snert
Silver $$ Contributor
I went on safari. My quarry? Spotted Latern fly. I carried my bright red and yellow A-Salt-gun with a full magazine of freshly loaded Morton fine xxx iodized, weight sorted high BC table salt. I wore my hunter orange shirt and my ballistic denim jeans, with my low tread Doc Martin loafers, for ease in stalking. I had scouted the terrain and noted a heavy concentration of the invasive metallic grey and bright red alien bug-eyed creatures infiltrating two trees near my porch (and recliner where I had been enjoying an adult beverage).
I grabbed a cylindrical canister full of reloads and sallied forth!
My intrepid bride remained on the porch with a smirk.
An hour later my arm hurt from cocking the A-Salt_Gun sliding breach. The ground was littered with the carcasses of (estimated) well over 100 of those B#$S!Ards and it appeared about 400 more remained in the tree, just out of range of my short barreled rifle. I reloaded the high capacity magazine 4 (FOUR!) times!
I am considering a long barreled custom compressor powered air A-salt-gun...
I determined that the pattern of the multi-shot projectile would reliably knock off two and three of the creepy critters in a shot if they remained within four feet of the barrel. Often a cuop de gra was required. Many of the longer shots resulted in sputtering fly-offs, but the cripples seemed to then, like some outer space automatron, start to crawl back toward the tree base (making it easy to retrieve and/or simply Doc Martin them.) A second round to the face became my standard practice. No unneccesary suffering and all...
I found myself cackling like a current drunken VP and having as much fun as Will Dabbs shooting water mocassins with a short barreled shotgun.
Sometimes you just have to let out your inner child.
I grabbed a cylindrical canister full of reloads and sallied forth!
My intrepid bride remained on the porch with a smirk.
An hour later my arm hurt from cocking the A-Salt_Gun sliding breach. The ground was littered with the carcasses of (estimated) well over 100 of those B#$S!Ards and it appeared about 400 more remained in the tree, just out of range of my short barreled rifle. I reloaded the high capacity magazine 4 (FOUR!) times!
I am considering a long barreled custom compressor powered air A-salt-gun...
I determined that the pattern of the multi-shot projectile would reliably knock off two and three of the creepy critters in a shot if they remained within four feet of the barrel. Often a cuop de gra was required. Many of the longer shots resulted in sputtering fly-offs, but the cripples seemed to then, like some outer space automatron, start to crawl back toward the tree base (making it easy to retrieve and/or simply Doc Martin them.) A second round to the face became my standard practice. No unneccesary suffering and all...
I found myself cackling like a current drunken VP and having as much fun as Will Dabbs shooting water mocassins with a short barreled shotgun.
Sometimes you just have to let out your inner child.