Curse you and your deviant Nagant-pushing! Now I've got *another* caliber/mouth to feed! And it's the carbine, too, so I get to spend my waning years yelling "What?!" at relatives.
So not only have I recruited another person to the Mosin Militia, I've saved the future by ensuring there's another cranky deaf old fart to plague a family.
And I get to add "Deviant Nagant-Pusher" to my list of epithets!
My job here is done.