Back in 1996 I was living in Arizona. Some of my friends and I were helping a lady move out of her apartment also occupied the two rudest, meanest, most despicable sons you could imagine (both adults). They were pissed off that their live-in maid and a source of money was leaving. They cursed us, threatened us, and then one went into another room with his pitbull and began riling up the dog threatening to release it on us.
I went to my truck, retrieved my S&W 411, put it on my hip, and then went back to work. Things got much quieter and we finished loading up her stuff and left. That is the one and only time I ever used a firearm in any "hostile" situation.
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