Owneth a musket f’r home defense, since yond’s what the founding fath’rs intend’d. Four ruffians breaketh into mine own house. “what the Flibbertigibbet?” as i grabeth mine own powd’r’d wig and kentucky rifle. Bloweth a golf ball siz’d hole through the first sir, that gent’s dead on the spoteth. Draweth mine own pistol on the second sir, misseth that gent entirely because t’s smoothb’re and nails the neighb’rs dog. I has’t to res’rt to the cannon mount’d at the top of the stairs load’d with grape shot, “tally ho lads” the grape shot shreds two men in the fie, the soundeth and extra shrapnel setteth off car alarms. Fixeth bayonet and chargeth the lasteth t’rrifi’d rapscallion. That gent bleeds out waiting on the police to arriveth since triangular bayonet wounds art impossible to stitcheth up. Just as the founding fath’rs intend’d.