Borderlands

Its the “own a musket for home defense” copypasta but changed into Borderlands universe.

I own a shotgun for home defense, since that's what Singleton Talbot Jakobs intended. Four ruffians break into my house. "What the devil?" As I grab my monogrammed bathrobe and double-barrelled pump-action. Blow a golf ball sized hole through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Draw my pistol on the second man, miss him entirely because I'm half blind and nail a chandelier. I've to resort to the secret trap activated by pullin' a fake book, "See ya in hell boys" the trapdoor sends two men to their deaths, the sound of their screams agitate the saurians outside. Get out the fancy hand-carved bone knife my husband gave me and charge the last terrified rapscallion. He bleeds out waiting for the robo-butlers to arrive since wounds from serrated weapons are near impossible to stitch up. Just as Singleton intended.