The Battle Continues

The other day, my dad told me that he'd ordered an automatic pellet gun. You know, so he doesn't have to pump it up during his vendetta against the tree dwelling rodents. After burbling in my brain for awhile, Donald and I came up with the mental image of my dad, with a tommy(pellet)gun in each hand, Rambo-style red bandanna, crossed bandoliers of ammo across his chest, pipe clenched in teeth while grimacing. And in the background it's all smokey and red, and the squirrels are dropping with squeals of terror, while that operatic tune plays in the background. You know the one, dun-dun dun-dun! dun-dun dun dun! dun-dun-dun DUN-dun dun-dun-dun! Oh, we had a good laugh at that one. :D