Nat Slaughter, he of the famous Slaughter brothers though not all of them are brothers, tells me that he'd like to see a quicker barrel-up time from me as we prepare for our deep-brush hog hunt. He's probably right. I'm accustomed to using a shorter barreled shotgun and am not as fast with a 28 incher so it's practice then more practice until I'm at least halfway decent enough to participate along with the local pros. Missing that quail isn't quite as dangerous as letting a big ass pig shit in your messkit and besides, who wants to look like a chump when surrounded by the Slaughters. Nat figures that once I'm quicker than a second from "HEY ASSHOLE THERE IT IS SO SHOOT THE FUCKIN THANG", to BOOM, all will be well and dandy. Of course, he won't tell me how quick HE is, and that's something once doesn't press a Slaughter about.
We're timing this via buzzer to pie plate at 10 yards, and I'm not too far off. I can hipshoot the sucker in the blink of an eye but no way in hell get the slug dead center. Can't get it dead center with a Buckhammer either, so I've switched to Brennecke's and they seem much more accurate in my gun.
Stay tuned. Failing that, keep an eye on the obituaries.
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