I’m Sorry, But Fuck Archery

I’ve been toying with the idea of being an assassin for a long time. Even before I could laugh because that word has ASS in it TWICE! That would be like if a guy who did accounting was called a Fuckfuckinistrator.

But lately I’ve noticed a lot of people using bows and arrows in movies. Like Hawkeye in the Avengers. Or the very capable and strong, independent hot babe from Hunger Games.

Oh, and do we all remember the comic book movie from a few years ago where THIS happened?

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A man who has been running around with assault rifles and rocket launchers decides to shoot people with a bow. Because why? Because he’s Daredevil! Or one of the Hulks! I can’t remember, but he was a guy and he switched to arrows.

Then, the other day I saw some guys doing an archery contest. They were dressed like they were going to play fucking golf. It’s them and golf guys who still wear visors. All the guys who wore those see-thru green visors died from tiparillo smoke long ago, so it’s just golf and archery guys now wearing bright white front parts of hats.

Anyway, I stole some asshole’s bow while he was fixing the collar on his salmon polo. Fuck that guy. Some Asian lady is sure to win the tournament anyway. They must still use bows and arrows to protect stores and stuff in China because I swear to god, every time I see one of these things on TV it’s always a slender Chinese lady kicking ass.

I picked my first target because he was a criminal of the lowest variety. I stalked him for days before I finally got a shot on him. Here’s my journal.

Day 1: Ready to take the shot. In perfect position. Unfortunately, target was in a car. Not very sure that an arrow can go through a car.

Day 2: Almost took the shot as target toured abandoned warehouse packed with vats containing weird chemicals. Decided not to because if I missed, he might fall into one of the vats and become a supervillain.

Day 3: Ready to take shot. In position. However, target was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood up, and I’m not entirely sure that an arrow can penetrate a cloth hood.

Anyway, after three days I gave up. Archery is for a man more patient than I am. And who doesn’t like punching. And without access to fire, which did a thorough job of burning both men and my shitty bow and arrow. Win-win endorsement for the combination of punching and fire, that old standby.