*SIGH* Good times, good times...
Heck, even up into High School, my friends and I used to play our own version of run-n-gun!!
Admittedly, we were hoodlums and horrible children, who've all gone on to fester in careers like MD, Business Owner, Dell, and what-not. But what do you expect from kids who play with guns?!?
I still remember the fun we had...we got several of those Tec-9 clones that shot rubber Air-Soft bullets. Single shot, you had to pull the bolt back to cock it each shot, but it had a magazine that held about ten or twelve shots. Good out to about ten feet, and hella fun!
Of course, being the good gearhead that I was already on my way to becoming, I took that sucker apart, and was APPALLED to find the spring on the piston was only about six inches long!!
"Well, to Hell with THAT!" I thought to myself. I stretched that sucker out until it was about THREE FEET long, and compressed it back until I could rebuild the gun. It came as quite a SHOCK to my opponents, one day, when I levelled that thing at them from about sixty feet away. Fingers pointed. Laughter erupted. Some of them doubled over at the thought. It was as if I were threatening the High School Quarterback with a Spork. An untrained Spork, at that!
Then I shot that first, glorious round. It hit my friend Travis squarely in the midsection. Eyes snapped open. Mouths formed horrified "O"s as the implication set in. I had created the run-n-gun equivalent of the Barrett .50!! Sure, the bolt cracked under pressure after about twenty-five shots, but who cared?!?
For those twenty-five shots (taken carefully from an assortment of roofs, trees, and gutters)...I was GOD. I knew better than to shoot it at anyone closer than twenty-five feet, of course (hey, EVERY weapon has its drawbacks, eh?), but nothing short of a full-bore rush by five or six of my friends stood a chance of getting that close, anyway.
Remind me to tell you about the tracer-gun fights we STILL occasionally have, when we all can get together and out of our respective offices!!