I think I've discovered some sort of legendary artifact in this device. It expands my possibilities in the way our ancestors prayed to overcome bad weather, plague or crop failures. I cannot adequately describe, within the confines of human language, the raw brutality contained within this instrument. It is like a sacred weapon that an angel could use to unleash the wrath of an absent god upon intentional metal alloys. Now I'm DeWalt's agent to destroy the metallurgical marvels of modern technology. I have no other explanation for this relic other than one thing: Whatever DeWalt is charging, they should take more. They say that dad has no favorite children. This one does now. Nothing follows.__________________________________________