Summary: Striker tries to teach Jake how to handle a gun.
Jake stared at the toy gun sourly. "I thought you'd teach me how to shoot a gun!"
"I am teachin' ya, kiddo. That's your gun." Striker replied simply.
"It's not a real one!"
"Boy, I'm not puttin' a real weapon in yer hands 'till you learn to respect 'em."
Jake blinked. "What do you mean?"
Striker didn't answer the question. Instead, he placed empty cans and bottles on strategic spots at different distances from where Jake stood. He frowned as he noticed how Jake was holding the toy gun.
"Rule number one," he began, gently pushing the barrel of the toy downward. "You don't point yer gun at anythin' you don't intend to shoot. Ya might get into trouble for stickin' a bullet into someone's brains. Rule number two, treat all weapons as though they could fire at any time."
"They can do that?" Jake asked curiously.
"If someone is stupid enough to leave their guns loaded when not usin' it, then yes. The toy gun doesn't have it, but usually, most pistols and guns have a safety device." Striker slipped his pistol out and pointed to said device. "Even so, you can't rely on it all the time. The 'safety' might be off when you think it's on, or it can fail. That's why you should unload yer gun when yer done usin' it."
"Can I start shooting now, dad?" Jake asked rather impatiently. To his chagrin, his father instead began a rather long explanation on weapon safety. Then Striker carefully corrected his posture; he had him hold the toy gun with both hands. "How come you and Blitz hold them with one hand?"
"'Cause we're far more experienced than you, Jake. And even then, we do know how to properly hold a weapon." Striker gently moved Jake's hands into a proper position. "There. Always keep a firm grip on yer gun, but do not put yer finger on the trigger unless you intend to actually shoot. Once you pull it, it means you're serious." He stepped aside. "Alright, now pick a target and-"
He wasn't done talking when Jake pulled the trigger. Unsurprisingly, the cork projectile didn't go an inch close to the target. Frowning, Jake tried again. And again. He was about to shoot the fifth one when his father snatched the toy gun.
"You're wasting ammo like that, kiddo. And never shoot at random like that, yer bullets might end up hurtin' somebody you didn't mean to." Striker said sternly before handing him the gun back. "Focus on one target at a time."
Jake took a deep breath and did as told. He aimed the barrel of the gun at the nearest can and pulled the trigger. This time around, the cork missed by a few inches.
"Ow, my eye!"
Striker sighed. "Well done, kid. You just killed Moxxie."