This is the second of two profiles of candidates for Virginia's 8th District congressional seat.

Rep. Stan Parris hasn't flown a combat jet in 35 years, but his self-proclaimed fighter-pilot attitude hasn't changed a bit. His guns still are blazing, this time firing words instead of bullets.

Parris, a Republican from Northern Virginia's 8th Congressional District, says this about his Capitol Hill colleagues and the recent budget crisis: "It's enough to make you sick."

Parris on statehood for the District of Columbia: "I am against statehood. I am not reviewing it or thinking about it. I have done some things about it, and that upsets people."

And Parris on his Democratic opponent in Tuesday's election, Alexandria Mayor James P. Moran Jr.: "I know he needs a job, but I didn't realize until this campaign how desperately he wants mine."

Sometime, somewhere, Stan Parris must have harbored an uncertain feeling or an unexpressed thought, but rarely has he displayed either in public. After 12 years in the House and 27 in politics, Parris has made himself a lightning rod in the Washington area, a brook-no-bull conservative to his friends and a blowhard to his detractors.

Even by Parris standards, however, his campaign this year has been a scorcher. Moran has raised more than $700,000, capitalized on public disgust with Congress and dispensed a few tongue-lashings of his own. For the first time in almost a decade, Parris's hold on the 8th District seat is in doubt.

Anyone who thinks such uncertainty might prompt Parris to modulate his style, however, does not know the man a former aide has dubbed "Two-Gun Stan."

"I have tried to make a habit of just standing up and saying what I think," Parris said. "That polarizes people. But it's the only way I'm comfortable doing it."

Parris, 61, is vying with Moran to represent a district that includes Alexandria and parts of three counties: southern Fairfax, eastern Prince Willliam and northern Stafford. He has spent his congressional career developing an indelible public image of himself and has cast his campaign this fall along familiar lines.

He has emphasized local issues, particularly his efforts to win federal construction money for roads and the Metrorail system. He has skillfully used the advantages of incumbency, blanketing the district with taxpayer-financed mailings and attending to the needs of federal workers, who account for a third of his constituents. Most of all, Parris has missed few chances to blast the government of the District of Columbia.

The District's Lorton Correctional Complex and Lorton landfill are both in Parris's district, and he frequently excoriates these unwelcome exports of prisoners and garbage from the north. He often invokes the name of Mayor Marion Barry in stump speeches as a symbol of what he considers wrong in the District.

What has been different about the 8th District race this year is that Moran has struck back, sometimes in terms more strident than Parris's.

When Parris compared Moran to Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi in a foreign policy dispute, Moran angrily called Parris "a deceitful, fatuous jerk" and threatened to punch him. Moran also characterized Parris's District-bashing as "racist tactics" and accused Parris of personal racism, though he backed away later.

Stung by the allegations, Parris has repeatedly denied he is prejudiced. He recently got a vote of confidence from an unexpected source: Virginia Gov. L. Douglas Wilder, who is a Moran supporter and is black. Wilder, who has known Parris casually for 20 years, declined to characterize Parris's campaign tactics, but said, "I don't consider him a racist."

These days, Parris scarcely disguises his contempt for Moran. He points out that Moran has campaigned almost full-time this year and has been paid only his $25,000-a-year mayoral salary. Parris snips that Moran "wants the {House seat} because he has a wife and kids to support . . . . I don't do this job for the money."

Indeed, Parris made himself a millionaire before entering Congress, capitalizing on Northern Virginia's explosive growth and joining an inner circle of lawyers and real estate developers that wields enormous influence in the region.

Parris grew up in Illinois, the son of a contractor who went bankrupt in the Depression. Shortly after he graduated from college, the Korean War broke out, and Parris signed up for flight school, even though he had never boarded an airplane.

He flew more than 50 missions, survived being shot down and was decorated for valor. When he returned home, Parris got his law degree from George Washington University and acquired his love of politics while supporting himself with a part-time job in the Capitol.

In 1963, Parris was elected to the Fairfax County Board of Supervisors. He later served four years in the Virginia House of Delegates and was elected to Congress in 1972. He was defeated two years later in the Democratic landslide that followed Watergate, but regained the seat in 1980. He lost campaigns for governor in 1985 and 1989.

Along the way, Parris practiced law, bought and sold a Woodbridge car dealership and developed several strip shopping centers. His closest friends include such prominent developers as Myron P. "Mike" Erkiletian and John T. "Til" Hazel.

Parris owns weekend houses in Fauquier County, where he flies his own single-engine airplane, and on the Chesapeake Bay, where he fishes, boats and hunts. He has occasionally hunted big game in Africa, and his trophies include a leopard.

Moran charges that Parris's gubernatorial campaigns show he has lost his desire to serve in Congress, and Parris does not rule out another campaign for governor in 1993. But as usual, Parris has a quick reply ready.

"I've got enough enthusiasm left to win this election," Parris said, grinning. "I'm going to enthuse myself to get 51 percent of the vote."