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American Classics – The Second Amendment Series

By Distraught American

January 30, 2025

The Wizard of Oz

Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas Prairies with Uncle Henry, who owned a Rough Rider revolver that he kept in the waistband of his workpants, and Aunt Em, who had a pearl-handled Smith & Wesson Model 66 Combat pistol that Dorothy much admired and hoped someday to inherit and wished she had right now because right now she was facing off with the Wicked Witch of the West who was threatening the Scarecrow with a flaming broom.

Two loud reports “Blam! Blam!” came from behind, and the Wicked Witch of the West crumpled to the ground, revealing the Cowardly Lion, his Ruger Double-Action revolver clutched in his left paw, still smoking.

Dorothy grabbed a bucket full of water and tossed the water toward the broom. “No! No!” cried the Witch, raising her arms over her head as the water came arching down toward her. But it never reached her. Two loud reports “Blam! Blam!” came from behind, and the Wicked Witch of the West crumpled to the ground, revealing the Cowardly Lion, his Ruger Double-Action revolver clutched in his left paw, still smoking. “Aw shucks,” he said and fainted dead away.

Little Women

Jo was pacing back and forth in front of the fire, her father’s Springfield Model 1861 resting on her right shoulder.

“Jo! Your dress!” said Amy. She was vexed because she just knew the gun’s weight would flatten the bows Marmee had made out of bits of satin she had salvaged from the linings of Union Army jackets. And Amy had so carefully tied them on and now here was Jo going and ruining the line with a silly old gun. Jo really did not think about her clothes at all!

‘Oh, sisters! please don’t fight,” cried their own Little Beth… “I have Papa’s .38 right here beside me under the covers. Don’t make me use it!’

“You’re not allowed to touch Papa’s gun and you know it,” said Amy, putting her pretty hands on her pretty hips.

“I’m the man of the family now, with Papa away at war,” said Jo, facing Amy with her familiar obstinate expression. “So it’s only right that I get his gun.” It was heavy so she let the barrel rest on the rag rug that Marmee had woven out of the remnants of frocks that could no longer be respectfully worn.

“Oh, sisters! please don’t fight,” cried their own Little Beth from the couch where she lay, small and fever-bright under the blanket Marmee had stitched together just for her out of scraps of wool she had collected and hoarded. “I have Papa’s .38 right here beside me under the covers. Don’t make me use it.”

House of Mirth

Lily Bart stepped out of Gus’s apartment and pulled the door shut behind her. Though nothing had happened between them, Lucy knew what people would think seeing her coming from a man’s apartment in the middle of the afternoon.

‘When she came level with the odious char-woman, Lily raised her pistol and shot the woman through the temple at point-blank range.’

The odds were a thousand to one against her meeting anybody, but the odds were against her that day. A char-woman was scrubbing the stairs. She looked up as Lucy approached but didn’t step aside to let her pass. Lily gathered her skirts about her and slid past her. At one point, the hem brushed against the side of the bucket, sending shivers of repulsion that rustled her bustle.

When Lily reached the landing, she looked back. Why the creature was staring at her! Could a woman never have the simplest most harmless afternoon visit with a man without subjecting herself to some odious conjecture? And just who did she think she was, anyway? A char-woman! Judging Lily Bart! And what if she told someone? Oh no. No. Lily Bart was NOT about to become a bit of gossip for the working class. Didn’t she have enough trouble with the whole Gus and Grace mess already? Yes. Yes, she did. This would never do!

Lily reached into her reticule. She pulled out her Derringer, such a dainty pistol, and holding it in one gloved hand and gathering her skirts up with the other, ran back up the stairs.

When she came level with the odious char-woman, Lily raised her pistol and shot the woman through the temple at point-blank range.

When it comes to a woman’s reputation, Lily knows it never pays to take chances.

‘Tom has built up quite a little arsenal in the basement, haven’t you, darling?” said Daisy, winking.’

The Great Gatsby

“Tom has built up quite a little arsenal in the basement, haven’t you, darling?” said Daisy, winking.

“It’s been a labour of love,” said Tom.

“We have tons of supplies down there too,” Daisy continued. “Enough to last 25 years. Oh, what a long time away that is! I shall be quite old and unattractive then.” She turned to Tom. “Will you still love me?” she asked, pouting coquettishly.

Tom turned to me. “Would you like to see it?” he said.

And even though I don’t know a Cold Detective Special from a Colt Pocket Hammerless, I said, “Yes.”

Tom took my elbow. “I also have an original Winchester 1897 model,” he said, guiding me to the cellar door, “and a Browning A5 semiautomatic that is a beaut.”

‘We’d gone in to New York that morning for this shooting match with McBurney School. Only, we didn’t have the match. I left all the guns and ammo and stuff on the goddam subway.’

The Catcher in the Rye

The reason I was standing way up on Thomsen Hill, instead of down at the game, was because I’d just got back from New York with the shooting club. I was the goddam manager of the shooting club. Very big deal. We’d gone in to New York that morning for this shooting match with McBurney School. Only, we didn’t have the match. I left all the guns and ammo and stuff on the goddam subway.


Made possible by a generous donation to the President Donald J. Trump PAC for Making American Books Gunfilled Again (MABGA).

Feature image: Pixabay

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American avatarDistraught American is a political satirist who lives in the American midwest, where she is currently wondering about this: If, as he claims, Donald Trump did not lose the 2020 election, then it follows that he was president for two terms, right? The U.S. has a two-term limit for presidents. So why was Trump allowed to run?



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