I grabbed my close friend/office rival Jeremy "Don't talk about how many Fleshlights I've banged" Glass, and took to the streets of SoHo, where, luckily, you can almost legally drink/spray alcohol in public now. We told all the tourists to back the eff off, and I let this sucker blow.
A couple of things about this Champagne gun. There's no trigger. You just shake the thing as vigorously as you can until it spurts. Ha. Ha. I could make a joke about prom night, but I'm saving that for later.
Another thing -- and granted, I may not have been doing it correctly, because like any self-respecting dude I throw away any and all instruction manuals immediately -- it backfired hard. Maybe it was the karma police. Maybe I had a defective model. It doesn't really matter, because now, I'm soaked in Champagne, and the same editors who financed my bottles are making me write this before I change my clothes.