Hey what's up it's C.F. Bundy here, and I really fucked up my mouth the other day with Lays Poppables so that's p cool

Anyway time for review

Angavel: :)

"Sskskk hey This story is...": Thanks dude, glad to hear you like it!

"Excuse me- excuse me, could I ask you a question?"

The man slowed to look at him. America sighed and jogged over, clipboard in hand. He'd been out for two hours and there hadn't been a single person that stopped. Whenever news reporters would go out to ask questions, America had always assumed they received plenty of responses, enough to cherry-pick considerably. Perhaps it was the microphone and camera, or maybe the intensity of the situation. America understood that he looked like he was asking for donations for some progressive organization, but… he always stopped, even if he very rarely donated.

His citizen said nothing, and America took that as a sign to speak. "What do you think of gun violence? Is it a problem, and if so how do you think we should fix it?"

The man grinned rather joyously. "Yes, I think it's a problem," he said. "I was actually just going to meet up with my friends and discuss it. Would you like to join, and we can talk about it more?"

America stared. Who the hell just invited someone they didn't know? Did the man think he was a fellow liberal? America supposed it was possible; if he was a human he ought to be in college, and he supposed he had a more standard accent, not to mention the clipboard. But even then, who the hell discussed shit like this with their friends? Who brought random people to hang out, and what friends would be okay with that?

"We haven't really come up with anything yet, but the best way to initiate action is to group together and gain support."

The man kept walking. America hurried to keep up. "Right," he said.

"So, what's your name?"

"Alfred. What's yours?"

"Jacob. It's nice to meet you. So anyway, as I was saying, the best way to make a change in the system is to rally support where you can."

"Uh-huh. Right. But what exactly do you want to change?"

"Well…" Jacob hesitated. "Well, we're not really sure yet. My friend, Lucia, thinks that the Second Amendment should be abolished. My girlfriend, Caitlin, opposes the idea, but she's for restrictions. My other friend, Kai, thinks that we could benefit from having more extensive mental health programs. It's important to have that sort of perspective."

"Perspective?" America queried.

"Yeah. Variety is the spice of life."

America nodded. It was hard to walk close to Jacob; he waved his hands in a very careless manner when he spoke. "So then, do you have anyone who doesn't think gun violence is real, or anyone who thinks that people kill people and they'd do so whether or not they have guns?" He asked.

"Like- like a Republican?" Jacob faltered, and America felt like he ought to be embarrassed somehow.

"Well-,"

Jacob laughed, cutting America off. "No, we don't have any Republicans. They're a lost cause."

"That's like saying that you really like seasoning on your food, but only ranch and pepper and mayonnaise," America protested. "That's not really variety at all."

"So are the Republicans supposed to be hot sauce, peanut sauce, tomato sauce, pesto sauce, and all other sauces, as well as all other spices? Are they yogurt and milk and cheese too?"

America thought it over for a moment. "Fair point."

"Anyway, we can't work with them. The Republicans are stuck in their ways. We just need to wait for them to die." America frowned at that. "We've tried before, but they won't work with us. It's really not our fault; we'd love to have more people to listen and debate with, even if they won't inevitably agree with us at the end of the day."

America doubted that was actually true, but said nothing.

"It's not their fault either, or at least not all the way. I know it's not, because most Republicans are old or raised that way or born in the best parts of red states or, alternatively, the worst parts of blue states. Republicans have a distorted view of Democrats because of things like that. Of course both parties are in control of shitty states and great states, but even if California was the grand American failure- and it's really not-, New York is still America's pride, so I think we're better."

"So you think being Republican is a disease?" America ignored the California and New York comments.

"One that's very difficult to cure. But I guess they're nice people to be friends with sometimes. I have this one friend, my roommate. He's a registered Republican and he's not really a very nice person, but he always has his portion of the rent on time. He has Republican friends too, though, and they're nice. They just don't seem too concerned with politics, so it's kind of hard to talk to them."

America wondered if Jacob thought he was hard to talk to.

Jacob went on to say, "I don't mind the other perspective, even if I don't agree with it, but I swear, dude… They run around like little fascists these days or some shit. They'll bend and swoop to anyone who rules the Republican Party, even if they're dumbasses who are bad at speaking. I get worried, sometimes, that one day there'll be someone who's actually good at speaking and is smart enough to manipulate people. On either side. When that happens we're fucked, I think. The demise of America."

