The saga began with… an ammo shortage?

The smell of cordite filled the air. The gentle puffing of firearms in the background was a somewhat soothing sound. You see, the Blondest worked at a gun range. She had many passions.

Every now and then, a tall dark and handsome (dubbed Tall Dark and Ammo) mysterious man would appear. He would buy ammo from her. She could tell he was in the store because of his text tone; it sounded like a suppressed pistol going off. You know, like the sound of 007’s Walther PPK firing in GoldenEye — all nice and quiet. 

We didn’t know at the time, but we were both unapplied married.  There was an unexplainable ethereal connection between them though; there was something there. She always longed for him to come back so she could gaze into his deep brown eyes and feel a real man. 

 The Woodsman was on the hunt for the elusive ammo. This was back at the time when people loved to wear diapers on their faces and voluntarily stand a foolish six feet apart. Sigh.

There was only one place to really go that had ammo in the state: that range.

It was a local gun range, and for some magical or unknown reason they could keep you in certain freedom pills. Then there was the cute blonde that was always helpful at getting you what you needed. (Well only ammo at that time anyway).   

She was also very conducive to finding gun parts and magazines for an old man's mini Kimber that apparently — at the time — was almost impossible to find. It seemed obvious that she loved helping people. This endeared Woodsman.

The steady woodsman, ever faithful to his not so nice wife, pined (pun intended) to meet someone someday that could provide open communication and true love.

They each wanted a partner that would work through all trials and tribulations that appear in the fire swamps of life.