Got Nerf?
Re-posting this on the three year anniversary of the events described below...enjoy!
Not all of the games I play take place at the table. Some are more dangerous than others. This is the dramatic retelling of one of those adventures...
By the west entrance I stood, adrenaline pumping, knowing I didn't have long before he took a shot. I took cover, peering out from behind a wall, waiting anxiously. I tried to make myself as flat as possible to avoid being seen. A foam bullet whizzed past me and I erupted into a fit of giggles as I dove into an empty room.
Being familiar with the layout of the building, I was aware that there was an exit in the south corner. I push past the furniture blocking me from the main room, and after several moments I am triumphant and cease movement, silently acknowledging the territory I have conquered. The battle had only begun, though: my opponent remained alive.
I knew she knew I was in the kitchen. I also knew that she knew that I knew she knew I was in the kitchen. I could hear her forcing open the door to the apartment's east bedroom and briefly considered making my way to the bathroom so I could attack from an unexpected quarter. I doubted I would be quick or stealthy enough to change positions without being detected so I hunkered down to wait in the dark.
And there we were, in complete darkness, maneuvering silently through the apartment, armed with foam bullets and obnoxiously colored plastic guns. My finger hovered over the trigger, undisciplined and itching to deliver terror at 100 feet per second. I knew my opponent well, and I also knew his chosen hiding spot. The kitchen was wide open, save for the pantry: an impenetrable fortress lined with unperishible food items and boxes of pasta.
I held my breath, reaching out with my feelings as I tried to sense her location as she moved through the apartment, hunting me as I hunted her. Let me say this: the house is loud. The floorboards creak every time I shift my weight. Trucks rattle the windows as they drive past. One smoke alarm chirps forlornly every few minutes, begging for its battery to be changed. I take it all in, becoming one with my environment. I raise my weapon, aiming into the darkness.
I had to note his brilliance. While I had most of the rooms conquered, the kitchen was a prairie. Unconquerable. A suicide mission. My best chance of survival was luring him out into the hall - so lure him I did.
Clutching my weapon and readying myself for the strike, I finally revealed my position by firing rapidly into the kitchen and then rushing back to the west entrance, just inside the second bedroom.
There is a flicker of shadow, a flash of motion and she is past me, heading toward our room at the south end of the apartment. I race after her, chasing her down the hallway. She spins, raises her red plastic gun and fires without aiming. I squeeze my trigger at same time. I get off two shots and hit her in the arm but there is a brilliant white flare and searing pain erupts in my right eye.
I've been shot. A yellow rubber ball about the size of my thumb has hit me in the eye.
I stop. I sink to my knees. My eye is burning. I can feel liquid streaming from the socket and wonder if my eye just exploded.
Seeing his silhouette, I took my shot just as he did. Groaning ensued. Safe behind the cover the bedroom provided, I collapsed on my knees, laughter impossible to contain. After a few moments I traveled into the hall, assuring him that he hit me in the arm. And then all was revealed: my foam pellet hit him right in the eye. I had won.
The lights come on, followed by a sharp gasp and an "I'm so sorry! "
Crap.
My eyeball really has exploded....
No. Wait. My vision is returning. I'm ok.
Ouch.
That really hurt.
Goggles. Definitely need goggles the next time we play.
Within the first fifteen minutes of our nerf gun war, I managed to shoot Brad in the eye. I was appropriately concerned after I "won" and he is a-ok.
Not all of the games I play take place at the table. Some are more dangerous than others. This is the dramatic retelling of one of those adventures...
By the west entrance I stood, adrenaline pumping, knowing I didn't have long before he took a shot. I took cover, peering out from behind a wall, waiting anxiously. I tried to make myself as flat as possible to avoid being seen. A foam bullet whizzed past me and I erupted into a fit of giggles as I dove into an empty room.
Being familiar with the layout of the building, I was aware that there was an exit in the south corner. I push past the furniture blocking me from the main room, and after several moments I am triumphant and cease movement, silently acknowledging the territory I have conquered. The battle had only begun, though: my opponent remained alive.
I knew she knew I was in the kitchen. I also knew that she knew that I knew she knew I was in the kitchen. I could hear her forcing open the door to the apartment's east bedroom and briefly considered making my way to the bathroom so I could attack from an unexpected quarter. I doubted I would be quick or stealthy enough to change positions without being detected so I hunkered down to wait in the dark.
And there we were, in complete darkness, maneuvering silently through the apartment, armed with foam bullets and obnoxiously colored plastic guns. My finger hovered over the trigger, undisciplined and itching to deliver terror at 100 feet per second. I knew my opponent well, and I also knew his chosen hiding spot. The kitchen was wide open, save for the pantry: an impenetrable fortress lined with unperishible food items and boxes of pasta.
I held my breath, reaching out with my feelings as I tried to sense her location as she moved through the apartment, hunting me as I hunted her. Let me say this: the house is loud. The floorboards creak every time I shift my weight. Trucks rattle the windows as they drive past. One smoke alarm chirps forlornly every few minutes, begging for its battery to be changed. I take it all in, becoming one with my environment. I raise my weapon, aiming into the darkness.
I had to note his brilliance. While I had most of the rooms conquered, the kitchen was a prairie. Unconquerable. A suicide mission. My best chance of survival was luring him out into the hall - so lure him I did.
Clutching my weapon and readying myself for the strike, I finally revealed my position by firing rapidly into the kitchen and then rushing back to the west entrance, just inside the second bedroom.
There is a flicker of shadow, a flash of motion and she is past me, heading toward our room at the south end of the apartment. I race after her, chasing her down the hallway. She spins, raises her red plastic gun and fires without aiming. I squeeze my trigger at same time. I get off two shots and hit her in the arm but there is a brilliant white flare and searing pain erupts in my right eye.
I've been shot. A yellow rubber ball about the size of my thumb has hit me in the eye.
I stop. I sink to my knees. My eye is burning. I can feel liquid streaming from the socket and wonder if my eye just exploded.
Seeing his silhouette, I took my shot just as he did. Groaning ensued. Safe behind the cover the bedroom provided, I collapsed on my knees, laughter impossible to contain. After a few moments I traveled into the hall, assuring him that he hit me in the arm. And then all was revealed: my foam pellet hit him right in the eye. I had won.
The lights come on, followed by a sharp gasp and an "I'm so sorry! "
Crap.
My eyeball really has exploded....
No. Wait. My vision is returning. I'm ok.
Ouch.
That really hurt.
Goggles. Definitely need goggles the next time we play.
Within the first fifteen minutes of our nerf gun war, I managed to shoot Brad in the eye. I was appropriately concerned after I "won" and he is a-ok.
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| We didn't get goggles but I think this was a better choice anyway. |
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