This is one of those stories that make me whoop like a high-school varsity tool, just as any story would that involves a woman, empowered by a gun, commanding a burglar to put his face in the dirt or else lose his face entirely.

Such is the type of woman who feminists in decades gone by would draft as the poster child of their movement of independence and strength and equal protection under the law. Since feminism has been mutated into only a means to a Marxist society, however, and private gun ownership hinders that mutation, such a woman is no longer eligible to be the National Organization for Women’s Role Model of the Year (if such an annually bestowed title exists; I’m not sure because I don’t care about NOW).

Betty Collins had received an early-morning phone call from her boyfriend on his way to work, warning her to be wary of a suspicious-looking shirtless man in the neighborhood. Shortly before 5 a.m., a shirtless man began kicking Collins’ front door. She rushed downstairs towards the action instead of staying upstairs and cowering under the sheets. What gave her this courage?

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