I own a musket for self defense, since that’s what the Founding Fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house. “What the devil!?” As i grab my powerded wig and Kentucky Rifle. I blow a golf ball sized hole through tge first man, he’s dead on the spot. Now I draw my pistol on the second man, yet I miss him entirely because its smoothbore and nails and it hits the neighbors dog. I have to resort to the cannon mounted atop the stairs loaded with a grape shot, “Tally ho lads,” the grape shot shreds the two men in the blast, the sound of the extra shrapnel sets off car alarms. For the finale I affix bayonet and charge the last petrified rapscallion. He bleeds out waiting for the cops to arrive, because triangular bayonet wounds are immpossible to stich up. Just as the Founding Fathers intended