This thread is dedicated to crap that doesn't belong in the barrel of a shotgun. Or under the seat of a car... Or behind the wheel of the car... Or shoved in a magazine.... Or in an ammo can...
You guys get the drift. So post your story. What was it, where did you find it, what's the story behind it, and why was it so dumb to find it there in the first place?
I'll kick it off. This is going to be a long story. Why? Because I'm bored and its my thread. And I want it to be. If you don't want to read a long story go start a thread about Glock malfunctions or the terminal ballistics of cat poop when fired from a 20" barrel at 3000 FPS. Or whether a grizzly's jaw pressure is enough to induce a failure to feed in a 1911. Or whatever it is you smart people post about. Because this is a dumb story about dumb crap that dumb people did. It doesn't get much simpler. Or longer.
But along the way I will give you some insight into what goes through the mind of a deranged psychotic LEO at the end of a hellish work cycle in which he got absolutely NO sleep for 48 hours and very little sleep out to 60 hours. And you will figure out very quickly why I did not list the city or state I am from. (So you cant call the people on me. So don't bother trying to report me as psychologically unfit for duty. They probably already know this by now. And leave the IA people alone, they have enough to deal with without this crap.)
Police shotguns are normally not maintenanced well.
Let me rephrase that. At my agency, police shotguns are not maintenanced at all. When you cant keep your AC running, your tank is on E, the gas card doesnt want to work, and dispatch is calling you out for the 35th time tonight to help some old lady raise her prepubescent grandson who thinks he's next years white boy model of lil boosie.... Breaking down the office issue 870 thats spent its entire useful life banging around your cage is the last thing on your mind.
So recently the range staff called in all the shotguns for maintenance, probably for the first time in... Well...
So everybody turns in their shotguns and the armorers take them to the back. The next couple of weeks are our range in service classes. These are classes that spend all morning mostly covering the fact that we need more training. Yes. That's right. We are trained that we need training while we're at training. The evening is spent conducting as many worst case contorted shooting scenarios that the ex SWAT firearms instructors can come up with. (Mostly to make the non SWAT firearms instructors cringe at the possible safety violations.)
They cram us into tiny cars and make us shoot over the steering wheels at steel targets. They make moving silhouette targets that are on wheels and chase you across the range. They make you lie on your back and shoot at downrange targets from between your legs. They stick you in the shoot house and send six of their super secret squirrel current SWAT ex navy seal/army ranger/lawn gnome elimination squad role players in there armed with a simunition gun in each hand to remind us of the 3,000,000 ways that any "normal call" could turn into a scenario that would go horribly terribly irrevocably wrong and result in you being shot with 12 magazines full of simunitions rounds at the same time.
At the end of our in service, in the briefing room we find a pile of random objects. We think its weird but then they make us watch yet another youtube video of yet another police officer getting shot and dying in agony screaming on the radio, and five other youtube videos of police officers using excessive force on camera.
We understand sir. We need more training or we might be holding our guts in our hands on the side of the road, and then get mad about it and stand up and beat somebody's @$$ with one of our intestines. And God forbid if its caught on a cell phone camera because small intestine ninja whip is not listed on the use of force continuum as an intermediate weapon. So please tell us about all this trash sitting on ya'lls desk?
So we finally get our debriefing. This is when the range staff with all of their bright charisma....
...Ok I'm kidding. Firearms instructors do not have charisma. It all leaked out through hemorrhoids developed from their first few years of walking around constantly clenching their butt cheeks waiting to get shot in the face by an idiot rookie who doesn't know how to talk to you without his finger on the trigger.
After the first few years, once their personality and charisma has completely disappeared altogether, they are left with balls of steel and very tough butt cheeks. Nothing causes their stress level to rise any more. An atomic bomb could go off by their foot and they would simply cock their earpro slightly forward and say "shooter take your finger off the trigger."
The ones who do have charisma are all ex or current SWAT. They do not care. They have all been shot at on purpose and are still alive so they aren't worried about accidents. They are too busy cracking jokes and making you laugh while taking you apart with their eyeballs and figuring out easy ways to kill or purposefully maim you for life and justify it on paper through office policy.
