Wracked with both anger and a tiny bit of moral scruples, I decided not to shoot: an old battery charger and some plywood isn't worth a human life. We've all done dumb stuff, and that's not a crime typically handled by the death penalty. Now, if you're waiting for the part where the thief's accomplices in the truck leaned out with their own shotguns and took out my leg, well, that's not exactly how it went down. The truth is much, much dumber.
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You might get a concussion from how hard you're about to facepalm.
Repeating the license plate number of the truck to myself, I lowered the shotgun so it was aimed at the ground, then pulled out my iPhone to call 911 and let them know I'd been robbed again. I did not set the safety on the shotgun (this will become crucially important in a moment).
My phone and hands were damp and slippery with sweat, and as I dialed the second "1," the phone slipped from my hand. As I fumbled for it, I started to drop the shotgun, too. Now, Cracked has mentioned before that if you ever drop a loaded gun, let it drop. As in don't try to reach down and catch it, much less juggle it. Keep that little rule in mind, all you bipeds and rational types, because otherwise you will do what I did: clench your hand around whatever you can grab, which could very well be the trigger.
You may be getting a better picture of how this ends than I did at the time.
The gun went off. In an instant, an entire section of my leg above the ankle had been turned into (poorly) ground hamburger.
I was alone, in the country, with no family or neighbors on hand to help.