FLATLANDER SHOOTING GAZETTE By: I.M. Amazed Dateline: Aurora Colorado. On a chilly Sunday morning, with a grey overcast sky threatening snow, or at the very least, freezing rain a group of die hard shooting enthusiasts gathered at the Aurora Gun Club for the long awaited A.L.I.D.W.A. Championships. All eyes were on a southern Colorado shooter who showed up, not with premium factory ammunition or even meticulously remanufactured JHP or FMJ ammunition but rather with a brown paper sack full of lowly lead bullets haphazardly thrown together on an inferior reloading press of unknown manufacture buy reported to be BLUE in color. The Colorado man, adorned in an obviously stolen or perhaps purchased from an Army Surplus store under false pretenses, Vietnam era bush hat strode nervously back and forth along the shooting berm perimeter awaiting his turn to shoot the stage. To the casual onlooker it may have looked as though the shooter was nervously talking to himself, mentally and emotionally gearing up for his chance at world fame. A fellow shooter, who identified himself as the Colorado man's friend and confidant surreptitiously admitted that rather than talking to himself the southern Colorado shooter was actually talking to his imaginary friend, Willard. The confidant related that it had been going on for several years, ever since the unfortunate accident and subsequent head injury. In a hushed voice and after a furtive glance to insure that no one was in ear shot the confidant questioned if maybe Janet Reno hadn't been right... some people shouldn't be allowed to own guns. At last it was time for our protagonist to shoot and when he stepped to the starting box he could still be heard mumbling... 'I don't know what I'm doing, I don't think lead is good enough for competition shooting... what if my sights are off... what if there's too much smoke... what if excessive leading raises pressures to dangerous levels... what if my adult sized Depends fail me durning a mag change... what if..." The shooter's overt misgivings were compassionately set to rest by the crowd's unison and seemingly rehearsed chant of... "SHUT THE HELL UP AND SHOOT!" History shall relate, for time immemorial how that questioning southern Colorado shooter finally realized that lead, one of the most common yet least respected of our minerals excels in the world of shooting sports... especially at the A.L.I.D.W.A. Championships, or technically known as... AT LEAST I DIDN'T WOUND ANYBODY Jack Wanna kill these ads? We can help!