America didn't know what to say about that.

They said nothing for a while. "So, I take it that you want to go to the meeting, then?"

"I suppose so."

They stopped at a vegan cafe about five minutes later. It was relatively empty save for a group of people sitting at one table. America assumed those were Jacob's friends.

Jacob opened the door and immediately introduced Alfred, proclaiming him a friend. Everybody greeted him as if he was family or some shit, which struck him as a bit strange.

Alfred didn't really feel like coffee or vegan pastries. He still bought a black coffee and a muffin, though, because small businesses and all that.

"Where's Kai?" Jacob asked.

"They're running late. Said that they stopped to buy a homeless family some trail mix from the nearest Whole Foods."

"Ah, okay." Jacob paused. "Which trail mix?"

"The California mix."

"Kai only buys others what they'd eat." Jacob smiled and stretched in his chair. "We'll wait for them before we discuss things- if that's alright with you, Alfred."

"Totally fine," America affirmed, but already he was beginning to regret that he'd gotten so far off task. Then he thought, Fuck my boss, and he felt a bit better, deciding to ignore that he was only inconveniencing himself.

Lucia began describing a very graphic dream she'd had about whipped cream. America tuned the group out and bit into his muffin. It was surprisingly good.

Kai eventually showed up. They toted a cloth bag filled with the 'California mix', announcing that they just couldn't help themselves, but when they saw America they immediately offered him one of the packages. America took it and stared at it. Dried Californian oranges and strawberries, California almonds, pretzels and dark chocolate. America could imagine that it might've been expensive, and besides, he would feel bad taking things from his people when unnecessary. "I'm allergic to strawberries, but thanks for offering," he said.

"Oh, bummer," Kai replied. They smiled at him and sat down.

The group briefly discussed the newest diet fads and then how their majors were going. "Alfred, which college do you go to?"

"I'm not going to college."

"Can you afford it?"

"Yes, I just have family at home to take care of," he lied. "I'll get around to it soon."

Caitlin stared for a moment. "Can't you just hire a nanny? You've got the money, right?"

"I have the money for college, but not a nanny."

"Oh."

After that they all took a particular interest in America which lasted all of five minutes. They were very nice in a way that made America feel genuinely inferior, as if he was a child and they were overprotective parents, but on a much more condescending level. He forgot about that when they began to discuss gun violence.

America went out with the emails and phone numbers of New York's senators and representatives, as well as Virginia's (which Caitlin had readily supplied when America said he was from Virginia, "just in case"). He had the websites of several organizations, but sadly enough did not leave with any direct information. He thanked them anyway and nodded sincerely as Jacob invited him to the next meeting and left his phone number on the corner of the page, and then he went on his way.

…

The second person that stopped for America listened to his question and had a genuine discussion with him- not about the issue, just about the weather. It was sub-par British interaction at best. America played along, hoping that she would say something of merit at the end.

America talked to the woman for about ten minutes, just about the weather. It was insane. She seemed very optimistic about it, which was refreshing for New York, but finally America had to say, "So, gun violence."

The lady frowned at him and said, "I'm not sure about that."

"What do you think of Americans owning guns, then?"

She beamed at him and said, "Well, I don't need one. Why would I pass up the opportunity to die?"

America couldn't write that down, but he no longer felt comfortable with looking directly at her.

"I think guns are important for the safety of homeowners. My father was obsessed with guns growing up. But I don't need one. It'd be a waste of money for me, anyway. I think I'd be content with death if someone broke into my house. Guns are only needed for people that actually want to live, although I guess it makes suicide much easier."

As the woman walked away, America realized that she was fairly young- in her twenties, perhaps- and he wondered if he should do something about that- but no, there was nothing he could do. Things like age never registered to America until later on, since he was older than everybody else and had become used to thinking of his citizens as naive and rather spoiled. Anyway, what was he supposed to do, exactly? Leave the number for the suicide hotline on the back of her hand?

…

America couldn't use a few of the opinions he received, namely the ones that came from presumed Republicans or general conservatives.

For example, the third person that stopped for him said that he thought gun violence was a problem, but that there were already enough restrictions and so America was sort of fucked. America didn't write that down, but he thought about it for a while afterwards. Were things really problems if they couldn't be solved, or were they just facts of life?

...

The next person America encountered actually tried to give him money. America had been walking around rather animatedly, trying to get people to talk to him, but everybody just shrugged him off.

