Packing now...

Danny decided he was tired of me answering the door and inspecting why the dog was barking late at night with a ball bat and let me pick out my own gun. I wanted a Walther .22 and after searching three counties I found one. Pey made fun of me for wanting a .22 instead of something a bit larger. After a little friendly debate he agreed if someone was shooting at him it wouldn't really cross his mind to stop and ask how large of a bullet was coming at him.
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