Tell us about your fluke shots. The ones where you took a potshot at something moving too fast or from too far away and dropped it, to the astonishment of all and sundry, not least, you.
The only impressive fluke shot I can really lay claim to was the one where I'd been stung by a wasp just below the navel, and then a week later, was using a 22 pistol at the range.
I lined up on a steel plate, fired, and instantly was smacked right on top of the sting by the .22 slug. It had bounced back of the steel, hit me squarely on top of it, and fell onto the bench in front of me.
My eyes were watering too much to be impressed with my own brilliance at the time.
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