The shotgun enters into an agreement with its operator whenever it is selected or awarded. Whether consciously or not, we all know the terms of this agreement. The weapon says: “I agree to kill – not hurt, kill – humanoid enemies with a single, squarely-aimed shot at distances of 25 feet and below. That is my strength. That is my job. That’s what I’m for.” The user says: “I accept your limited range and bottom-of-the-heap firing rate in light of your unprecedented power and performance at close quarters. Now let us go forth and flip some mother*bleep*ers over.”

John Carmack drafted this contract for most of us in Doom in 1993, and we sign fresh copies of it each year when we reach for one of these wide-barrelled wonders. Why do we love getting our hands on the shottie so much? Because it’s so severe and so very final. There’s no spray and pray here; no trading fire. You use cover, get inside lethal range, then, in a split second, aim – anywhere along the vertical axis from head to sternum will do – and put someone the hell down.