Non veni pacem mittere, sed gladium.
No white grips after Labor Day.
Black grips matter.
Dead on Sonoboy!
That sort of work takes a steady hand.
While I appreciate a finely engraved firearm, I'd never own one. I'm too paranoid about rust and would wind up constantly going over every single nook and cranny to make sure there aren't any tiny red spots blooming.
What a beauty! That's what they call a "barbecue gun," since you always wear your prettiest handgun when you go to a BBQ! (Then you try hard to make it look like you always wear it, and it ain't nothin' fancy.)