The marriage between the rifling of the gun and project is challenging to find. Ammunition testing can take hours and lots of patience just to find a grouping to make you confident in your equipment. However, even the most tested barrels can have that one bullet, or pellet, that goes astray. Statistically, there may be an outlier of the ammunition that you just can't statistically test. To try an get the best shot every time, the shooter looks at the projectile before putting them in the chamber. Sometimes, one of those shots can look perfect, yet will be one of those outliers. Through suspicion and guts, we reject perfectly good shots because of a feeling we have towards them.
Here is a poem about the pellet that got rejected.
* * *
It’s the middle of the match,
I have shot countless of ten’s
I am on a roll
I am in the zone.
Then, you appear.
In the middle of hundreds of your cousins, you stand out.
The slight glistening in the light,
you’re the one that shines.
Perfection.
I pick you up, to check for any impurities.
None to be found.
The angles of the lead are exact,
there are no dings or scratches.
You are perfect, too perfect.
There is a vibe to this pellet,
An evil presence that creeps in.
Something is impure.
Something just won’t fly.
Like the sirens of the Odyssey,
You’re luring me in.
The sadistic form of this thing gives a false sense of security,
Fills you with arrogance, disguised as confidence.
I’ve been here before,
the perfect pellet that would propel me to the next stage.
But you never fly straight.
You aren’t what I think you are.
I have hundreds of other options,
seemly less appealing yet nevertheless better options.
Impure specimens that will somehow make their way to center.
Somehow.
But like holding the One Ring,
there’s a false sense of power with this perfect being.
Regardless of your power on my subconscious,
I am in control.
With my fingers,
I crush the perfect curves of the rim.
To make you impure,
You’ll never get sent downrange to Valhalla.
I’ve been here before,
I can move past this,
with the power invested in me,
I make thee unworthy for the entire world.
Even for a pistol shooter.