Anyway, he'd been starting to pester this one dude who said, "Sorry, what are you collecting for?"

"What?"

"What organization or college are you collecting for? Are you doing a survey or asking for phone numbers? Or are you recruiting for something? What's it for?" The man was already getting out his wallet.

America held his hand up, rejecting the man's offer. "I'm just asking questions. I suppose you could call it a survey, but I'm not really doing anything special with the information. I'm just curious."

"Okay. What's the question about?" The idea that this man was so amiable without being particularly 'friendly'- like how Jacob and co. had been- struck America as annoying.

"Do you think gun violence is a problem, and if so, what do you think should be done about it?"

The man smiled, less joyously than Jacob, more so as if he was relieved to know the answer. "Yes, I think gun violence is a problem, and I think the only thing to do about it is to repeal the Second Amendment and get rid of guns."

"Why? What about self defense?" America asked. He wrote it down anyway, although there was nothing he could do with the opinion. Or any other opinions.

"The government will protect us. That's why we need to always be on top of our public servants."

The man was right about the public needing to be the ultimate master of public servants, but, "What about when they don't protect us? Do you mean the police? Police aren't required to defend you or really be there, they just do that because it's their job and moral obligation. They'd get paid at the end of the day anyway; they don't need to make themselves martyrs. So then what do you do if they decide not to?"

"If people really don't trust the government to protect them, they should look to see what they can do so the government becomes reliable."

"But people won't. Besides, if the government tried to take away guns next week, there would be a stockpile and a subsequent revolt. If you give it even longer, that's a shit ton of time to stockpile weapons."

"So then, stop selling them."

"People would still stockpile. They'd buy everything they could."

"But they would eventually fall out of circulation, wouldn't they?"

"I suppose so, but it would take a very long time."

"America's got time," the man responded. America himself wasn't so sure.

"It would be more like Prohibition than anything, but a lot more dangerous," America said finally. "This country loves going under the radar when things aren't allowed. It's one of the things we do consistently. Criminals would still be criminals, homeowners would still have guns, and everything would be the same, but illegal. That means there would be no difference between people with the intent to murder and people with the intent to defend in terms of legality, as all gun ownership would be seen as bad and with the intent to harm."

"That may be true… but if Prohibition had lasted a very long time, do you think that alcohol would've eventually gone out of fashion? How many people in future generations would be willing to take the risk? And even then, you can't get addicted to firing a weapon- not really, anyway- and the fantasy of safety that many Americans get from their weapons isn't as guaranteed as a buzz."

America shrugged. "That may be true, but Americans are rather paranoid. They like being safe, and more importantly they like knowing that they can keep themselves safe. I don't think they would derive as much pleasure from being cared for by the government like children, and anyway, let's say that this was a feasible, one-hundred-percent fool-proof solution that would allow for no more gun violence- no more kids shot, no more parents shooting everyone in the family and then killing themselves, no more criminals robbing banks. There still wouldn't be thirty-eight states to agree to it."

"I suppose that's true."

They talked about it for a bit longer and kept coming around the same points, until eventually the man continued along his way. It bothered America a fair bit, though, that the gist of 'Repeal guns' was 'take the hit'.

...

America was starting to get bored, but he would be undeniably pissed off if he only talked to several people after a full day of standing in the cold ass weather and getting mostly ignored when he could've been doing anything, most of which would've satiated his craving for near-constant attention on some level and also allowed him to stay warm. He had to do this anyway, so he may as well stay out until it was done.

Two men stopped next. One didn't say anything; the other said that guns were necessary for self-defense.

"Isn't that unnecessary, though?" America asked. "I mean, what are your chances of your house getting broken into?"

"Low, but you can bet your ass that I would shoot any motherfucker that dared to fuck with me."

America frowned at that.

"Shoot first, ask questions later. I'd pity the poor bastard that dared to try to break in, but such scum wouldn't deserve to exist. I'd be doing America a favor by killing someone like that."

America didn't really know what to say, so he let the man continue.

"God. Anyone who dares to break the law is scum. If anyone dared to steal my shit, I would shoot them in the head. No questions asked."

America was beginning to think that he might've picked the wrong person to answer.

"I've got four guns in my house, all in different locations. Do you own a gun?"

"No, no I don't," America said.

"Oh. Well, that's a pity, then. What if someone tries to kill you?"

"I don't think anyone's going to try to kill me."

