by Kenneth Harper Finton © 2015
“Did you see what Fred got me for my birthday,” Wilma said. “A brand new pink pistol.”
“You are planning to shoot someone,” Betty replied.
“No, I am not planning to do that.”
“Then what will you do with it?” Betty asked.
“Target practice, I guess. It’s small and fits my purse and hand.”
“Same thing,” Betty said.
“What do you mean?” asked Wilma.
“Target practice is learning the skills for killing people.”
“Not to me. I enjoy it.”
“What do you think a pistol it for?” Betty asked. “A pistol is for killing people. They aren’t for hunting. Rifles are for hunting. Pistols are made just to kill people.”
“Or target practice,” Wilma reiterated.
“Targets are pretend people. Same difference.”
“Well, I don’t know. Fred got it for me to defend myself.”
“Defend against what?” Betty asked.
“You never know. Maybe a wild…
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Thank goodness our intellect has evolved beyond the cave-man days of Betty and Wilma!…8]
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