I forgot I posted this here.
At the time, I had a girlfriend living here. She was in the dining room, at the table, working on some kind of hippy art thing. She stood up and walked towards the sink right about the time I hit anchor.
Freaked my **** out, and the string was already heading towards brace.
Then the arrow went through the wall.....
Two weeks later, she put a bookshelf on the exit side of that wall. With windchimes hanging off the top somehow. Hippies are great at stacking and hanging things off of other things (next time you see a kayak, bicycle, and Thule rack on a Subaru, look for dreadlocks and Grateful Dead tattoos) Anyhow, there was about a 5" slot between the windchimes, bookshelf, and if I stood on the far end of the back of the trialer crapper, there was about a 3" slot all the way down the trailer to my block target 20 yards away.
Well, I had a few beers in me on a Saturday, and thought to myself "I can make that shot..." I hit anchor, heard the front door start to open (seriously in the line of fire) and sure as hell... SHOT THE WINDCHIMES!!! Her poor cat Odie jumped 6' in the air and then ran two laps around the front room before he was hunkered down on all 4's hyperventilating, and thanking Jesus that the big spooky monster didn't eat him whole. Poor kitty never took a nap in the front room ever again.
On a serious note... I knew that chick was going to cause me problems when she said "You spent 400 BUCKS on LIMBS for your stupid little TOY"