It was a joke people, for God sakes. Any one would know that after three rounds in the body cavity, much less 6, 12, or the actual 18 fired ("Always count your rounds"), no kid would know whether it was a good group or not; the father was just shooting 'till the quivering stopped.

But it does point up an aspect of Southerners that is not often remarked upon.

Last fall I was taking a bunch of my Job Corps students (who come from "Philly", "DC" and "B-more") to pick up some ponchos at a local sporting goods store here in West Virginia. And they were hooting and hollering as we drove up in the van, with the hip-hop/rap blaring out of the radio as I pulled up. As they got out of the van, there was an archery hunting range set up a short distance from the parking lot and a man and his son, both dressed in hunting attire, were taking turns shooting at a plastic deer target some 40 yards away.

My kids were making loud comments about "Robbing Hood" and "Gangstas" as we moved toward the store. We stopped and watched as the father silently put an arrow through the heart of the target, then my students went dead silent as the boy, perhaps 12, put his arrow a couple of inches away from his fathers. This went on for several rounds, with nary a miss.

I turned to my kids and said, "Laugh if you want to, but if that boy ever comes for you, your closest friend will only heard the fart when you die".

My kids thought it over for a minute, then one of them said "Man, it's cold out here", and we went into the store...