It was a bright, sunny day. The marksman set his eyes about the target, in the distance, perched precariously on an earthen berm. He looks at the surrounding trees noting the listless behavior, the wind would cause him no harm today, on this the most important shot of the day. Offhand, the standing position, no use of slings allowed, this is the position that makes or breaks most matches. His form perfect. Years of shooting have created muscle memory so deeply ingrained, he no longer has to think about the placement of his finger on the trigger, or the buttstock.
He takes up the slack of the trigger, and gives careful estimation of where to sets the sights. Pulling the rifle forward with his offhand he bump fires his AK into a motherfucking propane tank! BOOM motherfuckers! The crown cheers and beers are spilled, the AK bump firing away, kicking up craters in the berm. The propane tank lights up the night, and the people who shoot for entertainment.
It takes all kinds I suppose.