As the man handed me the Uzi, I slid the magazine into the well, charged the handle, raised the weapon and took it off safe. I aimed at the target and slowly pulled the trigger. I fired. Again. And again. And again.
I remember when I lived in Alaska and was a meat eater. The whole concept of “veganism” was an odd one – a stereotype of skinny, pasty, punk kids sitting in a drum circle eating lettuce and gravel. They were angry at the world,and irrational. I never took the time to meet or understand vegans, so my irrational vice held. That is of course, until I gave away all the meat and fish in my freezer and became an Alaskan vegan myself.
I soon realized the error of my ways.