But I digress. In the dry and factual manner that only range staff can deliver information in, they inform us that all these items came out of the barrels of our shotguns. They were met with shocked silence, a few snickers and a lot of "what the..........."
The first item I could understand. It was ink pens. This makes perfect sense. I buy ink pens by the bag. I have literally bought hundreds of thousands of ink pens in my career. If I make it 3 hours with the same ink pen in my pocket, I throw it out of the window on principle. Because ink pens disappear. It's what they do. They always do it at the sneakiest moments when some coworker is around to observe how unprepared you are and make a snide remark about "what kindof cop doesn't have an ink pen?" Now I know where they go hide. Secretly they all want to fight crime and embed themselves into bad guys at the speed of light. So they hide in shotgun barrels on their own volition.
The second item was a hamburger wrapper. A balled up hamburger wrapper. This one hacked me off. There is no way an entire hamburger wrapper gets balled up small enough to fit down a 12 gauge barrel on accident. Somebody ate a burger and was too fricking lazy to find a trash can and figured what the heck, I'll never use this shotgun anyway. Why would I ever need it? (Same kind of reasoning as the dead eye tough guys on here have when they tell me carrying an extra magazine or two is paranoid cuz statistically I probably won't need it. Fricking stupid.)
This is the kind of complacent crap that gets people killed when SHTF on a call. If somebody is lazy enough to stuff a hamburger wrapper in a shotgun barrel, they are lazy enough to cut other corners too. And my luck, I'll be the one holding the back end of a shotgun that just blew to pieces and wondering why there's tweety birds floating around my head.
Hamburger wrappers go in the trash. Or in the ash tray. Or on the floor. Or shoved up your @:&:&:. They go anywhere but the barrel of a long gun that I might potentially have to use.
The third object numbed my brain. I literally cannot remember anything else that happened after this or any of the other objects in the pile. Somehow sitting in the barrel of an 870 for the last God knows how many years, was a chicken wing. Or buffalo wing, or whatever you want to call it. A freaking piece of chicken! How the HELL do you get a piece of chicken INSIDE of the barrel of a shotgun? What were you DOING? Did you run out of buffalo sauce and decide to try powder residue as a seasoning agent? Did you lose the bag and decide the barrel of the long gun was a good place to save it for later? Did you mistake the red chicken wing for a shotgun shell on a hot call and chamber it on accident while performing a combat load? Was it a substitute for the pepper ball rounds fired from a shotgun? Did you intend on being prepared for a hostage situation in which the hostage taker demanded immediate delivery of 1 buffalo wild wing to release all 50 hostages and figure you might have to fire it through a plate glass window or over the top of a small building?
A CHICKEN WING?!?!?!?!
THAT CRAP DOES NOT BELONG IN THERE!
Ok I'm done.
So for those of you troopers who have made it to the end of this long psychologically disturbed ranting, was it worth it in the end? Did you laugh? More importantly, have you ever found some crap that should NEVER have been in the barrel of a weapon? (Or wherever else that it was and shouldn't have been)?
Now the cheeseburger wrapper I can understand. Just laziness. Why the barrel of a shotgun instead of the floor is probably anyone's guess.
But how the heck do you get a chicken wing and a pen in there?? It seems like those would have to be on purpose as well, but why?
Good story anyhow. I'd like to know what the rest of the pile consisted of. I've really never thought of odd items ending up in the barrel of a shotgun, or any gun for that matter. Especially one belonging to the police.
When I was somewhere around 5 or 6 years old I was staying at my aunt and uncles house. My uncle worked night shift at WalMart distribution so it was just my aunt and me there. Well sometime during the night their dogs start going crazy and when she went out to check on them she found a skunk walking thru their back yard. So being the good country wife that she was, she went and got my uncles 12ga out of their closet, and shot the skunk. When she pulled the trigger it looked like flaming snow coming out of the end of the barrel. After she killed it she came back inside and called my uncle to brag about what she had done. When she told him, he went completely silent. He asked her what gun she used and proceeded to cuss like a sailor when she told him it was the shotgun. Apparently he had been saving money up without her knowing, and figured the best hiding place was down the barrel of the old shotgun he never shot. So for several years after that we would always joke about the 1,000 dollar skunk.
