Harry and firearms

As you've read here, we at the shop are a little off kilter. And like anything else, it starts at the top. Harry's had a thing with firearms for as long as I can remember. Boy can throw a knife too. He'll stick any knife in anything at 30 feet, fucking amazing.

Anyway, the point was firearms.

One night, many moons ago, when we were all younger and crazier, Harry got himself a .357. Now, Indian used to have a little side business at the shop at nights, paitning. He'd generally do murals on vans, motorcycle tanks, shit like that. He kept all his supplies in the shop, in an explosion-proof UL and OSHA approved cabinet. Double wall, metal, lock, a good sturdy unit. Remember, safety is no accident.

Well, we were hanging around this night and Harry brings the .357 in. Nice revolver, the barrel looked more like a fucking artillery piece. Anyway, Harry hadn't even fired the thing yet and the range in town was closed at that time of night.

Well, we put our heads together and thought it was a good idea (Indian and I didn't need much coaxing) for Harry to fire it at the explosion-proof cabinet. Hey, it's explosion-proof, right? I mean, the slug would penetrate the outer wall, probably, and deform enough not to go through the inner wall of the cabinet. Makes sense, right? I mean shit, we watched a bunch of cop shows.

So, we crowd to the far corner of the shop, about 40 feet from the cabinet. Harry takes aim and pulls the trigger. Well, the double wall theory didn't hold up in the real-world test. Slug went through the outer wall, laughed at us as it went through the inner wall, and laughed even harder when it hit the gallon can of laquer thinner just inside the cabinet.

When the thinner blew, the locked doors of the cabinet contained the explosion, well the first one. When the quart cans of urethane paint, 6 of 'em followed like automatic weapons fire, went, the cabinet gave up the ghost. The doors blew apart and we hit the deck, pieces of the lock going through the wall above our heads, followed by unexploded cans of paint. Woof. Ain't doing that again.

Another time, Harry got a new spear gun. Harry scuba dives, been on all the big wrecks. He brings it in and it's really cool. I ask him if he ever shot it at anything. He says no, it's brand new. As we're talking about it, Indian goes to the bathroom. While he's sitting in there, reading porn, Harry thinks the spear would stick into the bathroom door. Also a good way to fuck with the Indian. Hey, I'm game.

So, while I'm standing there giggling my ass off, Harry takes aim at the door. Well, that theory didn't work out too well either. Spear went RIGHT through the door. Two seconds later, Indian opens the door, still sitting there with his pants around his ankles, the spear stuck in the wall, inches from his leg. Never seen an Injun turn so white. We don't play with firearms in the shop no more.

Well, it's a good thing we can fix the shit out of cars.