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Rank: Admiral OCD
Groups: {pDs} Member, Moderator, News Editor, Newsie
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Location: Parallel Universe
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Yeah, that song from Pearl Jam and at the request of Brosnan.
So when I was young, I conned my uncle into getting me a pellet gun, the Marksman 1010 Classic.  It had a reservoir in the nose for like 20 BBs, but you could only fire one at a time and you did that by holding the gun in your right hand, tilting it 90 degrees to the left, then taking your thumb and index finger and pulling back on the back-top part, of the gun. It would compress a spring then catch a latch holding the whole back part in that position. Then you would have to use your palm to push it back, further compressing the spring and locking it in place ready to fire. It felt so good to do that.
The BBs came in a small milk carton package. Like a thousand to a carton, all shiny and copper-colored.
If you wanted to fire a pellet, you had to lift a mechanism on the nose upward, load the pellet, then close the nose piece. Here's me as a teenager demonstrating how the mechanism works. You only need about a minute's worth:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhST1VKG9Eg
So I was outside shooting things and I don't know - I guess I hadn't figured out how to masturbate yet so I shot a snail sitting next to the can I had set up on a wall. It made a crunchy sound then the snail started to come out, probably pissed off that its home had a hole in it, and worse, it had a hole somewhere in its body.
I noticed there were lots of snails around and, well, not ever having kissed a girl, I went around cocking the gun, holding the nose right next to a defenseless snail on the wall, saying something aloud like "I carry out this sentence in the name of the King," and then pulled the trigger. With the gun being so close to the snails, it would leave a tiny entrance hole the size of a BB, but the exit wound looked like holes left in JFK's head in Texas.
I summarily executed about a dozen snails I think before I got bored.
I looked up in a tree and saw that there were some of those annoying sparrows that shit all over everything.
So for the next ten minutes I tried to shoot one down. Only I kept missing every time. Oh I tried every gun-holding pose I could think of from the now classic Counter-Strike pose, down to the Charlie's Angel's pose with gun in right hand and left forearm perpendicular to it, parallel to the ground, with left fist clenched under the right.
The sound of the opening theme from "SWAT" was humming from my lips - complete with doing rolls on the ground to get into position.
But alas, I couldn't hit shit.
So with like one BB left and gun cocked, I started to head toward the house and just happened to look back, raised the gun in one hand, toward the branch, not really aiming. It was kind of a walking away, look back, point and shoot without looking, walk away-
Only I heard a fleshy pop, looked back and a small sparrow had its head bent 45 degrees, chirping in pain, falling from the tree, flapping one wing frantically as it spiraled toward the ground and flopped around in a circle.
Holy shit! I didn't mean to hit it, honest!
I quickly dropped my gun, grabbed a towel from the laundry room in the garage, and ran toward the tree and the bushes where it was still flopping around, chirping in pain.
As I neared the spot I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. There, from underneath one of the bushes was racing the back neighbor's huge tailless tomcat.
Oh shit. No, no, no. No!-
Before I could get to the bird the cat grabbed the bird in its mouth, which made the bird chirp louder and faster. The cat looked at me with the flapping wing in its mouth and gave me a "Thanks bud, I have been meaning to catch this bird all day and now I'm going off to have some fun with it under the house."
It ran under the bushes, toward the opening in the crawlspace under the neighbor's house where it liked to hang. I could hear the chirping coming from under the house, muffled, then louder, then muffled, like the cat was letting it go, letting it flop around, then picking it up again in its mouth.
It was absolute horror for me; I can't even imagine the terrorized horror that poor little sparrow felt being partly paralyzed, surrounded by darkness, yet still conscious in this killer cat's wet jaws.
-After a while the chirping became mostly muffled making my stomach sickly. I couldn't do a thing about it.
Then the chirping, like a distant echo in the wind, fell silent.
To this day I have never fired a weapon at a living thing again. I hadn't meant to hit the bird with that afterthought of a parting shot, and felt really bad about the outcome.
I am haunted by the nonstop high-pitched chirping in my head every time I see one of those little brown sparrows. I'm reminded each time of that tomcat's evilly gleeful eyes as he looked back at me.
Chirp!-chirp!-chirp!-chirp!-chirp!-chirp! . . .You should be more like Cantrip.  Twitchy: "I pulled a Cantrip . . ." GivePeaceAChance: "If the Tempest had nipples, I'd pinch that shit." Xylicon: "I'm about to deliver my [Richard] in your face for posting that stupid shit. " WDF?: "He keeps reaming me... night after night... I'm rather sore." GivePeaceAChance: "OMG MY NIPS ARE HARD" llenta: "cantrip, you fail!!!" Filliam H. Muffman: "i'm on top of dick"
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Rank: Pooter Scooter
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 In an hour of Darkness a blind man is the best guide. In an age of Insanity look to the madman to lead the way. 