"But what if they did?"

"I don't think they'd go out of their way to fuck off and shoot me when they're just trying to steal my TV."

"All criminals can get violent. You'll understand when you're older."

America frowned at that. "I don't think I could kill someone," he said quietly. It had been a long time since his nation had required him to do so. America had watched plenty of people die, but he couldn't imagine doing that himself. It was bad enough to be left behind by all of the citizens he might grow close to or admire. America hadn't gotten over the Founding Fathers and everyone afterwards was a sore spot. Even the people he didn't revere- such as someone who might break into his house, for example- were people he couldn't easily imagine killing; he wasn't in practice these days. "Besides, what if it was just a misguided teenager? Or- or what if it was a poor person? Or someone that was addicted to prescription drugs?"

"Does it make a difference? If you wander off the path in life, you're a fucking dumbass and you deserve whatever comes to you. They put themselves in that situation."

"Maybe so," America said. "Are you a civilian? Not a member of the military or a police officer?"

"Yes, I'm a civilian. Why?"

America nodded, took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Here's another question. Do you really think you could shoot someone who came into your house? I want you to think about it. Plenty of people would become shaky or paralyzed with fear as soon as they hear the downstairs window shatter or the front door kicked in. Could you shoot someone? A lot of people, especially civilians, would panic. They wouldn't be able to do it." America continued, "And besides. If you're not able to shoot when required, what the hell is the point of having a weapon? It's selfish, then, to make yourself out to be a hero and excuse the deaths of innocent people in Walmarts and malls and night clubs and schools, as well as people who might not easily commit suicide without a weapon, when there's no practical reason you should have a weapon. If you only think you could shoot a weapon and you have no way of knowing that you would actually have the courage to kill someone, there's no reason for you in particular to have a gun. If you're going to continue to argue for gun ownership as a means of defense, you may just as well go to the other side of the argument, because without some degree of individualism most people find no reason to care about the affairs of other people. So then, if you're not into individualism, you may as well be for the community."

"If someone hears a gunshot, they're going to run off," the man said. "I may not be prepared, but the intruder won't know that. Anyway, I would be prepared." The man then went on to describe how he would drag out the intruder's death (A/N: and I see no reason to discuss such unpleasant things for any reason; that would go past the rather tiny moral standard I have for things I publish on this website). America decided to block it out.

The other man, the one who'd been quiet up to this point, looked up at his presumed friend in something between disbelief and disdain. "That's sort of messed up, Geoffrey. How do you justify that to the police? Or the wasted bullets? Or the general efficiency? Or your conscience?"

I just find it funny, since you seem to fantasize about killing someone and there's only one way to do it legally, America wanted to say, but instead he said, "Say you have a kid- I don't know if you do or not. But let's say you do. Your kid also hears the window shatter and after a few moments of paralyzing fear decides to join you, but of course you're already alert and all you see is a shadow in the dark, moving quickly towards you. Do you see where I'm going with this? Not only do you shoot, but you shoot to kill. If this intruder is really someone as crazy and hellbent on murder as you make them out to be, a mistake like that could cost you both your lives."

"That wouldn't happen," Geoffrey said. They both ignored the other man.

"But you don't know. Or- or, do you remember being a teenager and sneaking around? What if one night you hear the door downstairs slowly open and you assume your teenager is safely in bed. So you go to investigate, but let's give you the benefit and say that you don't shoot on sight. It's still dark and you still can't see your kid, and when you see this intruder sneaking around, what are you going to do except shoot? Do you understand how much more likely it is that your teenager will sneak out as opposed to an intruder invading your home with the intent to kill you and everyone in your family? And anyway, say you drag their death out because they're an intruder. You just dragged your child's death out and they suffered immensely before they died. Sure, they were disobeying," America said quickly, uncertain of how far his citizens would go with justifying the punishment of a child these days, "but that's a pretty common thing. Sure, you would've been mad, but almost everyone sneaks out of their house and does drugs or drinks or has sex or goes to parties when they're a teenager. At least once."

"That wouldn't happen," Geoffrey said again, checking his watch. "Not for me or a lot of other people; my folks never owned a weapon, but all of the other gun owners I know were around guns since they were little. There's less panic if you're comfortable. Anyway, this conversation has taken long enough. Goodbye."

"Bye," America said.

