>>
|
No. 112798
ID: bbee29
>Today is a good day for pasta.
They tried the "hurr durr bring in an owner's manual" crap with me last time I bought .357 ammo. I don't have an owner's manual for my 1894, but I had the fucking rifle in my trunk.
I went back to the car, loaded my remaining rounds, and stormed the walmart sporting goods counter. I leveled the barrel at the old man's head, while blading at a 45 degree angle and screaming for him to hand over the ammo. He stuttered, and fumbled in his pockets for the key to the case... but I had no time for his disrespect, so I let three rounds loose into center mass. He dropped the keys, and I picked up all the ammo I could fit in a cart.
I made a hasty escape by using the ammo cart as a skateboard, spray firing from the hip as I sailed past the electronics. Some kids were playing Halo and I dropped them on the spot. BOOM click-clack BOOM! A rent-a-cop dove towards the children, gallantly trying to take the bullets for them, but he fell short and slid into a display of Fritos. I loaded more rounds into my cop-killing evil-blued lever-automatic death machine, then fired upon some newborn children as their parents were walking into the store.
I then proceeded to the cashier, and forced her to ring up my goods at gunpoint. She asked, "Is this for a pistol, or a rifle?"
I shrieked "BOOOOOOOOOOOOTH!" and squeezed the trigger.
I then left my money on the counter. I grabbed my bags and dashed towards the exit. The woman at the door asked for my receipt, which caused me to shake uncontrollably and foam at the mouth. I moved my trusty lever action's switch to full auto, and let loose a barrage of poison hollow point .50 caliber bullets, riddling her body and spraying the door with a sweet ruby mist. She crawled after me, struggling to breathe.
"Hnnngggghhhh... can... I... please... see your... receipt, sir...?"
I stopped and turned.
"Old woman, these goods are now legally my property, and I will not tolerate any further harassment. Tell your friends I mean business."
I shot out her knee caps then cut her left hand off with my Swiss Army knife. After loading my goods into my car, I sped off into the sunset.
|