Why is it that Hollywood consistently runs storylines about people who are guarding (or searching for) Artifacts of Apocalyptic Power, what are guarded by (or also sought by) Mysterious Deadly Bad Guys Capable Of Killing With A Single Finger --
-- and the good guy quite obviously doesn't know the Good End of a firearm from the Bad End?
I mean, call me nutso, but if this schmuck is the mythical Bartender of the Silver Light, charged by Fate with recovering the Sacred Swizzle Stick of Horus before it Ends The World As We Know It -- and knowing that said schmuck is going to be opposed by the fanatical (and deadly) Wombat Clan of Egyptian Ninjas (Transylvanian chapter #5496) -- don't you think it might be somewhat wise for the afore-mentioned schmuck to have the entire Thunder Ranch syllabus under his belt?
And don't these people have any friends? Relatives? The half-a-bubble-off-of plumb uncle that doesn't get invited to family reunions; the cousins with NASCAR bumperstickers and cookbooks full of recipes for 'possum; or the high-school and/or military buddies that went on that roadtrip to Mexico resulting in 110 sutures, mysterious blood stains, some enigmatic tattoos, short-term antibiotic regimens, and oaths of secrecy?
Or is that just me?
With the Fate of the World at stake, you'd think any self-respecting secret society worth the name would have the funds set aside for some decent prior training, or -- if the training isn't possible -- the direct phone number to Blackwaters Rent-A-Friend Program.
Mysterious Emissary: "LawDog, you are the last descendant of the girlfriend of the second squire of the third-to-last Equerry of the Benedictine Chapel that once sheltered a lost patrol of Knights Templar for a rainy weekend. It is your DEEESSSS-tiny to recover the Holy Truss of Saint Fred the Sproinged before it is used to bring an end to the world!"
LawDog: "Now what? Haven't you folks ever heard of bank vaults? Yale locks? Sodding Switzerland?"
Mysterious Emissary: "You must travel to the mysterious depths of the Amazon Basin to the mythical Temple of Garglegarglehack -- I say, old chap, isn't that an awful lot of guns?"
LawDog: "No. On the way to the Amazon, do you mind if we stop off and pick up a couple of friends?"