This reminds me of a recent shooting trip with my dad and granddad. It's the only time I've ever been shooting with my granddad. He's told me stories all my life about how much of a crack shot he is, and all this other bullshit.
Now I'm not bad at all myself, and my dad is pro as all hell. So we go out with a bunch of guns. I just got a .38 special derringer I wanted to try, I have my .22 rifle, and .308 AR 10. My dad takes his 10mm and .38 revolver, and my grandad brings a variety of guns, including a 9mm ruger.
After we've each taken a few turns, I've already realized that my granddad sucks. I'm sinking bullseyes at 30 yards with my dad's 10, while my granddad can't even hit the target paper at all at 10 yards with his 9. Fucking pathetic. Ordinarily, I wouldn't think so, but for someone who is always bragging... yeah, fucking pathetic.
So I'm getting ready to take some shots at the 100 yard target with my .22, with my dad and grandad standing behind me, when I suddenly hear "Woah!" right behind me.
I turn to look at what my dad is yelling about, and here my granddad is, with his 9 loaded, safety off, finger on the fucking trigger, and one in the chamber, examining his gun, carelessly waving it around, and pointing it right at me and my dad. It took every bit of willpower I had to not immediately punch him right in the mouth.
Thankfully my dad managed to convey the danger to my grandad before the fucking moron managed to shoot either of us.
I ended up getting 3 bullseyes in a row with my .22 at 100 yards, and this is after several years of not shooting. My grandad couldn't believe it.
Suffice it to say, I now know that my granddad is as full of shit as anyone I've ever met.