I am clinging behind my buddy who is going like a bat down a logging road with manny rut-filled, whoop-de-does on a Honda 90.
A ground squirrel breaks cover about forty-five yards in front of us crossing from right to left.
Scoped T- bolt .22 held in left hand over my buddy's left shoulder while right hand and arm are trying to hold onto buddy to keep from being ejected from back of the bouncing bike.
Left eye to the scope.
Squirrel enters field of view.
Meat-computer pulls the trigger.
Squirrel does summersault with a hollow-point through the left ear.
Mu-shin.