Keed. I keed. But seriously... Had a woman want to see an officer because she thought someone had tried to break into her home. I arrived to see what she thought were prybar marks on her back door. She said that she lived alone, and was often scared because she is disabled and can't fight back. So she had bought a gun. From her brother. And he had thrown into the deal all the ammo he had for it. Problem was, she thought the pistol was broken because she had tried to fire it and it just went click. So I asked if I could check it out. She brings out a Raven .25ACP pistol, one of the very early ones that were actually fairly good (if inexpensive) guns. Real blued steel, and IIRC the .25Auto Ravens are fairly reliable. It was clean and the slide felt oiled and everything felt right. So I ask to see the ammunition. She goes back inside and brings out the box of ammo her brother had sold her. Here's a frame grab from my Scorpion cam. Yeppers, that's a box of bulk .22LR ammo he had supplied his sister. The rimfire rounds fit the magazine and easily chambered so she didn't know there was anything wrong with her ammo.