We had some cheap, cast pot-metal guns, where the left side of the faux cylinder pivoted 90 degrees CCW to expose a pin you mounted a roll of caps on. You then threaded the paper tape up through the back and under the hammer and the gun shot DA and ratcheted a new cap up every time you cocked the thing.
Only problem was the expended tape of caps would project up and obscure your view of the front sight. Not that I used them, but it was a bit unconvincing to have an appendage growing out of the top of the gun, so we always ripped them off discretely in the middle of a gunfight, like it never happened. Nobody sees.
My favorite though, didn't go "bang." It was a plastic squirt-gun, modeled after a High Standard Victor with a fluted barrel. It had the take-down projection in front of the trigger guard and the odd little "nicks" near the muzzle at 9:00 and 3:00 o'clock as well. It was a visually accurate representation and I loved the "feel" of that gun. I swore I'd have a real one someday, but never did.
I didn't put water in it, but I carried it on many covert missions in the back pasture and it got me out of a bunch of scrapes, usually with multiple adversaries. Once, I disabled a Soviet tank with it as the muzzle of its gun drew down on me. I waited 'til the last minute and put a (imaginary) round right up the spout of that T62's barrel and set off the HE round in the chamber, blowing the turret off and annihilating the the evil crew. MIGs were a bit tougher to hit, but once I learned how to put a magazine's-worth of lead up in the air about a quarter mile ahead of one, they started dropping like flies. Once, I hit one of the MIG's rockets and the MIG behind it caught the flak, so I counted that one as a "twofer." That was just ONE mission, when we moved to a new place in '70 and I had to secure the AO, roust the dirty b-words who were dug in and ready to do us in. There's a lot more to that story, but officially, I wasn't s'posed to have been there, so I've probably already said too much.
Once I broke that plastic pistol, I time-traveled to the medieval Baltics and fabricated broadswords from wood lath. I actually have scars to prove involvement THAT era. The "Indian Wars" preceded all this, but I was a casualty of that period - hatchet (rawhide mallet) to the left temple put me out cold and the powers on high (iron-fisted matriarchs) quashed the whole affair - permanently. Except they didn't know what they didn't need to know when we figured out how to make effective bows and arrows, and they have all eventually passed with never having known about those injuries, due to an unbreakable vow of silence between brothers.
I guess I never bought a real one, because I was afraid I'd be disappointed in its performance after the way that plastic one performed.
Only problem was the expended tape of caps would project up and obscure your view of the front sight. Not that I used them, but it was a bit unconvincing to have an appendage growing out of the top of the gun, so we always ripped them off discretely in the middle of a gunfight, like it never happened. Nobody sees.
My favorite though, didn't go "bang." It was a plastic squirt-gun, modeled after a High Standard Victor with a fluted barrel. It had the take-down projection in front of the trigger guard and the odd little "nicks" near the muzzle at 9:00 and 3:00 o'clock as well. It was a visually accurate representation and I loved the "feel" of that gun. I swore I'd have a real one someday, but never did.
I didn't put water in it, but I carried it on many covert missions in the back pasture and it got me out of a bunch of scrapes, usually with multiple adversaries. Once, I disabled a Soviet tank with it as the muzzle of its gun drew down on me. I waited 'til the last minute and put a (imaginary) round right up the spout of that T62's barrel and set off the HE round in the chamber, blowing the turret off and annihilating the the evil crew. MIGs were a bit tougher to hit, but once I learned how to put a magazine's-worth of lead up in the air about a quarter mile ahead of one, they started dropping like flies. Once, I hit one of the MIG's rockets and the MIG behind it caught the flak, so I counted that one as a "twofer." That was just ONE mission, when we moved to a new place in '70 and I had to secure the AO, roust the dirty b-words who were dug in and ready to do us in. There's a lot more to that story, but officially, I wasn't s'posed to have been there, so I've probably already said too much.
Once I broke that plastic pistol, I time-traveled to the medieval Baltics and fabricated broadswords from wood lath. I actually have scars to prove involvement THAT era. The "Indian Wars" preceded all this, but I was a casualty of that period - hatchet (rawhide mallet) to the left temple put me out cold and the powers on high (iron-fisted matriarchs) quashed the whole affair - permanently. Except they didn't know what they didn't need to know when we figured out how to make effective bows and arrows, and they have all eventually passed with never having known about those injuries, due to an unbreakable vow of silence between brothers.
I guess I never bought a real one, because I was afraid I'd be disappointed in its performance after the way that plastic one performed.
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