Originally Posted by
excon
Hello again, dad:
My story:
My dad managed Dave Cooks Sporting Goods in Denver, and brought home two brand new 22's every weekend during the summer... I was 12. We'd go jack rabbit hunting in the eastern plains... One day, when my dad I were taking a breather, a little bunny ran up to us and stopped. My dad pulled his .45 and blew the tip of his nose away. The bunny just stood there bleeding, so he shot him again...
I grew up being a hunter, and hunted for years.. I loved it, and then I didn't. That damn bunny kept cropping up in my memory, and hasn't gone away since.
Yeah... An excon and his bunny. Whoda thunk it? Now, let some sonofab!tch break into my house, and I'd have no trouble blowing him away. Do I need a doctor?
excon