Thank God for the Second Amendment.

I probably should be in bed right now, as I have a three-and-a-half hour trek to make tomorrow, but tonight made me think of a story that I have yet to share on this blog. And it does indeed involve Jacy (The other half of this blog. You probably don't know her because she never, ever writes on here. I've given up hope.)

Anyway, a few drinks with friends tonight (whose names will remain anon to protect the identity of my friends) and some storytelling made me think of my own story from long ago.

Picture it: Somewhere between Chambers and Ewing, Nebraska. 2003. Or was it 2004? Anyway, picture a wintery evening at the Schwager household. No parents. Just three daughters trying to survive in the blistery winter evening. Or was it spring? I really don't know. I'm an English major, so I'm taught to make shit up. (Some like to call it fiction.) However, this story really did happen. Parts of it anyway.

My ma and pa had left the ranch for a few days on a trip to Vegas, and had put my older sister, Gina, in charge of taking care of me and Jacy. If you really don't know anything about the dynamics of my family, just know this: We are the epitome of birth order. I'm the peace keeper, while Jacy and Gina fight all of the time. Well, they don't really fight too much anymore because they've both become more mature. ha. ha.

One particular night, while my parents were still away, Gina and Jacy lost it. I couldn't even tell you what the fight was even about. They were probably fighting over something stupid like who won Monopoly. For real. They're like that. But anywho, that's not the point. The point is that they frickin' lost it.

The fight began with words - lots of cunning spit-fire back and forth, back and forth. Gina and Jacy are the queens of the "last word." They could go on for hours just shouting something like"Pickles" as long as "Pickles" was the last word. The verbal fight continued for a while. I tried to distract them, but it was no use.

Eventually the verbal war turned into a full-out brawl. I know I said Gina and Jacy were good with words, but they may be much better with fists. They started hitting each other with little things first...dad's backscratcher...mom's flyswatter... you know, the norm. I'd interject with a, "For the sake of this family, please stop making fools out of yourselves," or, "Hey, I'll get you all a bowl of ice cream if you stop right now." Food always worked for me, but my offers were no use.

It wasn't until the two started picking up the kitchen chairs WWE-style that I came unglued. I honestly couldn't take the madness anymore, so I did what any normal and sane 15-year-old would do....

I grabbed Dad's rifle and aimed it at them. Then I probably said something along the lines of, "You best shut the f*ck up, mutha f*ckers or I will bust a cap in your @$$." (Chambers is full of gansters.)

Mind you, I didn't really have any intentions to shoot, but I guess the wild look in my eye proved differently. The two ya-hoos stopped fighting immediately and listened to every word that fell from my lips. Although Gina and Jacy still bicker quite a bit, I have never, ever seen them act so stupid again. To this day, I bet images of Dad's rifle still dance in their heads when they even think about fighting.

See, guns really don't kill people. They just make them shut the hell up.