|Pew-Pew, ow friggin, ow ow ow ow ow.|
One weekend my sister, her boyfriend, my brother and I went on a bike ride and camping trip on along trail between the canyon behind his house and the next one over. We started out riding and going just fine after two hours we stooped at a likely place and set up camp. We had our camp set up and the fire going and we broke out the firearms to pass some time. One of the ones we were using was a little two shot Derringer pistol that was at one time part of a belt buckle arrangement for a man who needed a tiny gun right by his genitals at all times. I think most of us could more of less use something like that every day but this was a man who went from the dreaming of it to the doing of it. The belt buckle was left home but the tiny armament was brought along loose with a couple dozen shells to plink a thing of two in the wild open spaces of the great outdoors. All of us but my sister's boyfriend had a turn at the gun and had no problems but that was because it was our gun and it knew who its masters were. When the usurper took his turn he was not so lucky, not so lucky at all. He bent the gun in half to remove the spent shells and then reloaded it and took aim at a can we had set up about 25 feet away. He shot the first shot and then cocked the second hammer. There was a much louder bang than usual and there was more smoke then was typlical. When we were able to see what had happened the gun was broken open and there was a piece of meat missing out of Mr. Boyfriend's thumb and there was a pretty good sized piece of brass from the shell casing in its place. As is the case with lots of deep wounds it didn't start bleeding for a second while his blood organized its efforts to really gush out all over the place. And it gushed and gushed. I tried to wrap it for him be the chunk of metal in his thumb made it hard to compress the wound without making it worse. We decided to fish out the brass before we proceeded and luckily the concussion of the backfire had numbed his thumb so I was able to pull out the piece without too much discomfort to him. Well, too much more then he was already in. After the wound was de-metaled and wrapped tight he was still thinking that it was hurting worse then he was willing to cope with and we packed up camp to get him to some proper medical care. The riding made his heart rate go up and his hand was below his heart so it made it hurt worse so we had to stop and walk with his hand up high to keep the pressure down. It took a little over four hours to get back out walking with our bikes and it was dark by the time we got back to the truck. We headed home and dropped him off at his house and I never heard about the thumb injury again. When we got home it was about midnight and all the doors were locked so we slept on the trampoline because no one would answer the door. All in all it was not the worst camping trip I had ever been on.