Chaingun
Who do ya love?
- Joined
- Mar 23, 2008
- Posts
- 8,203
Wandering down a long unused corridor, I'm laboring under the weight of two old, orange five gallon buckets, one hanging in each of my hands. They are full, very full, every once in a while, something falls out of one and tinkles across the concrete floor.
Eventually, I arrive at the door outside of Animal's new armory. If he wants to do the loading, I'll let him. Besides, I wasn't much impressed with the existing armory, since it was only a large room where we stored all the scavenged ammo and reloading supplies.
I scribble on a piece of paper--Geez, it's been a long time since I've had to write anything. How do you spell...nah, never mind.
I walk away whistling.
The note says, "5.45x39 and 5.7x28, please."
Both buckets are full of empty brass from the underground rifle range that served as the basis for the bunker when I started building it. But, since the whole world is a free fire zone now, it just doesn't seem necessary to practice anymore.
Time to rustle up some grub. Wonder if there's any meat in the fridge?
Eventually, I arrive at the door outside of Animal's new armory. If he wants to do the loading, I'll let him. Besides, I wasn't much impressed with the existing armory, since it was only a large room where we stored all the scavenged ammo and reloading supplies.
I scribble on a piece of paper--Geez, it's been a long time since I've had to write anything. How do you spell...nah, never mind.
I walk away whistling.
The note says, "5.45x39 and 5.7x28, please."
Both buckets are full of empty brass from the underground rifle range that served as the basis for the bunker when I started building it. But, since the whole world is a free fire zone now, it just doesn't seem necessary to practice anymore.
Time to rustle up some grub. Wonder if there's any meat in the fridge?