I'm bored to death with work. I need to shoot, something. Perhaps I'll lock the shop and climb into my truck and find some zombies to tag.
I might even drive over to my friend, Duke's house and see if I can drag him away from his firewood pile.
Last year Duke recorded a great double on fleeing democritters which I recorded as a single since both critters pants had dropped to ankle level. Fair is fair.
Senior as our driver. He performs well behind the wheel. I'll try and keep a rifle out of his hands as he has a tendency to fire full auto which is a true waste of a now precious resource. So we'll put his more fire controlled wife, Glock Mom on shotgun duty. She's a far better shot than her jittery husband.
First though, we'll need to drop by the courthouse for tags. This is serious business. To tag a Zombie critter one must jump, after of course you confirm a solid hit, from the moving vehicle and place the tag just so on the fallen critters ear and then snap a picture for the state. Tag placement and clear photos are then submitted to the local courthouse. When validated ten points are awarded. Fuzzy snapshots are voided.
Wish us luck.
My trigger finger has a deep itch.
(I write the laws to suit my purposes.)