So what would happen to the Fudd who walks into IVAN CHESNOVOK's gun store in the waffegeist universe with a severely Bubba'd Mosin Nagant?
LET US FIND OUT

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Dedicated to loud Russian of /k/, IVAN CHESNOKOV
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>it was Monday and a man with a bushy beard wearing a flannel shirt, RealTree camouflage pants, rubber wading boots, and RealTree ball cap is about to enter a gun store
>his name is John
>John is a Fudd
>said Fudd is carrying a soft rifle case, whistling "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy", while approaching the gun store 
>said gun store itself is a large, but plain brick building with a white sign that reads "GUNS" in blocky red letters 
>John entered the store, still whistling, and gave the shelves a quick look
>upon them were dozens upon dozens of Russian and CommBloc weapons of multiple makes and models 
>at one counter stood a pair of waffegeists, behind them was an open door leading to the what appeared to be a work area and storage, from which Tchaikovsky was playing softly, John could see a large man in a striped shirt sitting at a work bench 
>looking back to the waffegeists one looked to be an Mosin Nagant, with long brown hair and wearing an old Russian army jacket over a white shirt, she was looking at a clipboard while the other waffegeist, an SKS with chocolate brown hair and feline ears with white tips, wearing a faded paratrooper jacket and was idly chewing bubblegum 
>as soon as John approached the counter the taller waffegeist looked up at him
"Hello, my name is Sasha and this is Anya, how may we help you?"
>she said with a warm smile as the SKS gave a polite nod
"Hello, ladies. I was looking ta get some work done on muh rifle fur wen deer season comes aroun'."
>John said with a smile of his own revealing a couple of missing teeth
"Ah well, as you can see this store specializes in Russian weapons."
>Sasha said pleasantly, ignoring John's accent while Anya watched the man suspicious of him already 
"Well then, gud thing I gots a Mosin. I started ta fix it up fur deer huntin', but I needs a scope."
>John said with a smile and set the soft rifle case down on the counter in front of the two waffegeists  
>Sasha felt a tremor of trepidation as she realized exactly what type of man stood in front of her
>Anya sensesd the same and clenched her teeth, staying by her safe sister's side


>John didn't notice the girl's reaction before he unzipped the rifle case and revealed a Mosin Nagant 91/30 
>a heavily and poorly modified 91/30
>the front portion of the hand guard had been trimmed down almost nothing, the barrel had been cut down by at least four inches, a new front sight had been directly welded onto the barrel, the butt plate had been replaced with a rubber pad, a pistol grip had been screwed onto the stock, plastic rails had been screwed into what was left of the hand guard, and an extend magazine had been attached with copious amounts of bonding epoxy
>Sacha stood perfectly still as she took in what had become of her sister rifle and felt her anger building up like a magma vent
>Anya looked to her safe sister nervously as she sensed what was coming next
>ignoring the man and the poor bastardized rifle before her, Sasha turned her head towards the door leading to the work room
"IVAN, WE HAVE BUBBA!"
>she declared with her Russian accent bleeding through thickly from her anger
"Now what inna hell are ya yellin' fur?"
>John asked angrily only to be sushed by the SKS before she  takes a step back from the counter 
>the record playing Tchaikovsky came to scratch and went silent 
"I'm a customer and I deman' ya tell me what's goin' on here."
>John said angrily with his scraggly beard swishing 
"Sasha, what did you say?"
>a large man in a light blue long sleeve Telnyashkas asked as he steps through the door leading from his workbench
"Deal with this."
>the furious waffegeist said pointing to the mangled Mosin and John, before stomping away into the back
"Sasha, see to Anya."
>the large man said with a small frown looking to the SKS
"Right."
>the other waffegeist said with a nod and quickly followed after the bolt action rifle 

"Now, wha-"
>Ivan started, but froze in horror as he saw the Bubba'd Mosin Nagant laying on the counter
>John however misinterpreted Ivan's shock of horror for one of amazement 
"I see you're astounded into speechless by muh custom work."
>the man said with a big grin as he stroked his beard
"WHAT IN FUCK IS DONE TO THIS POOR RIFLE?"
>Ivan bellowed at the Fudd, slamming his palms onto the counter as the vodka on the angry Russian's breath stung John's eyes 
"I, I just fixed it up so-"
>Ivan did not give John a chance to finish 
"YOU ARE MACHINIST?"
>Ivan demanded leaning over the counter and closer to the man's face
>John the Fudd flinched and shook his head no
"YOU ARE ENGINEER?"
>Ivan demanded leaning in closer
>another shake of the head from the Fudd
"YOU ARE GUNSMITH?"
>Ivan demanded again nearly touching foreheads with the man
>John shakes his head no once more

