There is no bad form in the cellar. My sig line varies and usually features a qoute from one or more of my many cellar crushes, nearly all female. ;)

Hunting and stopped to shoot an animal. Leaned gun against tree and moved to where animal was downed several hundred yds away. Broke ankle, tripped and hit head, bitten by snake, gila monster, attacked by puma also hunting said animal, animal in death throws cuts brachial artery and guy bleeds out, dies of exposure, freezes to death, poison whatever. Body consumed, horse runs away.

Stops on a long journey, tired hungry, thirsty, disoriented. Stops and rests, is distracted when time to leave and doesn’t realize gun is left until 100 miles later, can’t go back.

Hides gun temporarily with intent to return to it and is taken prisoner, shot by Indians, lawmen, or the like who are unaware that it is there.
Stops to rest and freezes to death under the tree. Body dragged away.

Leaves gun for someone who is following but that person never makes it.

Hunter is camped in the wilds, enjoying the stars and coyote's call.
Vito rides up on a double wide Clydesdale and says, "This is Big Tony's turf, move along.
Hunter says, "OK, I just have to grab my bedroll and rifle".
Vito says menacingly, "Fugetaboutit".
So Hunter did.

[aside] FWIW I think Fudge3's quote is hilarious and -given that it's a signature line- it's not supposed to be pertinent to anything other than fudge3. [/aside]

Rifle bearer was abducted by aliens - X Files.

Rifle bearer ran out of ammo, rifle no longer made weight cut - abandoned.

Rifle bearer had no military training, never stray away from your rifle - careless.

Rifle bearer didn't want to get caught with stolen rifle, person who finds it gets blamed - clever.

Rifle bearer leaves impromptu memorial to fallen friend, the animals have got to eat too - good buddy.

Rifle bearer set rifle down to take a shit, crawled several feet away in an attempt to get help - died like Elvis.

Rifle-bearer file through a hole in time/stepped into the Tardis

Oh, is this really a thing? LOL

Context, my good man, context.

Don't worry, some day Mr Foot will exchange sig lines and you'll be the only one using that horrendous term in this thread.

Cheers. :)

Yeah, I was going to have the Doctor borrowing the rifle; but, returning only after the owner's demise like his final return to Madame de Pompadour, The Girl in the Fireplace. Too much of a niche though so I went with the X Files. :D

A group of would-be-settlers sent out a scout to explore the environs. He was met by a native tribe wanting to trade a rifle for the whiskey in his hip flask. He said "over my dead body" So they thanked him for the recipe, shot him with the rifle, and took away his body and hip flask. But they left the rifle because they were not dishonest.

Being before "signature required" tags, Pony Express rider delivered the rifle to the wrong tree. Intended recipient was pissed.


Rifle turned out to be made like an M-16, misfired once too often, abandoned in disgust.

An attractive mystery woman showed up at this guy's location and said "Honey, put down that long arm and raise up your short arm." As he was unbuttoning his trousers, she fatally stabbed him and took his money. Not wanting to get caught in possession of identifiable belongings, she left the rest behind. Tales of similar occurrences in the region refer to the woman only as Clementine's little sister.

His pappy told him the facts of life.

Put your gun in the hole in her bush, Jiggle it about and it'll go off by itself. Not able to live with the shame of his gun not firing, he walked away, never to return.

(have we truly reached the cellar now?)

Drunk cowboy sets his rifle down to take a dump. Pulls his britches up and continues on his journey. After 5 minutes, realizes he's forgotten something, but all those damn trees look the same, and none of them look familiar. He spends half a day looking for it, and gives up because he's getting hungry and has to head back to camp.