Shooting Lesson

We headed to the outdoor shooting range 20 miles north of us. I noticed Bob was playing around with his prosthetic leg, a bonus from time spent in Afghanistan.

“What wrong with it?” I asked.

“I’m using my old one today and it’s uncomfortable,” he answered.

“Wanna go back and switch out?”

“Naw, it’ll be fine.”

With that, I let the subject drop because at times, Bob could be moody about his ‘fake leg.’ Within minutes we pulled into the gravel lot, got out and grabbed our shooting gear.

Our group included two Marines, two Army and one Air Force veteran. Making up the six-pack is a civilian named Harold, brother-in-law to one the Army vets and a real know-it-all.

Today, Bob, the other Army vet, and Harold were going to play cowboy and practice quick-draw methods. Harold assured everyone that he was a master of the art-form and was certain to come out on top regardless of Bob’s military background.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to square-off. Five out of six rounds, Harold out drew Bob in their private competition.

“See, told ya,” Harold bragged.

“Wanna go again?” Bob offered.

“And lose again?” Harold countered.

“What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment,” Bob smiled.

Something was up as Bob turned to look at me and gave a quick wink. For the life of me, I had no idea what he was up too.

Suddenly, the red light flicked to red. Both men fired and Bob screamed as a stream of blood pumped from his right foot.

Harold looked at the blood as it gushed in a geyserly fashion over and over. The sight overwhelmed him as he squealed in a high pitch, ran in place for a few steps and them collapsed on the ground, having fainted.

For his part Bob walked over to the fallen man and shook him awake. Once Harold had a handle on himself, Bob told him it was practical joke, that he had shot himself in his fake leg on purpose.

Harold was so pissed, he refused Bob’s apology, loading up his equipment and leaving the range. The Range-master was none to pleased either as he banned Bob from the facility for the remainder of the year.

“So, was it worth it?” I asked Bob on our drive home.

“Oh, hell yeah,” he chuckled.