Hangin' with Oleg: the dramatic conclusion!

Let's see, where was I?  It feels like it's been forever since I last talked about this.

Aha! Yes! It was Sunday, and Oleg and I were meeting another friend & business associate of his: Harry Perrette, from Twisted Industries Inc.  TI is actually two businesses in one -- Twisted Industries is a machine shop that does specialty work, while right next door is Twisted Industries East Coast Customs, which does... some kind of car thing, I'm not exactly sure. Painting and body work, I would guess.

Anyway, we were there to look at a .22 caliber conversion kit that Harry had made for the Kel-Tec PF9. (This kit will be the subject of a funny story later in the post.)  While Oleg photographed the kit and magazines, I chatted with Harry while eating some donuts he had brought for breakfast.  I am a cheap date -- bring me sugary food and I'll be your friend.

After that, we piled in our separate vehicles and convoyed to Harry's house out in the country. How far out in the country, you ask?  Well, the road in front of his house was unpaved, and we were going to shoot guns in his backyard.

It turns out that Harry's birthday had been on Halloween, and his wife had bought him a bleeding zombie target. However, it had been late to arrive, but that was fortunate for us because that meant we (Harry's friends, Oleg, and myself) were able to have a good old zombie firing line!

When we arrived, there was already a table laden with guns of different models and calibers, like a ballistic Thanksgiving was being celebrated -- which, in a way, it was. I unpacked all the guns I had brought (Mosin-Nagant, .22 rifle, Mossberg 500, and Kel-Tec Sub-2000) and added them to the growing cornucopia. This was the moment when, upon seeing my sporterized Mosin, Oleg made his now-famous comment that "The sleep of reason produces monsters."

Then he photographed the heck out of it, which I took as a compliment.

 What was neat about this particular gathering is that most of the folks there were either current or former Kel-Tec employees. This meant I got to play with a lot of cool things, including the KSG and the SU-16A. And, of course, the PF9 with .22 conversion, which means that it's time for that story I promised earlier.

Things I can't believe I said in front of real people, #256:
While we were at the staging area, Harry handed me a PF9 in .22 and said "Hey, check this out." I accept said gun and ask -- in front of GOD AND EVERYONE -- "Can I fire this? Or did you just want me to finger-fuck it?"

o_O

For those who don't speak gunnie, what I meant was, "Did you want me just to admire the feel and operation of the gun as I racked the slide and dry-fired it?" You can see why I went the pithier route.

I swear, you can't take me anywhere, because I SAY SHIT LIKE THIS. It took me hours to realize "Hey, Erin, you might not ought to have said that..."  Fortunately, the boys knew what I meant and did not seem fazed by it in the least, but wow did I feel like a crass dope afterwards.

But first, we needed to let the birthday boy shoot his zombie target, so we all lined up like a firing squad and allowed him first crack at it using his own Kel-Tec RFB. I believe Harry painted his rifle himself.

He shot a few rounds, and then said "What are y'all waiting for?" and then we all joined in.

I'll say this about that zombie target: she was tough. We shot her with .308, .22, 5.56, 12 gauge, 7.62... towards the end she was looking quite gruesome, and most of her boobs had been shot away by gunfire, leaving just the bleeding paintballs behind like some kind of demented silicone enhancement. We had been shooting for a few hours when a couple deputies showed up unexpectedly.

It was a weird moment for me. There were easily a half-dozen of us, all armed, shooting a bleeding zombie target, when I heard voices behind me and saw the police walking up. I swear, my first reaction was "Oh shit, I do not have time to go to jail right now," despite the fact that I knew what we were doing was legal (we were on private property, outside of city limits, and shooting out into a marsh).
 
I shouldn't have worried; they were calm and polite and just doing their due diligence. They said "Some folks on a nearby trail heard some gunshots, we just wanted to check to see if everything is okay." They didn't have a problem with us shooting, although if we had been unsafe that might have been different.

In true gunnie fashion, we invited them to shoot with us. They said "Nope, we have to account for our ammo." We said "Don't worry, we have PLENTY!"  They laughed -- I like to think they were sorely tempted -- but politely declined and went on their way.

Some quick thoughts on the fun things I got to shoot:

• The SU-16 has far more recoil than I am used to from a .223/5.56. Not sure if it was because this was an early model, or if the cartridge was chambered hot, or something else. While I liked the fact that the barrel shroud can turn into a bipod, the plastic felt thin. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against polymer guns -- I own both a Glock and a Kel-Tec Sub-2000 in polymer -- but both of mine have enough thickness that they feel sturdy. This one felt, for lack of a better word, flimsy.  I would very much like to test a later SU model, perhaps a CA, so I can compare and contrast the two.
• On the other hand, I adored everything about the KSG. It looks and feels like something from Aliens and its bullpup design means it fits my short arms easily.  I also won the covetous compliment from Oleg of  "Being the first person to properly transition from tube #1 to #2 without fumbling or jamming."  This surprised me because it felt 100% natural to my body. My God, I want this gun SO MUCH. 
• The PF9 in .22 is a very fun, very accurate pistol, and I put several magazines worth of rimfire into the zombie target. Due to the size of the gun recoil was snappy, such that I don't know if I could manage it at 9mm.

After that, it was time for the Tannerite, which we put in the zombie's chest between the oozing, bleeding fake boobs. Once again,  we let Harry have the honors:





 It was a glorious zombie execution, made more so by the fact that the remnants of hair and hat that were left handing in the trees looked like strips of flesh.


After that, there was some general hanging out/ BSing/ picture taking, and then we left. Oleg bought me lunch, and then he went to the airport and I drove home.

And that's the story of how I met Oleg Volk.