Shooting at paper targets in a venue copied exactly from an Olympic sport is "oblique, covert, hidden anger"? There was no anger there, naught but good cheer, mutual helpfulness, and camaraderie. I do not think that because I chose to use civil language and simple good manners means that I am disguising anything. I could indeed (and possibly in fact) tell you that your are a spit-licking, flea-infested, off-key singing wandering wastrel whose parents met only once (and then briefly) during the re-use of a leaky condom, but I shan't. I shall simply chide you on your poor attempt at psychoanalysis and assure myself that when you return home your mother will dash out from under the rusty AMC Gremlin that is up on blocks in your front yard and bite your tail.