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...but it's not me, it was my uncle.
About 40 years ago, my uncle was 18 and I was around 8 or so. He had a bolt action Mauser that his dad (my Pap) had bought him for deer season.
My beloved uncle (seriously, he used to let me hang out with him when we were at those ages), was sitting on the living room floor with his rifle (my grandmother was in the kitchen, and my aunt...his sister, was sitting on the couch with me...Pap was at work) and decided he wanted to show us how fast he could rack the bolt. He loaded it with 6 rounds and emptied (almost) the magazine in about 4 seconds. It was then that I asked, "But, Uncle Duke, would you have time to pull the trigger".
He looked at me, luckily the rifle was pointed away from everyone, and pulled the trigger, just as it dawned on me that there were only five rounds sitting on the floor beside him.
The sound was incredible as the 8mm round passed through the leg of the console television, through an interior wall at the baseboard, exited the other side, severed the telephone wire, went through two oak legs of the telephone stand, through another baseboard and stopped only because it hit the bricks of the exterior wall.
The concussive effect knocked a picture off the wall behind my aunt, hitting her in the head, and scaring the...well, let's just say, laundry had to be done that evening.
In order to save my uncle's life, Grandma patched, covered, and cleaned up all evidence before Pap got home, as my uncle would likely have been hospitalized from the beating. Pap never found out about it, but everyone in the house gained a HUGE amount of respect for firearms. My uncle carries that bullet around to this day.