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Rank: Fuckstick
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Ha! You could never hang on a hunting trip with Mr. Crawdad and our dogs who hunt the cute little birdies. And if they aren't dead, the dogs will pick them up and bring them to Mr. Crawdad.
Or ask him sometime to go frog gigging.
I don't go. The stuff that comes into my house needs to look like it does in the butcher's display at my supermarket.....they can cut them up in the garage, but when I see it, it had better be dead and ready to be cooked.  Belligerent Pimp wrote: The Man Society just suspended my man card for a week for getting rickrolled by Mrs. Mary Midwestern Housewife.
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Rank: Administration
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cantrip delivers another epic story.  Cantrip wrote:When I die, I want to be reincarnated as a woman's jogging bra.
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Rank: Not Cool Enough for a Rank :(
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cantrip, your such a pussy.
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Rank: You're gonna stick that where?
Groups: Registered User
Joined: 5/17/2006
Posts: 363
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Location: San Jose, CA
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Rank: Fecal Impaction For the Win!
Groups: {pDs} Member
Joined: 5/9/2006
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Location: RVA
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Cantrip wrote:
I noticed there were lots of snails around and, well, not ever having kissed a girl, I went around cocking the gun, holding the nose right next to a defenseless snail on the wall, saying something aloud like "I carry out this sentence in the name of the King," and then pulled the trigger.
Hahaha, nicely written. I had one of those too, provided me with countless hours of entertainment until I inevitably dropped it while spinning it around my finger. I never had anything bigger than a pistol, but I remember going to my friend's house, where he had a nice Crosman air rifle. We ventured out into his back yard where I took a shot at a bird. After my pellet whizzed by its head, it sat there with no obvious instinct of self-preservation as my friend disarmed me and took his shot. He hit it and quickly ran up to it and proceeded to whack it with the butt of his rifle. I don't know why, but I found that last part hilarious at the time. Bike wrote:I like to make werewolf movies. 
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Rank: Administration
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Mrs.Crawdad wrote:
Ha! You could never hang on a hunting trip with Mr. Crawdad and our dogs who hunt the cute little birdies. And if they aren't dead, the dogs will pick them up and bring them to Mr. Crawdad.
Or ask him sometime to go frog gigging.
I don't go. The stuff that comes into my house needs to look like it does in the butcher's display at my supermarket.....they can cut them up in the garage, but when I see it, it had better be dead and ready to be cooked.
I think everyones failed to realize that Mrs. Crawdad here just made the creepiest post. What if Mr. Crawdad brought home a dead human after being shot in the face Dick Cheney style. Would the end result become cannibalism? Would it include fava beans and chianti?  ahhhh_crap wrote:no, splinter has ethics and whut has emotions
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Rank: You're gonna stick that where?
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Very nicely written... Just to add my own personal experience... My wife brought home two cats from someone who was getting married and her new-to-be husband was allergic to. These cats are pretty cool. After they got comfortable, the black one decides he wants to be a cat that goes outside. I don't like the idea of letting pets run free outside. I think you are just too damn lazy if you get a pet, then let it outside for good periods of time. But I digress... This cat is a hunter. He has gotten countless birds including a blue jay, a chipmunk (it was probably Theodore...fat bastard was too slow), and just a couple days ago, brings a baby bunny to the door with this proud look on his face like I'm eatin' good tonight. Little fucker left blood stains all over the deck just to remind us of that little bunny gasping for air. My wife took a broom out to beat the cat's ass, but he just left, went under the deck where I'm sure he got his grub on good. I know the feeling Cantrip.
Do not eat the contents of this post.
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Rank: Fecal Impaction For the Win!
Groups: Ogamer, Registered User
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Never killed a damn thing in my life, but I just watched Battle Royale for the first time. I want my children to grow up in Japan, now. silverwasp wrote:Be careful what you wish for... I have 10 younger siblings and I am only 20....
Yes.... Same parents WarMachine wrote:meh...maybe if he hadn't been handed a burning house he could have done great things, but right now he has won the Prize for what? Damage Control?
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Rank: Coathanger Abortion
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this is the scariest thread I've ever read. I try to avoid killing things as much as I can. I love meat but I always feel guilty about it. Razor wrote:Killing people is good therapy.  
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Rank: Administration
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Dick Cheney's Mechanical Heart wrote:I love meat but I always feel guilty about it. lol Cantrip wrote:When I die, I want to be reincarnated as a woman's jogging bra.
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