Thanks for sharing.
That's ridiculous. My bet is the chicken wing and hamburger wrapper were a disgruntled partner who was pissed a his riding buddy one night, and thought "hey this is gonna be funny."
Kinda one of those redneck "hey hold my beer" moments.
DeltaF, great read. It's a slow night at work and I thoroughly enjoyed your rantings.
Nothing odd down the barrels of any of my guns..............yet.
I'm not totally sure if this counts, but I'll through it in anyways.
I was doing my BMQ over the summer, this one happened at the range. We were told that with a C7 (think M16A3) magazine being fully loaded (30rds) you might have to insert it and give it a tap then pull to make sure that its seated properly.
Everything was going good and we had some ammunition left over and well....you can't return what you check out of the armouries, so we were doing some drills. This one consisted of only loading 10rds in each of our five mags, no problem. After that we got told to grab our fire team partners (basically our bunk mate) and find a spot on the range.
Now keep in mind, at this point all of us have put probably 1,000 or more rounds down ranged with no real issues.
After getting there were told that what's going to happen in buddy A will fire off his first mag, yell either "STOPAGE!!" Or "RELOADING", take a knee and then buddy B would pop up, lay down suppressive fire so that those dang paper targets didn't get any ideas, and you'd go back and forth doing this. That was probably one of the coolest things I've ever done by the way. Nothing even comes close to hearing 20 C7s all firing away at once.....sounded like a battle was going on.
Anyways, me and my fire team partner are doing just fine, no hiccups. Then we hear a guy on the far end shout "STOPAGE", no biggie, keep on going. Then we hear one of the Sgts call the Warrant over, then we hear the Warrant call over the 2LT (<-RSO). Now we hear a cease fire and all get called over after clearing our weapons.
It turns out the guy on the end got a little to into the drill. He went through his first magazine with no issues, went to load his second magazine, hit the bolt release and nothing....it turns out he smacked the magazine so hard that he managed to jam in up into the rifle. The Sgt, Warrant and 2LT have never seen that happen before. It was literally so far in the mag well that the bolt was hitting the lower half of the feed lips and they couldn't pull it out with put removing it from the firing line.
I had a small snake crawl into the barrel of my 12 gauge once. We were out in BF egypt camping so I capt my shotgun right next to me just in case close enough to keep it warm, Well the next day were hiking and my brother in law tells me I have a snake in my gun. I was thinking he was just being stupid so I ignore him my sister starting talking about it so now I have to look so I shine my light down the barrel and sure enough theirs a tiny little snake looking at me. Ended up getting him out of there but it was pretty damn odd.
Another one was my buddy was looking down the barrel of his rifle with a bore light and there was something in there so he started trying to get it out with a cleaning rode, long story short someone was probably drunk because he had a pack of cigs in his barrel.
Regarding the snake, you did humanity a disservice by not just aiming your 12ga at a tree or something safe and firing off a round. That'd teach that damn snake to crawl not your barrel.
The Army's finest
Ok so here is mine:
Sometimes order and discipline can go right out the window when you are in a "reserve or Guard" unit. At no time was this more prevalent then in the 1980's.
During a "drill weekend" some regular pukes who had nothing better to do then vandalize equipment got into the motor pool & aircraft hangars of unsaid Aviation unit. All I have to say is it's very hard to clean condiments out of rocket tubes, as well as sugar in gas tanks...
Night ambush. M79 40mm grenade launcher. Been lying prone in the rain all evening. Dawn, no action. Going to switch out buckshot load for HE round. Open action, remove buckshot round, and damned if a little frog does not hop out of the breach of the 79! :eek:
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