So my spotter, who is also my room mate and (bed hog) & I have not had a call out, neither Federal nor criminal, in a while.



And you know how it is to have the itch.

And rifleman such as yall's know the imperative need for frequent rimfire therapy.

Seeing as how the vehicle is down/getting a new tranny, (no wheels at the moment) and it's 181* outside @ 214% humidity, we held a quick meeting.


We unanimously voted 2-0 to open & launch the "Hallway Indoor Shooting Range," in our condo, here in the 'plex!


The trusty tape measure witnessed we could get a range of a full 10 meters, ha! Classic indoor air rifle, off hand, competition range.


So out in the garage an old ugly worn pine 4x4 post has been floating around. We cut it up and screwed the pieces together to make a 1 ft. x 1 ft. x 1 ft. Cube back stop. Tally-ho!

I had my eyes and ears, but dip-wad of course couldn't find his ear-pro. We improvised.

I keep telling him if I ever find a better spotter that's available, I'm done with his jerk self.

I mean it's like at my every stinking shot he's got some rash of crap for me:

"don't let that miss rattle you, this next shot, if you'll, like, use an eyeball or something, and actually look through the scope maybe, this next shot will be better, surely- I can feel it in my tail."

Or something like:

"ok, that last shot, surely you were randomly experimenting with using your thumb to pull the trigger. Yeah, don't ever do that ever again not even once. You're embarrassing us."

And that one time he exclaimed "hurry, hand me the radio! I'll call down to the pitts and tell them you got in a hurry on that one and chambered the round backwards, = flyer city. "

Total prick. But I cant find a better team mate.

Tonight I just kept saying "shut up mother Hubbard and just call the correction."

(And what's with the peeing anywhere/everywhere at the ranges?)

Such has been our relationship the last 2 years.

Anyway- I drug out the super cool Rascal

An an old box of CCI SUB-SONIC that had a bit of black mold inside the box and white lead salts on the projo's.

We set up a bench to first see if the ammo was actually able to put shots touching at our formal 10meters, before He & I duel'd it out, off hand.

Happy to report that crappy ammo and the Super Rascal would make bug holes despite the powdered out white lead salts and all. Some of the bullets looked like old, dug up Civil War slugs, lol.

After bench testing the world's worst rimfire ammo in Condo Hallway Range of The 'Plex, I was about to put away the bench rest set up- when my spotter, his name is Sgian-Dubh- made the fatal mistake.

He said "if you ever tell any one what I was using for ear-pro just now, Im ripping your throat out in your sleep."

Well, Im THAT GUY. Tell me what I had better not do, or threaten me, or dare me, and something in me MUST then do it. Even if I know I'll quadruple highly regret it later. So I snapped a Pic. Ha!
Smart mouth, captain comedy spotter man.

And I won the 10m offhand competition too. Ha!
Mr. Mouthy, a sore loser claims I have an unfair advantage: opposing thumbs.

Whatever, Mother Hubbard.

He said "it's called off *HAND,* idiot."

Boo-hoo, Mother Hubbard.

Big fun all around with me and my spotter.

Round 2, tomorrow!