A bang went off. Ash had missed, by miles, and Fizz laughed.
"Yeah, all right. Shut up." Ash laughed too. "Like to see you do better."
"These rifles are weird," Fizz said. Without another thought, he picked his up from the counter. The weight and shape was all wrong, but still, he would make do. He held the rifle, keeping it straight even though it hurt his arms. "Sight's off," he muttered, squinting one eye. Aiming at the bottom can of the stack right in front of him, Fizz glanced above the sight-helper, readjusted his aim, and pressed the trigger. The pellet left the rifle with hardly any backfire or noise, and the tin cans toppled down like a stack of cards. Their tumble knocked down the stack next to them.
The stall holder's eyebrows shot up, as Ash gaped.
"Fizz, how did you hit th
