You went to the training area and saw your uncle in front of you. Kyle. He smoked and apparently was waiting for you while you put on protective equipment. Hearing the rustle behind, he turned and sighed, extinguishing a cigarette on the ashtray.

"Took you long enough," he spoke, "Let's pick up the gun and stand in the rack, now we'll teach you how to shoot. Ever held the gun in your hands?" He continued, forcing you to stand closer to the table and give you a gun, not a real one, but especially for training.

You shook your head.

“Tch, well, of course. Your dad probably won’t even let you watch the horror movies?”, he chuckled as he corrected your posture. "Stand still. Relax. Relax, I said, otherwise your shoulder will plug off. Hah, just kidding, it will stop the gun from throwing you back when it'll shoot."