I'm still trying to envision a short, round, bald dwarf, jumping, jinking and dodging the bullets that fly her way. 
Weebuls wobble...
Oh, nads? Your husband the retired ANAV saw more live fire doing quals with his .45 than you could begin to imagine, and it wasn't that much, trust me.
I blew through more ammo in one weekend of duck or deer hunting than you ever heard going off in your miserable pathetic life. Shit, I had bottle rocket wars with the neighbor kids when I was 12 that would even now have you shitting in your pants.
Silly bint.