Think I told y'all this one before. When I was about 12 or 13, used to play "Captured Cowboy" with my buddy, Randy. I'd be wearing my cowboy-boots, jeans, & Texas belt-buckle that went up to my belly-button (this is Texas). My hands were tied behind my back (sister's jump-rope). He had a couple of wash-clothes tied over his front & backside, with red crayon Mark's on his cheeks. He would hold the ropes around my wrists with one hand and held a knife to my back as he walked me into the woods behind our block. When we were far enough in, he'd back me up against a tree. I'd be sweating. Sweat would be trickling down my lean body. He would step about ten yards back, and pick up his bow and arrow set (with the rubber tips). I'd stand tall, chest out, belly in, feet apart. He'd load an arrow into his bow, pull it back, and aim at my bare chest. I'd start breathing rapidly. He'd release the arrow and always hit me right at my left pec. I'd cry out and slam myself against the tree behind me. As I started to slide down the tree, to the ground, he would load another arrow into the bow and walk to where I lay on the dirt. As I writhed on the ground, he'd place the tip of the arrow right over my heart. He'd smile and shoot me right through my heart. I'd arch my back, and slowly weaken then lay still (dead) on the ground. He wound then place his ear to my chest, to be sure my heart was no longer beating.