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Luckiest Shot You Ever Made
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<blockquote data-quote="entoptics" data-source="post: 3091536" data-attributes="member: 104268"><p>My mom's cousin was the family "gun nut", and got me into shooting before I can remember.</p><p></p><p>Anyway, whenever I'd visit him, I'd root through his basement full of guns, and demand to shoot just about anything and everything. One day, when I was about 10 years old, I was pestering him incessantly about his 458 Win Mag "elephant gun".</p><p></p><p>Me: Let me shoot it</p><p>Him: Too big for you.</p><p>Me: No it's not</p><p>Him: Yes it is.</p><p>Me: No it's not. Let me shoot it.</p><p>Him: I don't have any ammo</p><p>Me: I just found some in this coffee can.</p><p>Him: Fine you little peckerwood, I'm sick of listening to you. You can shoot it, and then you'll understand why I said no.</p><p></p><p>Now normally, this would be akin to child abuse, but I wasn't like other little kids.</p><p></p><p>We go out on his porch, and with a knowing smirk on his face, he hands me a round and says "shoot that turtle on the far bank of the pond" (perhaps 80-100 yards away).</p><p></p><p>I lined up on that sucker and let her rip. Nothing left of the turtle but a smoking crater in the mud.</p><p></p><p>I turn to him and he's got a stunned look on his face. I'm not sure which was more shocking to him. That I hit the turtle offhand, or that I was grinning ear to ear and reaching for another round of 458...</p><p></p><p>His plan to "teach me a lesson" completely backfired. For the rest of my life, I've pestered him to shoot whatever the biggest, baddest, most expensive thing he's got...</p><p></p><p>I still feel a little bad about the turtle murder though...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="entoptics, post: 3091536, member: 104268"] My mom's cousin was the family "gun nut", and got me into shooting before I can remember. Anyway, whenever I'd visit him, I'd root through his basement full of guns, and demand to shoot just about anything and everything. One day, when I was about 10 years old, I was pestering him incessantly about his 458 Win Mag "elephant gun". Me: Let me shoot it Him: Too big for you. Me: No it's not Him: Yes it is. Me: No it's not. Let me shoot it. Him: I don't have any ammo Me: I just found some in this coffee can. Him: Fine you little peckerwood, I'm sick of listening to you. You can shoot it, and then you'll understand why I said no. Now normally, this would be akin to child abuse, but I wasn't like other little kids. We go out on his porch, and with a knowing smirk on his face, he hands me a round and says "shoot that turtle on the far bank of the pond" (perhaps 80-100 yards away). I lined up on that sucker and let her rip. Nothing left of the turtle but a smoking crater in the mud. I turn to him and he's got a stunned look on his face. I'm not sure which was more shocking to him. That I hit the turtle offhand, or that I was grinning ear to ear and reaching for another round of 458... His plan to "teach me a lesson" completely backfired. For the rest of my life, I've pestered him to shoot whatever the biggest, baddest, most expensive thing he's got... I still feel a little bad about the turtle murder though... [/QUOTE]
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