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He picked out a long, skinny kinda gun and gave it to me as we were going RABBIT HUNTING. Yike-oh. We roared off in his Buick and stopped in a forlorn field.
He managed to show me how to hold the gun, look down the barrel to the sight and... and... then when a rabbit appeared, pull the trigger... kaboom!
The King stalked down to his place in the field, a rabbit appeared, and I pulled the trigger. Oh, oh! There was a minor problem with my aim! I almost shot HIM! Once more, the gun was jerked from me and in the car I went... not gently! At least the gun did not knock me over. ( I found out later that it was a 22.)
To the best of my recollection, The King continued to hunt the rabbits, put them in a bag and delivered them to a hospital in Colorado Springs. The cook was going to make rabbit stew called 'hassen- something'.
"PISTOL Packin' Imp" never did come to fruition! Phew!!!!!!!
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