Down by the water, he's firing his pistols at...a high clay bank.

"Watcha doin'?" a passerby asks. "Seeing if you kin still hit the ground?"

"No. See those flies sittin' on that rail fence at the base of that clay bank?"

"Hmmm...you're missin' what yer shootin' at then."

"Nope," he says, squeezing off another shot with his left hand and then doing a Border Shift with the pistols and squeezing off another. "I ain't aimin' at the flies."

"Well then, what in thunderation ARE you doin'??"

"Ain't none of them flies ever gonna become daddies," he replied and cranked off another shot.