Geoffrey started to walk away. The other man stayed and murmured, "I have a gun in my nightstand. I would shoot the intruder and then call the police and be done with it. I don't want to be the one that dies in a situation like that. That's all." And then he turned and walked away.

The man half-jogged to catch up with Geoffrey. Once he caught up he turned to Geoffrey, seemingly disturbed, but probably not so much as America was. Truly a pity that the reasonable tended to speak less.

...

America was just starting to shake off his feelings of discontent when the next person stopped for him. He'd still been asking strangers to answer his question, but much more half-heartedly, as he didn't really want to hear anyone's opinion anymore.

The next person was much less deranged. America asked the woman, rather dejectedly, "Ma'am, do you think that gun violence is a problem? An' if so, what do you think should be done about it?"

The woman thought for a moment and then shook her head. "I don't think it's much of a problem, or at least not enough to take away or restrict weapons anymore than they already are. I don't need a gun personally; not like I could carry one anyway. What would I do, whip it out of my handbag? What if I misfire? Anyway, that seems too risky. I'd rather keep pepper spray- but then, of course, if the wind is blowing my way I'm rather unlucky."

"What about self defense at home?" America asked.

"I live in an apartment building. I'll take my chances. But still, I can see why homeowners might want a weapon."

…

"I think we could benefit from increasing mental health programs in schools and implementing restrictions on certain types of weapons," The next person said.

"Where do we get the money?" America asked. He was a bit tired by now, and he couldn't really think of anything else to ask.

"Hm… I suppose we could raise taxes. Taking from departments that have proved particularly worthless in the past few years would also help."

"None of the departments are worthless," America said.

"I'd agree, but there are a few that have been allowed to become useless. Plus, some of them are ones we've survived without for long enough."

America didn't think that increasing mental health programs would work, and if someone really wanted to do the bad shoot-shoot then they'd be fine with whatever weapon they had access to, especially considering that many school shootings were targeted. "How do you think that increasing mental health programs in schools will help?" He asked finally. "Children are cruel, unforgiving assholes."

"That's true, but the bullied don't need to be ignored by everybody else."

America wrote it down, even though he felt pinning this on bullied children might be a bit odd, a bit too idealistic and a bit too misguided. The person bid him a good night and left.

…

America wondered how it was possible that he could feel dehydrated just from listening to a person.

America had gotten as far as, "Do you think gun violence is a problem and if so what should we-," when the person had interrupted him with,

"It's not a problem if it's the price of freedom." And the man had drawn a deep breath and America had sat on the curb to listen. "I don't think gun violence is a problem; besides, what's the alternative? What if we have to rebel against a tyrannical government?"

"I think the best way to take action against a tyrannical government is to not vote a tyrannical President into office."

"But what if-,"

"I think it's pretty easy to tell. If a dude sounds too good to be true, he's too good to be true, and if he's a little fucking bitch about things he's going to be even more of a little fucking bitch after he's securely in office."

"Yeah, but there are always going to be reasons."

"That's true. But sometimes being an idiot, or not being one, is good enough reason to vote for someone. Everyone has their drawbacks; all you need to really think when faced with two particularly bad candidates is, 'Sure, one seems like they're going to start WWIII, but the other one seems like they'll fuck up America from the inside.' And getting fucked up from the inside is much more humiliating than getting fucked up from the outside, so unless the other candidate explicitly states or at least implies that they're going to start WWIII, you might want to vote for them. Plus, there's always impeachment afterwards, but we all know how reliable members of Congress are."

"Do we know?" The man snapped. America said nothing. "And anyway, it's the cost of freedom. Say that the populace isn't well educated at all and they're just taught that America is great and a beacon of freedom. Don't the Americans seem stupid enough to vote a tyrant into power?"

"If there wasn't a political divide. Besides, it doesn't matter how many people vote so much as where. California will be Democratic for a long time yet, Wyoming will be Republican all the same. Florida and other swing states? That's where it matters. It still matters, maybe less so, in competitive states like Texas. So actually I guess the proper answer is yes, I do think Florida is stupid enough to majority-vote a tyrant into office."

The man was starting to repeat the same things he'd said before. America tuned it out.

