My dad gave me a NEF break action 20ga for Christmas when I was 11. Full choked 28" smooth top barrel light weight. He also gave me a box of high brass Remington #5 shells with it. We walked down to behind the old hog shed and he sat a drink can on the slab pile. He said well give her hell!! Now keep in mind, up until this point his little 514 Remington was the only gun I had ever shot (i had shot it sever hundred times and was in my mind fairly proficient). I raised that little shotty up, looked down that gorgeous blued barrel, placed that shiney brass bead on that bright green and white colored Mt Dew can thumbed the hammer back and pulled the very stiff trigger. Two things simultaneously happened; the can vaporized and the shot gun smacked my cheek and violently kicked down my bicep stopping in the bend of my arm. Pops laughed, said boy ya gotta hold on to that thang and handed me another shell which politely declined and said we better get back up to the house and get ready for lunch ( it was like 8:30 lol). I carried it the rest of squirrel season claiming I didn't see anything to shoot. I tried once to place it on a tree and reach around the tree to shoot it, that absorbed the recoil but that made it fairly difficult to aim. That was the kickingest gun I had ever seen! Never did get to where I could shoot it. I still have it to this day and it kicks worse than any shotgun I have ever messed with and I have several 10ga and 3.5" magnums.