There was once a country enmeshed in a great civil war, and a young man who was enlisted to fight on his family's side. When he went to join the army, he was disappointed to find he was given only a small brown stick. He looked at it and asked "What can I do with this?"
Soon afterward he found himself on a field of battle. He looked up and a group of the enemy were charging towards him, threatening, violent. He looked down at the small brown stick in his hands and he was afraid. He knew he was going to die. But just as he gave up hope, his sergeant yelled out to him. "Point it at the enemy and say Bang."
The enemy was close and he could see their wild eyes. So, nervously, he did as he was told.
"Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang." He pointed the stick at the enemy, and one by one the enemy fell down, dead on the ground.
The young man's heart was beating very fast, and he was glad to be alive. "Maybe this stick isn't so bad after all," he thought.
He quickly grew accustomed to the stick, and wandered through the war, killing the enemy wherever he found them.
"Bang. Bang." he would say, pointing at the enemy. They fell to the ground and he became a hero.
One day, almost a year later, he found himself at the top of a hill, looking down into a valley. At the bottom of the hill he saw an unusual enemy, a fat man riding a tricycle, pedaling madly towards him. The young man grinned as the fat man kept pedaling, sweaty, until he was halfway up the hill.
"Bang." the young man said finally, pointing his stick at the odd looking enemy. But nothing happened.
The tricycle came closer and closer. "Bang. Bang." the young man said once more, with feeling. But still nothing happened. Soon the fat enemy was at his throat.
"BangBangBangBangBang" he shouted, but still nothing happened and the tricycle ran him down. As he took his last breath, he could hear the fat man saying, "Tank-a-Tank-a-Tank-a . . . "
