Assault Weapon Pre-Purchase Screening Form

My right to make this purchase is guaranteed by God, the founding fathers and the ghost of Charlton Heston, and if the law says any psycho off the street is allowed to buy an assault weapon, that means I get one too.

This firearm will only be used for the purpose of owning the libs, even though I've never met a liberal, except for my brother-in-law who's actually pretty cool, I guess.

I think I more-or-less understand the difference between a conscious human being and an NPC in “Call of Duty.”

Though this weapon makes me look tough, I'm actually such a wuss that I'm threatened by the very notion of any lifestyle that isn't confined to the limited borders of my comfort zone.

The thought of wielding this firearm makes me feel like an action hero, even though pretty much every movie about vigilante justice ends with the message that a real hero is one who is brave enough to end the cycle of violence.

This assault weapon is not outlawed because then only outlaws would own guns, and I'm not an outlaw and getting a gun should be super easy for everyone, including outlaws, because the easier it is to get guns, the easier it is to kill people with guns (but not schoolkids) because the more guns we have, the safer we'll be from gun violence which is why I shouldn't even have to fill out this form, because I'm totally not a psychopath, I just want a gun because I want to prevent gun deaths by killing people using my gun, because more guns on the street means fewer gun deaths, obviously. Stupid lib-tards.

I acknowledge that this purchase is a knee-jerk substitute for an actual understanding of a changing world which often conflicts with an upbringing that taught me that compassion and empathy are a sign of weakness, and if I have to be this way, why are other people allowed to have feelings?

I understand that what I really need, more than this firearm, is a good cry on the shoulder of someone who understands my pain, but that would leave me vulnerable to my inner demons of sexual inadequacy, so I'd rather just make this purchase.

Just because my father and I bonded over guns when I was a kid, this purchase is in no way a substitute for the genuine support and affection he has always withheld under the guise of 'toughening me up for the real world.'

Though this firearm is large, it is in no way a substitute for what Sally Whitman once called a 'tiny widdle wee-wee' when she caught me peeing in the hedges during recess.

When I wield this firearm, I actually become more dangerous to society than the forces which I perceive to be a threat to my livelihood, most of which are imaginary projections of my own insecurity.

Blasting this thing at an inanimate target may feel therapeutic, but until I unleash its power on the innocent, the world will never understand my true power. But I wouldn’t do that. Promise.

The fact that I'm even considering the purchase of an assault weapon is a sign of my mental instability, but when people see me holding it, they'll be too scared of me to probe into the specifics of my childhood trauma.

I understand that the frightened child who threatens my sense of power is cowering within my blackened soul, and is not an actual child in a school room.

My name, which will soon become synonymous with vengeance

Twitter handle where I post my unhinged ramblings

Nickname I was once taunted with by kids who will soon rue the day.