- an instant message from mom saying she was drunk (!), and there were things she regretted, and if i thought life couldnt always be made better i should reconsider, and dont turn erections into limp, lolling flesh - my bike all loaded down in full touring mode, pedaling up the driveway, turning left up the hill the old way out of moms house working on this weird old machine that was part printing press part collator, in a place that was part shop part bar part video arcade. Mom was there asking about how the machine worked, sitting with some vaguely family people at a picnic table. I had two younger brothers. When I went back to finish my work (three-color, tight registration, very annoying), the place was all the way video arcade now, and this man, slightly stockier and shorter than i, faintly hispanic, touched my arm, stopped me, said, Name please? He said he could let me play but he was having to separate my brothers. Are my brothers fighting again? I asked. Actually I dont want to play, I want to work. My press had been converted by the addition of a front part into a pinball machine! As I was looking at that, the man pulled a gun out of his pocket, and explained to me that he wanted me to take it. He wanted me to pull the hammer back and see what happened. I gathered it was some sort of test to see how I handled it. So I pointed it away from us, and pulled the hammer back and held it. The gun made a faint whirring noise. Then the man said I should poke someone with it. Poke someone? Yeah, like come up to me and stick in my ribs like you were going to rob me or something. So I put my left arm across his back up by his neck, and poked the gun into the back of his guts with my right arm and said, Okay, give me all your whatever it is! We both chuckled a little, and he said, Okay. Why dont you come back tomorrow? Oh yeah? I said, pleased, Okay. It seemed that the guy who owned this place also owned a shooting range. I hoped he was doing some sort of training in a revolutionary vein. It was pretty exciting. I still had the gun though my right hand was getting a little sweaty. I tried holding it in my left. I tried holding it in a way that looked alert but not tense. Then I asked the man how to convert my machine back so I could finish my work.