One night me and a couple of friend were out trying to poach deer all tweaked out. The guy in the back seat had a pump action .270 rifle and he was so spun he would jack all the shells through the chamber and then put them back in the clip and do it all again, over and over. And somehow it goes off, shooting a hole in the floorboard. So we stop and the guy runs off into the woods for some reason. I had a little cheapy Gen 1 nightscope, so we followed him, calling his name in these weird voices. He can see shit so he's tripping out and we're laughing our asses off, but then I realize he still has the rifle. So we hid behind a tree until we could get him to set the gun down.