Long, long ago, in a hunting cabin far, far away, a group of rebel hunters stashed their weapons, all enhanced with the technical readouts of the Bushnell Rifle Scopes atop their weapons. There was only one thing that could stop their hunting mission, and that was the dreaded Darth Realworld.
The hairy Chewy brushed cracker crumbs out of his bushy red beard and he settled in front of the fire. “You guys should have gotten the Dead On Accurate ™ (DOA) Rifle Scope, I tell you,” he howled, pointing out back to where his dear was hanging. “I put those antlers into the Rack Bracket reticle, and I knew I had my big buck. Arranaghu.” He howled as Hans pushed in, his coffee sloshing.
Hans said, “Settle down, buddy, my Bushnell Elite 6500 gave superior imaging, even in that rain shower we got this morning. You can’t think my deer’s not big enough.” He pointed to the next tree over, which also had a deer swinging from it.
“Ha,” Matt Groundrunner broke in as he pulled off his lucky hunting cap. “We’re going to have to watch out for bears, we’ve got so many deer hanging.” His deer had fallen to the powers of Matt’s Trophy XLT Riflescope. “The Butler Creek flip-up caps kept my lenses clear in that rain.”
“Just think,” Hans broke in. “It’s a good think that Seejoe wasn’t here. He’d have used his Videoscope, mounted above his Banner riflescope to record his deer hunt, and made us watch it over and over.”
“Yeah,” laughed Matt, “and all the while complaining that it was all our fault that he hadn’t bought the Tactical scope instead.”
The last of the brave group, Ando walked in on the guys from the back room. He had his rifle slung over his shoulder, mounted with a Yardage Pro Riflescope. He was always talking about how it was the best Bushnell riflescope because it combined a laser rangefinder with a bullet drop compensator. He glanced at the deer hanging in the trees. “Those are nothing compared to what I heard this morning, walking past Oda’s house.”
“I’m sure,” Hans muttered into his coffee. “What was it, Ando?”
Ando frowned, “I’m not sure that you want to know. We should stick to the hunt.”
Just then, a knock sounded on the door.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” muttered Matt.
Ando opened the door. There, standing on the porch was a small man with a slight greenish tinge to his long ears holding a .22 rifle. He brushed wispy white hair out of his face and switched his gun to his side. “I got two birds with my .22 today, thanks to my Bushnell .22 Rimfire riflescope,” he cackled. “Got any coffee?”
“Sure, come in,” Matt said graciously.
“Don’t let him in,” Ando warned. The little old man shuffled in and put up his feet by the fire.
“What do you want, Oda?” Hans asked the man while Chewy growled.
The little old man smiled. “Darth Realworld is calling.” He pulled out cell phones for all the hunting buddies. “I couldn’t keep track of your messages anymore.”
“Give them to me,” Hans said, taking the phones. He tossed them out the window and grabbed another weapon, this one with a Bushnell Red Dot Riflescope on top. He brought the dot on the phones and fired. The phones exploded with the precision of his shot. Hans had saved the universe.