Goat Avenger

I asked Grandma if I could borrow her gun.

"Which one?" She responded.

"The really big one," I said, motioning to the gun rack above the dishwasher.

Grandma rolled her eyes and nodded. "You could at least learn their names before you take them out."

"Sorry, I wouldn't know the difference between a .22 and an uzi by name, I just know how to load, aim, and pull the trigger."

"Sandy, my girl, when I was your age..." She started on one of her infamous tales, "...neither did I. All I knew was that the sound of a gunshot was music to my ears. That rifle's name is Regina, and you take good care of her. I worked for weeks in the toothpaste factory to earn the money to buy her."

"Thanks, Grandma," I said, carefully lifting Regina from the rack. She was heavy, yet a beautiful shade of copper, and as shiny as my grandfather's bald head.

I walked outside to the shed, cradling Regina as I would my firstborn. I passed the goat pen and glared at the bloody chunks of fur and bone scattered in one corner. That little bastard. He would pay. You mess with my grandma's goats, you mess with me. And Regina.

I could hear the monster snarling and bumping around in the shed. His time drew nearer. I hoped that my thick leather armor would protect me in this battle. The little shit was going down big time.

After a moment of silence, with Regina resting on my shoulder, I flung open the shed. A gray mass of fur, fangs, and claws shot out at me, foaming and fussing. I squinted and fired. The recoil sent me tumbling backward. I hadn't expected her to ejaculate with such force!

My head spinning, I sat up. Then shrieked as a furry, pointy, and bloody beast leapt onto my chest, headed for the jugular. I swatted it away with Regina's butt, feeling the crack of metal on skull. The beast whimpered and made a beeline back into the shed.

The thing had nailed me. I'd have to drive to town and get my rabies shot, the little fucker. I wiped a thin trail of blood from my cheek and knelt, aiming Regina into the dark abyss of the shed.

I fired once, fired twice, fired again and again. Oh, it would pay. Blam. Blam. Bla-BOOM! Oh fuck. Smoke. Flames. Shed wall flying at my face.

I knelt forward and covered my head, a meat shield for Regina. She had done her part. Now I would do mine. I felt a thud against my arms and back and winced as a few splinters sunk in.

"What the hell is going on out here?" I heard Grandma yell as the screen door slammed. Then she gasped. Uh oh, I was in big trouble.

"Sandy!" She yelled, running towards me. "Oh Sandy, are you hurt? What happened?"

I pushed the old boards off and checked the damage. A few splinters and a scratched cheek and probably goodness-knows-how-many-evil-diseases, but I was alive. Regina lay on the grass, still shiny, though traces of gunpowder dirtied her muzzle. But we were ok.

Grandma ran over and helped me up. We looked at the burning pile of wood, metal, and blood where the shed used to be.

"Damn chupacabras," I said, surveying the scene.

"Didn't you know that's where I keep my extra gunpowder?" Grandma asked, laughing a little.

"I do now," I muttered. "You're not mad about the shed?"

"Oh, I am. You're going to be building me a new one this week, with new tools and everything, and you'll shine Regina and all her sisters too."

I sighed. This was going to be fun.