When I was growing up my mother forbade me and my brother from having toy guns lest we grow up to be card carrying members of the NRA, or even worse, hunters. I once asked her why she hated hunting so much since we regularly enjoyed meat products in our home and she confessed that it wasn’t the hunting that bothered her as much as the idea that we might actually bring home something that she’d have to clean.  Obviously she’d never seen me shoot and had disregarded my lack of desire to freeze my butt off while waiting for an animal to wander within three feet of me, which was my effective range of accuracy. 

Of course her toy gun ban simply caused us to continue a proud American tradition of turning any inanimate object into a weapon with which we proceeded to slaughter each other and our friends in continuous mock battles loosely predicated on our abyssmal knowledge of great American wars.  You can be sure that we would have given anything, and I mean years’ worth of 50 cent weekly allowances, to possess the rubber band gun featured below.  Heck we thought our Daniel Boone replica rubber band guns were cool, so this thing would have been revered.