Do any of you remember the TV show: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. ? Man I loved that show. Back in the '60s I had a lot of Man from U.N.C.L.E. toys. In fact, I still have one of the toy guns. It was the cigarette lighter/radio, gun. It was soooooooooo cool. One year, for Christmas, while we lived at our Grandmother's house, I got the THRUSH sniper rifle. Man, that thing had it all.
It had infrared scope, and you could turn a little wheel on it to change the target. Like, one was of a tank, another was of a soldier, and another one was of a PT boat. Then if you flipped it one more turn you had regular rifle sights and you could shoot off caps. It was the best present in the world. I don't remember what else I got that year. Probably the usual, socks, underwear, sweater -- you know, the not fun stuff.
So any way, I had this rifle and I shot more bad guys then John Wayne, Roy Rogers, The Cisco Kid, Gene Autry, and Vic Morrow (from Combat) ever had. It was my pride and joy. I spent all the change I could find, beg, borrow, and (yeah) snitch for caps. I shot so many caps that I really had to clean it so the caps would run through the rifle.
Then one night, my sister and I got into a fight about something. I don't even remember what it was about, but it must of been important at the time. She had my Thrush rifle and I had some dumb thing of hers and we were going back and forth. She hit me so I hit her back. This went on for several minutes. I told her if she hit me one more time I was going to break whatever it was that I had of hers. She said if I did, she would break that dumb gun of mine.
Well, that was that. I told her it was not some dumb old rifle. She knew how I felt about it! She got this mean-eyed stare, took the rifle by the barrel and by the back stock and SNAP -- she broke the rifle in two. I could not believe it! She really did it! I didn't know what to do. She then hauled off and hit me, took whatever it was I had of hers, dropped the two parts of my rifle and ran off.
I was in tears. I cried and cried. It was a good thing our Dad was not around because then the you know what would have hit the fan.
Our grandfather, Pappy, tried to fix my rifle by melting the barrel back on. It worked, but the damn barrel was bent and it just did not look as cool as it had. My sister was all smug and acting like it was not her fault. Well, I quit playing with that rifle. I put it away and brought it out just every now and then to play with.
But, it just wasn't right! So, it was then that I started to plan my revenge.
It took several months, and the weather got warmer. My plans were ready. I decided that I would get her back. She was in the backyard, setting on the ground, talking through the side fence to the girl next door. I went out the front door, and walked around the other side of the house. She couldn't see me. I got over next to our garage and lifted up the big garage door, just enough for me to squeeze through.
My dad had a little Daisy BB gun. He used it to shoot dogs in the butt to keep them from pooping in the yard and he was quite good at it.
So, I found the BB gun and gently crawled back out under the garage door. Then I crawled around to the other side of the garage, taking my time. I found a good spot in a lilac bush. I cocked the BB gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The BB went and hit the dirt about 20 feet behind her. She never heard it, nor did the girl she was talking to.
Now I was getting mad. What kind of BB gun was this!? I cocked it again, this time aimed it at my foot and pulled the trigger. Man! Did that hurt! Now I was trying to figure why it won't shoot so far.
I cocked it again, pulled the trigger, and the BB hit about the same spot. I cocked it again, took aim, raised the front of the barrel a little, and pulled the trigger. This time, the BB hit about a foot behind her. It then bounced and caught my sister in the left check of her butt. She screamed, the girl on the other side of the fence screamed, and I giggled. She jumped up and started to rub her butt very vigorously, still jumping up and down. I crawled out of the lilac bush over to the garage door, opened it just enough to get in, replaced the BB gun to its spot in the garage, crawled back out, and closed the big door all the way.
I then walked casually back towards the front of the house, then went up the street to my friend Marc's house. I stayed there for several hours playing. Of course I told Marc what I had done. We both laughed and laughed. Pretty soon, Grandmother called Marc's house and told me it was time to come home for dinner. So,I walked the 4 blocks back to our house.
When I got there, my sister was still sniffing and snotting all over the place. All of the grown-ups thought that she had been stung by a bee or bitten by an ant. I never said a word. And she did not have a mark on her.
For the rest of the summer, everytime she would set her butt at that same spot at the fence to talk to the girl next door, I would snipe her butt. I bet I shot her in the butt at least 20 times that summer and never did get caught. But once, my dad needed the BB gun to go after a big dog that kept pooping in the yard and digging up the flower garden. The dog would just jump the fence, do his thing, jump back over the fence, and go on his merry way. Well my dad grabbed the BB gun one day and found that there was not that many BB's left in the gun. He never asked, and I never told.
I didn't say anything for years. Then one day my sister and I got into another spat. I told her if she didn't hush up that I would shoot her in the butt. She turned red as a fire truck. I headed for the door. She figured it out. She broke a broom trying to get me.
Even now I don't turn my back on my sister, paybacks being what they are!