My grandma moved from her apartment to a house. a really old creepy house.......but, it was home. She got me a bb gun at the flea market (every Sunday, it happened 100 feet away from the house). I was super happy. I was sort of a trouble maker back then, and I went to the backyard and got tired of shooting soda cans. Well, there were a gang of birds......literally, a gang of birds. They had red bandannas on and were throwing up gang signs. jk, But , I started shooting at them. I couldn't hit shit. I got mad and threw the gun down. I got a rock and lobbed it at the birds, not really aiming. I killed one. I couldn't believe it. I felt super bad. I then went to the flea market, pretended to cry and told them it didn't work. got the money back. I then went to the liquor store and spent all my money on a bag of Frito's chips, airheads taffy and blow-pop rings..........then the rest went to the Simpsons arcade game.
Life lesson: killing things in the Simpsons game is wayyyyy more fun than killing things in real life