>the only indication of the depth's of Ivan's anger was the ever so slight twitch of his left eye
"STUPID HICK AMERICAN WITH TEN GALLON HAT AND GIANT PICKUP TRUCK LOOKS AT PERFECTLY FINE SERGEI MOSON AND SAYS "NO, RIFLE NEED MORE DUMB SHIT ON IT"?"
>Ivan bellowed once more nearly knocking over John Fudd with his volume 
"L-look i did tha best I could."
>John says trying to defend himself 
"WHAT IS REASON FOR PISTOL GRIP? IF YOU NEED TO FIRE FROM HIP IN EMERGENCY, NOW HAND IS TWISTED INTO PAINFUL ANGLE AND YOU MISS EVERY ENEMY! LOOK AT WRONG ANGLE OF BAYONET! LOOK AT CHEAP PLASTIC MAGAZINE THAT FEEDS CARTRIDGE LIKE CONSTANTLY JAMMING PEZ CANDY BOX! WHERE DID CLEANING STICK GO? 
RIFLE WAS FINE BEFORE YOU FUCK IT."
>Ivan said pointing out the several ways John Fudd had fucked up

"I had to fix it up fur deer huntin'!"
>John countered after finding some form of courage from somewhere in the depths of his beer gut
"MOSIN NAGANT PERFECT GUN AS PROCURED FROM IZHEVSK ARMS FACTORY."
>Ivan replied with fury, glaring down the Fudd
"But it t'was too dang heavy to take huntin."
>John declared trying to explain himself
"TOO HEAVY?"
>Ivan asked with a snarl his Russian accent coming out thicker as his ire rose even further
"We-well yes."
>John says with a shrug
"MOSIN NAGANT IS TOO HEAVY YOU SAY?"
>Ivan nearly growled out as a vein is his forehead became even more pronounced 
"THEN BECOME STRONGER COUCH LOVING AMERICAN SLOB. RIFLE IS FINE. RIFLE IS AWLAYS FINE. ONLY NEEDS CLEANING AND OIL."
>Ivan declared gripping the wood of the counter to keep himself from wringing the neck of John the Fudd
"But, but it don't got no scope."
>John said weakly 
>Ivan can take no more of this bull shit
>the furious Russian grabbed the Fudd by his flannel shirt and pulls him face to face over the counter
"YOU WANT SCOPE ON MOSIN NAGANT? FINE, YOU BUY GENUINE PU MOSIN NAGANT, NEVER CHANGE RIFLE, TAKE CARE OF FOREVER, AND GET FUCK OUT OF MY SHOP!"
>Ivan bellowed as loud as he can in the Fudd's face before letting him go and flop onto the floor


"Or better yet."
>Ivan said more calmly before he opened the register, grabbed a wad of money, and threw it at John as he tried to climb off the floor 
"Take money, leave rifle, and never come to my shop again."
>Ivan growled out with all the menace of a primed warhead ready to detonate
"F-fine th-then."
>John stuttered out before grabbing the money and fleeing the gun store


>Ivan scowled at the Fudd until he drove away in his pickup truck, he then looked down at the mangled Mosin Nagant on the counter
"It is okay. He will not hurt you again."
>Ivan said in a calm soothing tone as he ran his hand delicately over the poorly modified rifle's bolt
>in an instant the battered rifle is replaced by a girl with crudely chopped brown hair, faded, torn, and ripped clothes that barely cover her scarred body
"Pro-promise?"
>she asked looking up at the tall Russian gunsmith revealing numerous scars across her delicate face 
"Yes, you are safe with me and the girls."
>Ivan said before gently lifting the scarred waffegeist into a princes carry
"Anya, Sasha come and help me with this little one."
>Ivan said as he mentally ran through his inventory making sure he had all the parts and tools he'll need
"Is it time for us to heal another lost sister, Ivan?"
>Sasha asked hopefully with the SKS behind her as she appeared from the workshop door
"Yes! We will make her like new from Izhevsk Arms!"
>Ivan said with a smile as he carried the now free waffegeist to his work room and begin the process of her restoration