You are going to need some background on this story of course. Last year, I took Tyler and his buddies from work to play Laser Tag for his birthday. We all had a great time running around in the dark tagging each other with our laser guns. I feel that I shamelessly took advantage of Vieve and shot her way too many times, but she was such an easy target. After the game, they give everyone a score card with their overall ranking and how many times they shot and were shot by each person. Tyler received his card first and they told him he ranked 14th. "Wait," he said. "There were only 13 people playing!" Well it turns out that some guy playing with us had a faulty suit so he switched it half-way through play. Well, this only ends up being more embarrassing for Tyler because that means the guy shot more people than Tyler in each suit he wore. Which wouldn't have been very hard since Tyler shot 7 people the entire game. I really should be kinder but I have no idea what he was doing. Vieve alone, I shot 21 times (sorry Vieve, but you will be redeemed soon). And I guess the frosting on the cake would be that I ranked 1st overall in the game. So Tyler lost miserably and his wife won, and on his birthday too. Ouch.
So I was a little surprised that he was willing to try again this year, although he did offer the caveat that if he came in last place again, it would be the last year for him. But he totally made up for last year. We played girls against guys which was really fun because I got to shoot against Tyler this time. Nothing like a little healthy competition between spouses. I may have taken it a bit too far though (see above picture of Tyler's bloodied head). In my defense (and there are witnesses) it was a complete accident. It went much like this...
Tyler had gotten a little too close for my comfort and I find that instead of running, if you face down your attacker, they will often bolt. My plan worked perfectly and Tyler took off running and I was in hot pursuit. Unfortunately, I had James on my tail and this speeded up the whole running process. I'm assuming Tyler's plan was to duck around a corner and turn around to catch me unawares and this would have been a great plan had I not been so incredibly close. He ran around a barrel and turned while I simultaneously plowed right into his face with my gun. Inertia was not kind in this case. I had built up enough steam that I could feel the collision rock my body. I was at first worried that I had broken his glasses and I screamed in terror. This only proceeded in bringing more of the men to shoot me in my state of trauma. James was adequately concerned over the injury, but I still think he managed to get a couple of shots on me while I stood there gaping. The moment was over quickly, and Tyler was up and away, but he heralded me minutes later to show me the blood flowing down his face. I was feeling so guilty.
The game ended a short time later and we filed out into the hall. Some people hadn't witnessed the event and they were surprised to see someone with a true injury (after all, we are playing with plastic guns--who's gonna get hurt?) Tyler put in a good showing at 4th place and he ranked highest guy on the men's team. I got 1st again, but I think everyone doubts how fair I play now. We'll have to see who is willing to take me on next year. To redeem Vieve, I didn't hit her even once this year (then again, she was on my team) but she scored 3rd place (way to go!!) Justin, I'm sorry I got you so many times, but at least I didn't hit you in the head.
Good times though. As you can see from the after shot, it wasn't that bad an injury.
Just a flesh wound really. But I have taken out the birthday boy again. What can I say...don't get on my bad side.
A flash of lightning--like a strobe light pulsing in my pupils. And then pain surging to the back of my skull, uprooting brain matter and transplanting it to alternative plots in my cranium.
ReplyDeleteSlow motion ensued. It was, of course, all I could do just to stand, bewildered by the array of violence unfolding around me.
And then pain. Throbbing agony pulsing from my eyes down through my jaw and into my neck.
I righted myself to look around; perhaps, identify my attacker! Imagine my surprise when, squinting through askewed glasses, I spotted Maleen craning at me exclaiming (dramatically), "M'gosh! Are you okay?" It seemed authentic enough at the time.
I stood up, reminded by my laser tag suit that I needed to "Energize" (yes she had put a few lasers through me and I would need to re-supply my laser suit). As I ran toward the energy tower, I discovered an odd sensation, blood dripping down my forehead!
Blood! Everywhere. On the gun, on the wall, it looked like a serial killer was loosed on the premises... (Okay maybe that was a little over dramatic, but you get the picture.)
Of course, I sought out Maleen, to inform her of what was going on. "Maleen," I heralded, "Don't shoot, I need to show you something."
She shot.
"No, seriously, take a look at this."
She came over and noticed the stream of blood, now clotting in my eyebrow. (She looked duly pained.) "Oh, honey, you're bleeding!"
She has always been very good at picking up on things like that.
So I shot her.
We went back to the game, but now that there was real bloodshed, it made it that much better.
In the end, it was the best dang game of laser tag I think I've ever played--blood and all.
Maleen, I didn't mind you wacking me in the noggin with the gun--and I don't even mind the blood, the headache, and the answers to embarrassing questions about how I got a gash on my forehead; it's the admission that my wife beat me senseless (again) at laser tag that really pains me.
Well there's always next year.
Tyler, way to spin a web of lies there. All I'm gonna say is, I totally represented this year. 3rd place is not bad. Especially because I hit Tyler 10 times.
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