One day at the BP club (before it closed down), I brought along a new mule ear rifle that I had found for sale at a local shop long after it was discontinued.
After firing a small number of shots, the trigger broke and it wouldn't stay cocked. The gun was already loaded with a Buffalo Ball-et when it happened, so while aiming the rifle I asked my friend Pete to pull back on the mule ear hammer and to let it go when I gave the word so that the rifle would fire off and be empty.
It was awkward holding the rifle steady with Pete standing there holding the hammer outward. At some point he let go of it, the rifle fired and when the smoke cleared there was the shot just barely touching the bullseye of a 50 yard orange .22 target that was fixed to a paper plate.
So what if it was only at 25 yards. It was still the best shot that I ever made with a Ball-et and I don't know how it turned out so well.
That was the only shot on the target so I hung it up on my kitchen wall for many years because it was such a lucky shot, and because it reminded me about how you can get by with a little help from your friends, just like the name of the Beatles song.