I was wiping down the Mrod this morning and found one minor scratch that had me strolling down memory lane. I brought the gun to my uncle's house a few states away. I remember letting him shoot it from his basement, out the sliding glass door. As he drew the gun on target, he braced it against the aluminum frame of the door and slowly scrrrraaaappped the air tube back until he was comfortable. I remember cringing just a little... God bless that man! I sure do miss him!
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