Back by popular demand...

So the VI, as you all know, used to be pretty violent.  Not someone you would want to spend a Sunday watching TV with or have around small children.
When I was about 16 or 17 years old, he finally went to the doctor and found out he has a chemical imbalance.  He got on meds and has been pretty vegetablish since.
This is great for me, my monster, and anyone who comes in contact with him.
My monster is unhappy, but is greatful for a calmer home.  He does have his spurts of anger or freak outs, but they are few and far between. 
He has seemed to channel his anger and penchant for violence toward the poor squirrels in the backyard.
I wake up this morning and go downstairs to get breakfast.  He notices me and comes right back into the house from the porch all excited.
"Do you see that little bastard?"
"What little bastard?" *eye roll insert*
"The damn squirrel on the tree."

Now there is a small patch of woods behind the cave so this statement is completely vague.  I humor him.  I lean over the sink and stare out the window, but let my eyes go lazy.  I start to see things like one of the pictures with the hidden items in it.  In my mind, as he's talking, I'm trying to guess what shapes I see.

"No dad, I don't see any squirrel."
"What?! He's right there, upside down eating the friggen flowers off the tree."
I came to realize that the tree is actually a bush. 
"Oh, yea. I see him.  Sorry, I need new glasses."  Bold faced lie.
"I wanna shoot him in the ass with my gun!"
"Dad, don't shoot him."
"But he's eating the flowers!"
"So.  Let him.  If he gets sick he'll learn a lesson."  at this point I'm just laughing at him.
The thought of my father getting out his bb gun and actually trying to hit a moving target is hilarious.
This is a retired correctional officer who used to carry, and still has, a nice Smith & Wesson.  But age, deafness, and all around stupidity has all but rusted his shooting abilities.

Last year, my father brought out his bb gun to try and shoot holes in to my monster's bird houses hanging from random trees throughout the yard.  He challenged me.
He kept missing and I told him I wanted to try.
He laughed and said, "Hey honey, Melissa's gonna try and shoot your birdhouses.  Watch this.  I bet she shoots someone's window out."
The monster of course was not amused.
I took the gun, held my breathe, aimed, and shot 2 holes directly above and below the hole of one of the birdhouses.
I think the vi shit his pants a little.
I lowered the gun, turned toward him, handed it back, and walked away.
Yea old man, challenge me again.