Home By Marquel Annie, Please Forget about Your Gun. Your Loving Nanny

Annie, Please Forget about Your Gun. Your Loving Nanny

Marquel, TPVs NYTimes guns-for-kids-make-a-wish Section correspondent, was brushing his teeth while listening to the radio when he read A 9-Year-Old at a Shooting Range, a Spraying Uzi and Outrage.  After a girl from New Jersey accidentally killed her instructor at a shooting range in Arizona, her parents’ cellphone video caused a worldwide spectacle.

Marquel, who has been in many a risky situation, never packs a gun. Mufi, his friend and a secret, double, and triple agent, for forty years around the globe, “doesn’t need a gun. I’m a man.”

Marquel asked why Mufi, who had to escape over the Berlin Wall three times, in both directions, didn’t need a gun.
“You see that bullfrog there?” He asked, as he was making Sichuan frog, “watch this.” He made a sudden motion with two fingers, flipped the animal into the air and it landed dead.
Marquel asked how he would fare with an armed Russian. Mufi started laughing.
“They are the easiest!” He said. “That’s why they get captured by the battalion, not individually. The Chinese are the biggest threats, because many of them know my techniques. Americans, unfortunately, know nothing. That’s why they think they need Uzis.”
But that really wasn’t the issue. Why do children need to shoot guns. According to Mufi, nobody needs guns, so what argument could exist for a child needing a gun? Marquel went to one of those shooting parks to see.
“What would you like to try?” The owner asked.
“I have a three year old who’s really into guns,” I said, “is there any reason I should let her try it?”
“A reason? A million reasons. She’s gonna grow up faster than you can say Remington. You don’t want her scared of guns. She should feel comfortable with them.”
“So what would you recommend?” I asked.
“Interesting. She could handle any of the electronically detonated munitions, like a tank or recoilless rifle, ground to ground rockets, even an sa6 or s75 anti aircraft missile. You just press a button. It’s easier than watching tv.”
“Yes I’d certainly like her to feel as comfortable with an sa6 as she is with Sésame street,” I said.
“We usually only allow them to shoot that when Malaysian airlines is in the vicinity,” he said. “Why don’t we try the s75.”
“What’s the target?” I asked.
He pointed to a ridge and said, “That school is out of session. It should be safe to try that.”
“Let me go get her,” I said, and I hurried out to find a family to lend me a toddler. When I assured them that she would get to shoot everything they’d let her shoot for free, they handed her to me as if she’d just won a teddy bear. “Here we are,” I said, “can you explain what she’ll be doing?”
“Sure.You see that school building up there? You’re going to blow it up!” She clapped her hands as if I’d just promised her an ice cream. They strapped her in the rocket launcher, showed her the red button, and did the aiming for her.
When they told her to watch the building and make sure she hit it, she was in seventh heaven. She pressed the red button, a huge missile went off with a smoke trail as big as an SUV, and in seconds the school was dust. The girl shouted and her parents were awed.
“I want another, I want another,” she said.
“Of course you do,” said the owner, “you’re an American!”
She looked around, and he gave her an m16 with a grenade launcher fixed to the barrel.
“Want to put a big hole right next to your parent’s car?” She was asked. Again she clapped her hands.
The owner took some readings of the car, the parking field, and did some quick computations. He set the rifle on edge and measured the angle with a simple inclinometer.
“Whenever you’re ready, honey, just pull this trigger with both hands. And watch your car!”
The grenade launched with a small crack. We could see it flying towards the car, then lost it. Suddenly a “whump,” her car lifted off the ground slightly, and what looked like a crater was left lying right next to the car.
“Good precision shooting!” Said the owner.
The parents shouted again and the little girl clapped her hands. The owner looked at his watch and said, “we can try that S75 now. Malaysia Airlines will be just over the horizon in a minute.”
Sure enough what looked like a colorfully painted Airbus appeared in the distance. The owner explained,
“we don’t want to hurt it if we can help it but this is really fun. You’re going to shoot this rocket right off the right wing. It will automatically explode when it detects the strobe there and really scare the crew.”
Once again she was strapped in, this time into a little control booth, and the owner set some dials. The plane was now visible right above us.
“Now you and I have to do this together. This key is yours and the other is mine. When I say ‘go’ you turn your key and I’ll turn mine. It’s pretty noisy so just watch the plane.”
In seconds a huge rocket propelled itself towards the Airbus. We could see its entire flight and when it was abreast the plane, a luminous explosion lighted the sky. Sure enough the plane dipped, then fell several thousand feet, then recovered.
“You’re a natural,” said the owner, “a real American hero!”
The little girl clapped non-stop, and repeated,
“I’m an American hero, I’m an American hero,” over and over. The parents were in heaven and the entire crowd clapped long and loudly watching the Airbus awkwardly right itself.
The owner explained that it was
“just clean fun, nobody got hurt, we learned a lot and America is that much safer.”
He pinned an American hero medal onto the girl, we all exchanged handshakes, and they drove away in their sparkling new SUV, except for the right side which was covered in dust.

5 COMMENTS

  1. You’re right – instead of the great American Tragedy we live with national and local idiocy. Bravo to us!

  2. nice pick . what do you do M? Do you close your eyes and choose a news item at random?

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