America had an idea, and he wanted to test it out because he was bored. He knew it was his fault for asking, but he was still getting rather bored with the conversation. He said, "But I can totally see what you mean. That voting thing in Florida was totally fucked up. Completely unconstitutional. And that whole martial law thing? Messed. Americans can defend themselves; the government knows that. Thank God 2020 is behind us," America said, even though it really wasn't. "I mean, seriously. What the hell are we, Nazi Germany?... but funnily enough, I didn't see anyone standing up for the Constitution and freedom and democracy back then. No one with a gun, anyway. But no, seriously, I thought freedom-protectors or gun-wielding Republicans- although that's not entirely true, there are Democrat gun owners as well- were afraid of the federal government or whatever. Like, they didn't want the feds interfering with their shit. I guess everyone's big-government at the end of the day." America didn't necessarily agree with what he was saying, but what else could he do? He was bored and he wanted to make the man go sooner. America couldn't use whatever the man said anyway.

"Would it have been a good idea to stand up then?"

"So this is a tactical thing?" America laughed. "All the thirty percent of American adults with guns are just waiting to strike? Why not just wait until the election to vote, if you're going to constantly put it off? And anyway, there's no point in guns if the main reason is tyranny. You shouldn't tell Dems that we should have guns to fight against tyranny. That's a stupid reason."

"The Democrats are the fascists. Look at California; it's the closest we'll get to fascism in this country. You can't say anything right these days without getting 40 million people pissed at you."

"The closest?" America echoed, choosing to ignore that California's population was neither 40 million nor entirely Democratic. They weren't always wrong or fascist either. "Like, ever, or just right now, as we speak? Because I'm pretty sure we've been closer. Like, at least several times, my dude. Anyway, fascism is far right, isn't it? But I guess if you're a commie you'll still be pretty miserable. Still, California's American. They wouldn't go full commie on our asses."

"We've never been close to fascism before, but it could very well happen."

America pulled out his phone. Now he felt severely dehydrated, or perhaps like he hadn't slept in a week. He checked the news, sensing that eye contact wasn't necessary to keep the man talking.

'Signs of Fascism' Poster existence denied by US Holocaust Memorial Museum Officials

Opinion: Yeah we really fucked up with this past election but all we have to do is hold on my dudes so we'll be good

Man leaves wallet in El Segundo, proclaims he's 'gotta get it'; goes missing

America opened the article and began to read it. The man was still talking, seemingly no worse for lack of audience.

Jeremy Clarkson, 23, called all his friends and family to tell them he was heading to El Segundo to retrieve his lost wallet. His family says Clarkson has never been to El Segundo in his life.

The man checked his phone, startled, and then gave a rushed goodbye. "I would continue to talk more," he said, "but I have to leave. I'm late for dinner with my daughter."

"Okay. Have fun," America called out.

He went home after that and went directly to sleep.

So dudes the word count for this one is 5,623 but I swear it was 5,392 before I hit 'save' and I've added nothing + can't find anything repeated so idk/

I was going to do stereotypes for both conservatives and liberals, thinking it probably wouldn't offend anyone reading Hetalia fanfiction. So liberals are easy to do; non-cis/straight, naive, vegan elitists (definitely elitists and naive, but some people unfairly add in non-cis/straight and vegan for the hell of it). But then conservatives don't have any stereotypes that aren't fucked up so I couldn't do that without pissing someone off, nor did I want to write anything particularly offensive, so I didn't. And then afterwards I changed liberals versus conservatives to Democrats versus Republicans because liberal and conservative are very different in American politics as compared to the rest of the world.

I've really been enjoying my life. You never know, you know? So I've been trying to indulge in as much beauty as possible just in case the coronavirus fucks me over completely and utterly. Along with the 'You never know' thing, I've also got six or seven stories I'm trying to get out, but I've been making relatively little progress on any front. I also agonized over Republicans for a while while writing this, so that was cool and it took longer than it should have.

I'd like to apologize for Geoffrey, but I'm keeping him in just because my father is like this. When I was a kid, every time he got a new gun part or whatever he would patrol around the house and pretend he was looking for intruders, among other things. It was always uncomfortable, if not slightly amusing, when he did that. I think at least a somewhat worrying amount of Americans fantasize about self-defense like this while the rest (other gun owners and the 70%) are scared shitless at the idea of someone breaking into their house, but I'm not repping the rest or anything. That's why you'd own a gun, is fear, and that's why you wouldn't own a gun, fear also, right? That's what I always thought, anyway. I'm sure there are plenty of reasons, like hunting and fun and shit like that too.

Sorry to the Great States of California and Florida. I didn't mean it, I swear.

A review would be great. Don't die if you can help it. Have a splendid day.