With my dad, I lied my hindquarters off, collected up every picture of KABOOMed ARs I could find, and labeled them DPMS, Bushy, Oly, etc. Being a former Naval Aviaitor and Trade School graduate (what I call the Naval Academy), I figured the chances he'd dirty his hands backchecking my work on a par with me getting kicked to death by a mule.
Parents told every single one of us, over the course of growing up, some galactic-level falsehoods for no better reason than to get us to behave or otherwise stop doing stupid crap because we were either incapable or too dumb at the time to listen to reason.
Turnabout is fair play.


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