Irradiated by Stingray
Idly wasting my afternoon, my inbox announced the arrival of a new email. On inspection, it was from our pet gunsmith, Spear. This is a person to whom I speak on the internet quite literally every day. He has been, and remains a welcome guest here at the Nerd Ranch. The relationship is not exactly the sort of professional level arrangement you would find between two opposing lawyers. Thus, when I read:
Mr. S. Ray
This email is just to double check and confirm the work I have to do for you.
First will be a complete refinish on the previously duracoated CZ-75.
Secondly will be installing a new safety and a complete trigger/action job on the springfield 1911.
If there is something I omitted or if there is something else you’d like done, please let me know.
…I was a tad curious. Obviously, there is only one appropriate way to respond. So I did.
Sr. Percival Jose Chucklenuts Jr., esq.,
Your lurid prose inducing quite profound tumescence in certain portions of the anatomy notwithstanding, I find your catalog of charges accurate and correct.
After some period of omphaloskepsis while considering your missive (that I assure you most certainly did at no point involve any quantity of lubricating solution or absorbent paper products), I have reached the conclusion that I do indeed wish to press further upon your talents and impose addendums in the pursuit of ensuring my role as baddest motherfucker with two swinging nuts and a hog like a length of pipe.
Primarily, with regards to the 1911, provenanced of the fine Springfield Manufacturing Concern, I desire most thoroughly that the nether regions of the device receive chamfering in order to facilitate the insertion of magazines- verily, bevel the magazine well so I can mag-fuck the donkeypiss of the device.
Additionally, I would have you ramp the barrel to encourage the proper feeding of ammunition of more modern design, such as bullets with what is called a “hollow point.” My desire is that should a gentleman of differing morality engage in a debate with such bawdiness as is common in Those People, that I should be capable of punching as many fist sized fuckholes in the shitheel as fast as I can pull the trigger on that bitch.
My sincere thanks for your communication are of course included.
Monsignor Commissioner Herr Jinglehopper the 13th