A big, bad, beautiful blue… pistol.

As is so often the case I got the call on a Friday at work. The grandmother in room two had a social disease, the toddler in three had shoved an aquarium rock up his nose, and Mrs. Morrison in four was convinced she had passed a snake in her bowel movement (“It was two feet long with a head and two eyes!”). The call from the President was a welcome respite.

Source: The CZ Shadow 2 OR