Originally Written For: English Assignment, 1/6/00
Rating: PG, for someone getting shot in the butt with a sting dart,
but nothing more
I give it: *****(5 stars!!!)
Type: Short Story, really happened


		STING DARTS, and SMALL CHILDREN,
			Simply, DO NOT MIX!!!
		
		BY: Seckura (a.k.a Secura) 			



Way back, seven years ago, when I was five years old, I
learnt one of those really important lessons that you learn
only once in your entire life, but never forget, no matter
how long you live. I learnt, that, when you pull the little
trigger on a sting dart gun, that a little sting dart comes out,
and hits whatever the gun was pointing at.
	You may not think of this as a really important lesson,
and it very well may not be, but it’s certainly a lesson I will
never forget. You see, while my dad and I were visiting my
Uncle Harry’s farm, I was looking at the really big, BIG
birds called, ‘Emus,’ that he raises. After awhile I got bored
with watching the big birds run laps back and forth, back
and forth, in their pen. So, I decided that I was going to go
look for something a little more interesting to do, or see. 
	I walked awhile around the farm, and then, I saw my
Uncle Harry teaching his son how to shoot a dart gun. I
watched, amazed, as the young boy held up a little black
gun, pulled the trigger, and then something shinny flew out
of the end that wasn’t facing him. That something abruptly
came to a stop, when it hit a large circle, which had brightly
colored circles painted on it. The circles slowly became
smaller, and smaller, until they became one large, black dot
in the middle.
	"Very good, Jimmy!" my uncle proclaimed. "Now, I
have a very special type of dart to show you," my uncle
picked up a little box, and showed it to Jimmy. Inside, I
glimpsed about 10 metallic little objects that glistened in
the light of the sun. "These Jimmy, these, are ‘Sting Darts.’"

	"What do they do, Papa?" the little boy asked.
	"Well, Jimmy," My uncle took the little gun from
Jimmy, then, he put a, ‘Sting Dart,’ in the gun, and handed
it back to Jimmy.
	"Sting Darts can be used to stun animals temporarily,
just for a moment, so that you can put a also around them,"
my uncle stated as he put the box down on the ground, then
he and Jimmy walked away, "Sting Darts,"  my uncle’s
words flitted back towards me, "can be very, very,
dangerous..." then, Jimmy and my uncle were out of ear
shot. 
	I walked towards the place where my uncle had laid
down the box which contained the strange new item. I
picked it up, and looked at it very closely, then, I opened
the lid, and peered inside. Inside the box, lay about ten
shinny silver objects, at one end there were what looked
like plastic feathers glued to them, and at the other end,
they were sharply pointed. They were shinny, and glinted in
the sun. 
	"Sting Darts." I said in awe, I tasted the word. I ran 
my finger down one of the small, pointed objects, "Sting
Darts." I said again, more confidently this time. 
	Then, still holding the box, I looked around, no one
seemed to be nearby. Then, I happened to glance back
down at my feet, and saw the little black gun Jimmy had
been using. 
	‘Jimmy must have dropped it...’ I thought. I sat down
the box, and picked up my new interest, the little black gun.
I held the little gun delicately in my hands, delicately as if it
were some lost jewel, which I had seen for the first time in
my life, and, in a sense, it was. 
	Then, I picked up the gun, and, imitating Jimmy, I
walked around awhile, pretending to shoot the little black
gun. 
	Then, I spotted my father, who was talking to my
uncle and had his back towards me.  I was so happy to see
my father, that I forgot about the little gun I was holding,
and ran towards him.
	"DADDY!!!" I called happily as I ran towards him,
then, horror of horrors, I tripped, and as I feel down, my
finger pulled the little trigger on the gun, and the dart flew
out straight towards my father. Then, I landed face down on
the ground.
	I heard a loud, disgruntled yell come from my father,
as my uncle exclaimed,
	"What the...!?!?" 
	I looked up from where I had fallen, and saw that the
dart had hit my father, right in the butt!
	My uncle started laughing hysterically, "Your kid’s
got a pretty good aim!"
	I immediately had a large string of emotions run
through me, I was scared, ‘Is my dad okay?’ I couldn’t help
but think, ‘Did I kill him?’ I was also scared that he’d
punish me, and I felt sorry for what I had done, but on top
of that, the situation seemed inexplicably funny, and I
choked back a giggle or two.
	Then, my uncle led my dad back into the house, where
they removed the dart, and my dad was so angry at my
uncle for, ‘letting little kids that didn’t know any better,’
get their hands on dart guns, that he forgot to punish me.
Plus, I learnt a very important lesson, ‘Little kids and sting
darts, DO NOT mix.’ 
	So, I suppose you could say that everything turned out
pretty good in the end. 
	(Accept for my dad, who found it slightly
uncomfortable to sit for a few days...)