"It's heavy," he said, "so it works."
"It's sensitive," I say. "It ain't meant for whackin' people in the head. Plus, now I gotta gun-shaped bruise, and that's mostly gonna look tough, so it don't really work as an intimidation tactic."
He hit me again. I should pry be
(more) hurtin' more, but it's mostly wakin' me up.
"Here's the thing about small revolvers," I said. "Like that one."
"Old revolvers, like in the old West movies, the firing pin was on the end of the hammer. So if you pulled back the hammer, let it fall, gun'd go off. Newer ones, they got a complicated mechanism- honestly, I don't even understand it, but basically when you pull the trigger, the firing pin rotates into place, which the hammer then falls on. So even though with a revolver you got no problems with jammin', or misfirin', if you're rough at all with it, it's real damn easy to muss up the firing pin."
He aimed next to my head and pulled the trigger. The gun went off. After I gave that whole goddamn speech, too.
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