spacemanspiff
Senior Member
'tis was a cold morning, frozen dew stuck to the windows of every mans noble steel steed. only the manliest of men would dare to be caught outside without a jacket. the oldest amongst them complained every couple of minutes and shivered uncontrollably while cursing the fattest hobbit for not wearing a coat and not even being bothered by the balmy 30 degrees.
thus it was that a fat hobbit, no, make that two fat hobbits, wait, there was also Meat, so make that three fat hobbits, and one old elf set out on a quest to find a gun worth buying on a recent october morning.
one of the fat hobbits couldnt steer his steel steed because he needed a cup of tea, with some hippy concoction, 'soy' mixed into it. the other three cringed in terror that anyone would choose to drink such an artsy fartsy beverage! so the four had to stop and indulge the fancys of the caffiene-addicted, and then another fat hobbit wanted food, so they had to get some very un-kosher pig meat, also known as 'egg mcmuffins'. little did they know those ill-fated mcmuffins would conjure up the foulest smelling demons from the pits of their bowels a few short hours later.
the fellowship of the four reminisced of gunshows gone past, and deals narrowly missed on their way to Palmdor, the home of the fabled gunshow for that weekend.
howling winds, ice fog so think you could cut it with a knife, and paranoid delusional ramblings of the tinfoil-hatted hobbit kept everyone awake. alas, had they all awoken on time, and not stopped for tea and crumpets, they might have been caught up in the 18 steed wreck on the road. their laziness was thus rewarded.
before they knew it, and after berating the driver of the steel steed over and over for driving like an old woman, they arrived at their destination. they walked towards the building, with caution, and only one of them wanted to follow the rules and unchambered the weapon on his hip. who knows what kind of weapons the other three had on them and defiantly refused to disarm themselves. maybe they feared the Nazgul were closeby and needed their peashooters to calm themselves?
not seconds after entering the bustling castle did all four split up and perused table after table of.....................JUNK.
the fattest of the hobbits saw an enfield just like the one he traded a cz52 for, except the hobbits' was in far better shape, and was obtained much more economically. but the fat hobbit wasnt looking for another enfield, he wanted to see if there were maybe a mosin nagant, or dare he whisper it? a springfield 1903 for less than $400... but alas there was nothing of the like. a 1920 danzig mauser was available, but it had a sporterized stock, and a pricetag $100 more than it was worth to the hobbit. and when the hobbit peered at the muzzle, he saw it was clogged with lint/dirt/dust and the gods know what else.
fantastic tales were told at every table! a para p-14 was claimed to have been a custom work by Wild West Guns and worth $3000, but it didnt have any logos on it from WWG because the gunsmith did all the work from his garage.
the hobbit was smart enough not to ask any prices for the guns at that table.
there was plenty of security at this place though! all over the place were very undiscreet 'secret shoppers', watching the crowd to make sure no one stole. but alas, they should have been more worried about people trying to pressure the wandering souls into buying raffle tickets! ferocious these salesleeches were in their attempts to take the hobbits hard earned money.
so it was that the hobbit left, only one of them actually buying anything, a few boxes of ammo, and some bufflo and caribou sausage. our story ends with the hobbits (and old elf) still having money in their pockets and awaiting the next journey to another gunshow in 3 months.
maybe that time they'll be fortunate enough to find my preeecciousss.
thus it was that a fat hobbit, no, make that two fat hobbits, wait, there was also Meat, so make that three fat hobbits, and one old elf set out on a quest to find a gun worth buying on a recent october morning.
one of the fat hobbits couldnt steer his steel steed because he needed a cup of tea, with some hippy concoction, 'soy' mixed into it. the other three cringed in terror that anyone would choose to drink such an artsy fartsy beverage! so the four had to stop and indulge the fancys of the caffiene-addicted, and then another fat hobbit wanted food, so they had to get some very un-kosher pig meat, also known as 'egg mcmuffins'. little did they know those ill-fated mcmuffins would conjure up the foulest smelling demons from the pits of their bowels a few short hours later.
the fellowship of the four reminisced of gunshows gone past, and deals narrowly missed on their way to Palmdor, the home of the fabled gunshow for that weekend.
howling winds, ice fog so think you could cut it with a knife, and paranoid delusional ramblings of the tinfoil-hatted hobbit kept everyone awake. alas, had they all awoken on time, and not stopped for tea and crumpets, they might have been caught up in the 18 steed wreck on the road. their laziness was thus rewarded.
before they knew it, and after berating the driver of the steel steed over and over for driving like an old woman, they arrived at their destination. they walked towards the building, with caution, and only one of them wanted to follow the rules and unchambered the weapon on his hip. who knows what kind of weapons the other three had on them and defiantly refused to disarm themselves. maybe they feared the Nazgul were closeby and needed their peashooters to calm themselves?
not seconds after entering the bustling castle did all four split up and perused table after table of.....................JUNK.
the fattest of the hobbits saw an enfield just like the one he traded a cz52 for, except the hobbits' was in far better shape, and was obtained much more economically. but the fat hobbit wasnt looking for another enfield, he wanted to see if there were maybe a mosin nagant, or dare he whisper it? a springfield 1903 for less than $400... but alas there was nothing of the like. a 1920 danzig mauser was available, but it had a sporterized stock, and a pricetag $100 more than it was worth to the hobbit. and when the hobbit peered at the muzzle, he saw it was clogged with lint/dirt/dust and the gods know what else.
fantastic tales were told at every table! a para p-14 was claimed to have been a custom work by Wild West Guns and worth $3000, but it didnt have any logos on it from WWG because the gunsmith did all the work from his garage.
the hobbit was smart enough not to ask any prices for the guns at that table.
there was plenty of security at this place though! all over the place were very undiscreet 'secret shoppers', watching the crowd to make sure no one stole. but alas, they should have been more worried about people trying to pressure the wandering souls into buying raffle tickets! ferocious these salesleeches were in their attempts to take the hobbits hard earned money.
so it was that the hobbit left, only one of them actually buying anything, a few boxes of ammo, and some bufflo and caribou sausage. our story ends with the hobbits (and old elf) still having money in their pockets and awaiting the next journey to another gunshow in 3 months.
maybe that time they'll be fortunate enough to find my preeecciousss.
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