Sean Murphy is your average 38-year-old male living in Yorkshire, England. There’s nothing too different about Sean from anyone else, other than the fact that he had a wart on his left middle finger. Even still, there wasn’t anything particularly special about the wart. It wasn’t shaped like Jesus or the Virgin Mary, it did speak and tell Sean to kill people, and it didn’t turn out to be a second head growing out of his hand – it was simply a wart. But just like most warts, it was a nuisance. It was a bother. Sean complained that the wart on the first knuckle of the middle finger caused his finger to bend and look a little off. Sean went to doctors and their various prescription creams couldn’t banish the wart from his finger. While we can assume Sean certainly had the option to have the war surgically removed, he, for some reason, didn’t take that option.
No matter what he tried, the wart remained. So Sean took it upon himself to get rid of the wart with a clever home remedy he concocted. Sean realized the procedure he was about to perform on himself could cause some mild pain and discomfort – he was about to remove a small hunk of his own flesh, after all – so he applied a local anesthetic. That anesthetic was beer, and he applied it to every tissue, every cell in his body. After he was thoroughly anesthetized, Sean reached for his tool of choice. Rather than using a knife or maybe a hot coil of some sort to burn it away the manly way, Sean grabbed the 12-bore Beretta shotgun that he didn’t purchase, but rather found in some bushes near his home earlier this year, and decided to skip over Manly and head straight in to Ultra Manly Supreme.
Sean stretched his hand out on a table and carefully angled the barrel of the shotgun so that it would just barely nip the wart, removing it in one clean blast. Presumably after a few deep breaths, or, more realistically, after shouting a few psych-up phrases like “You can do this!” and “Ain’t no wart that can defeat MEEEEE!” Sean pulled the trigger.
A silence probably followed the concussive blast of the gun. When Sean looked at his finger, probably by slowly un-squinting his eyes and sneaking a peak between the slits of his tightly clenched eyelids, he noticed the wart – the wart that had plagued him for so long – was gone. He’d done it. He’d taken a high-powered weapon to his own finger and proved that he was, as they say in the word of video games, “surgical with the shotgun.”
And then he noticed that he had completely blown off his middle finger along with the wart.
Sean was soon arrested and charged for the illegal possession of a firearm. He has been fired from his job as a security guard and is facing jail time.
When asked about the failed medical procedure, Sean said, “I didn’t expect to lose my finger as well when I shot it, but the gun recoiled and that was it.”
Setting aside the fact that the recoil of a shotgun is a moot point when it’s physically touching the object it’s going to shoot, Sean has proved that a man that has been pushed to the edge and has nowhere else to turn when he needs to seek vengeance upon his transgressors, he will grab a shotgun and take matters in to his own hands, even if that means he has to blow apart his own hands with the shotgun to do it.