“Is it an Uzi, Daddy?” asked

the nine-year-old.

“No, Darlin’, it’s just a really big lolli-

pop,

lollipop, ooh, lolli, lolli, lolli,

lollipop,

pop, pop…POP,”

he sang handing her the WMD,

and the instructor

just popped into eternity

as she held the trigger down

and the little girl will see blood

popping from

lollipops for as long as she lives,

assuming she gets help and

lives on for a while,

though doubtfully, or

maybe just until the NRA

bleeds out and

gives up the ghost, but we all know,

mercifully,

Jesus will return before then.