This was the moment I had been waiting for ever since I'd mustered up the courage to pop the question and had subsequently been flabberghasted that sh...'d actually said yes. But now that the moment was actually here, I actually felt weak in the knees. Ever since that "Yes!", I had felt invincible, like nothing in the world could stop me. Now, however, I suddenly began worrying that all this was too good to be true, that I was deluding myself, that somehow everyone had colluded to play a giant. 38-40 and a bolt-action .30-30. I liked the .38-40 for its stopping power and rate of fire, but I was a little concerned about its recoil. If the .30-30 worked out better, we could always get a lever-action version.The shotguns were a conundrum. There could be a lot of recoil expected from any of them, but which gave the best combination of recoil and stopping power? We would just have to test out the 12, 16 and 20 gauge. I wanted buckshot, no matter what.After the temperature started to fall a. After another wine, the idea of a bath appealed, taking the bag with her she started running the faucets and then opened the bag. Tara found there were 3 boxes and the first one out was embossed with a fairy light.Intrigued, she opened it and found a series of small lights with the instructions to place them around her bath. Also there was a small vial of bubble bath lotion. The lotion smelt lovely so she poured some into the bath. Suddenly, she thought I will put the lights up, making her feel. Oh wait; we can't let them see us calling her; someone may compare notes and realize the times match up. New plan, I'm putting Christine to sleep, lose these assholes."The light turned green and the race was on. As Christine slumped in the seat next to me I floored the gas and burned a thousand miles off my rear tires as I charged into the intersection, then spun the wheel — cutting off the two lanes of traffic on my left — and made the long u-turn back the other way. My would-be tail was now.