into position and he started to RUN! AH HA! A snap shot! Just like the battle of Dang Darn Valley, the gun came up with the crosshairs on fur. Only a brief second before my finger said "okay" and pop went the Remmy. WOP! went the possum! Over on his right side in a skidding halt, left rear leg up in the air like a hound takin' a leak, not even twitchin'! Damn I'm good! Okay, I put the gun down carefully by the tool rack, grabbed the Thompson 5 tine fork with the 5.5' handle(green trim), and went to scoop him up for Albert. Well now, I was rightly surprised to hear a thin distant cry form the black ant pile nearby, "It's supper time! It's supper time!". Even more so when the Yellow EverReady(6v) with the black trim revealed Mr. Possum up on his feet! It raises the question, If a possum gets scared and plays possum, what's it called when he takes one through the heart and doesn't? Anyway, between the dazzle of the light, and fear of being consumed alive at "supper time", he charged. Almost like William Wallace's kilt wearing madmen I set my feet and waited for my fate. I don't know if you've seen a heart shot possum trying to take a leak and charge at the same time, and I don't know which was funnier, that or me juggling the EverReady(yellow) and a pitchfork(green trim). Well, the moment came, I lunged with my many bayonets and nailed his sorry trashcan dumping, litter spreading ass to the ground. Only I saw the silent scream. Ker-splash! Big Al will thank me when the scent spreads a little. Epiologe: I'm still puzzled why the shot(perfect) didn't anchor him. Or her. In and out, thru and thru, the angry moan of the ricochet after exit testimony that CB's aren't toys. Perhaps there aren't enough neurons for the concept of dead to sink in real fast? BTW, don't ever try to use a dead possum for a life jacket, they sink pretty quick. Dan Pres., TYHC www.FromTheJungle.ToCyberspace | |||
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