A Violent History

Ok, so I come from a vaquero family.  I don't really know everything that my grandfather did in his younger days; but the fact that he died before I was even born and I  still managed to hear this story is a testament to how badass he was.  One time he went to the farmer's market, and some assholee drew a knife on him.
That, right there, is breaking a cardinal rule:  You never bring a knife to a gun fight.
My grandpa then drew his revolver and made the motherfucker dance, just like in the movies.
Many years later, his daughter, who was also my mother, married my father.  He cheated on her shamelessly.  Again, this was before I was even born; but one of my father's mistresses kept prank calling my mother going "I happen to be your husbands lover, blah, blah blah."  Eventually, my mother got pissed off.  My mother found out where the bitch lived (I only know this because one of my cousins was a witness to this), she went to her apartment, and instead of knocking on the door, my mother drew her revolver and filled the bitch's front door full of lead.  Then she yelled at the bitch:  "Next time you call me Imma fill YOU full of lead instead."  Within one month, bitch left the country.
I like to think that I've kept the tradition alive.  I will fuck an asshole up and ask questions later.  Enough said.
Funny thing is, I don't even use guns, generally.  If some asshole pulls a gun on me, I wrestle it away from him, and pistolwhip him with it.  I consider it very funny when I do that.  Seriously, I laugh my ass off afterwards.  I'm not only vaquero as fuck, I'm also ninja as fuck.