It’s all good fun until someone loses an eye.

So this happened a couple of days ago at work.

One of my close friends at work came up to our department to say hi, bringing along with her a girlfriend she was showing around.  Her friend had her young son in tow; I’d say he was about 5 or 6 years old.

Now, for context, everyone in our department owns a Nerf gun for any impromptu gun fights that break out.

It happens.

It’s brutal.

It’s also possible you can see where this post is going.

Anyway, they walked into our department, said hi and then handed the 5/6 year old a Nerf gun and he started firing at us, indiscriminately.  He was loving it; shooting and laughing like a boy possessed.  Hey, as long as there’s no nudity or swearing, some mindless and unprovoked gun violence is always welcomed here in America.

(ooh, controversial)

A few of my colleagues pulled out their guns (he he) and retaliated with friendly fire; it was a fun moment.

Then in came me.

I pulled out my massive weapon (sorry, couldn’t resist), cocked it (seriously, I can’t stop) and aimed at the child (OK, I’m going to get arrested).

Now, I’m a terrible shot with these things so I wasn’t worried.  I couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a banjo. So I aimed at his general head area and fired.  The dart hit him full on in the face; his left eye to be precise.

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There was a pause in time and everyone held their breath.  We were all thinking the same thing.  Will he:

A) Laugh and fire back more enthusiastically

….or…..

B) Cry.

 

He went with B.

Great.

He put down the gun and buried his face in his mother’s embrace, sobbing profusely while everyone turned to me and said things like “Nice one Dan!” or “What were you thinking?”.  It was all slightly tongue in cheek, but the kid didn’t know that.  If only someone had said something like “Right, he’s going to get you now!” and boosted his primal urge to retaliate, he wouldn’t have felt so embarrassed and may not have cried.

Alas, that wasn’t the case.

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I genuinely felt bad for injuring this poor kid, and because he was now weeping in front of all these adults (loose term), but I was undergoing an internal conflict between my brain and my mouth.

Mouth – “Oh my god, I am SO sorry!”

 

Brain – “Ha ha, YES!  In the face!  IN.  THE.  FACE!!!  Boom!  Did you see that?  Right in the fucking eye.  Crack shot! (self high five)”

 

Mouth – “I really didn’t mean to hit him in the face!”

 

Brain – “I TOTALLY aimed for the face and I can’t believe I hit him!  I am the Nerf master!”

 

In an attempt to explain my actions, I tried to explain to his mum that I was usually such a bad shot and that I wasn’t aiming anywhere near him.  Then, to prove my lack of accuracy, I fired in her general direction.

As the dart bounced off her head with the most satisfying ‘Doink!’, my brain went into overdrive, but my mouth (thankfully) took over the situation.

Mouth – “Oh my god, I am SO sorry!”

 

Brain – “Ha ha ha, straight off the noggin!  Did anyone see that?  Bam!”

 

Mouth – “I don’t know what’s wrong with me!  I’m going to put down the gun now.”

 

Brain – “I TOTALLY aimed at your head and hit it!  I really thought I’d miss this time, but I didn’t!  I’m putting the gun down now as I’m two for two!  Booyah!! (air grab)”

 

She looked at me with a mix of angry surprise and ‘WTF!?’.  She literally couldn’t believe I shot her a mere 10 seconds after blinding her son.

Maybe this is why guns aren’t legal in Britain; it appears we’re TOO good, by Jove!

darts

 

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Toys, taxis and tourettes

I’ve just been for a wander in London, mostly to get out of the office for some fresh air and to stretch my legs.

My travels took me to ‘Forbidden Planet’; a Mecca to geeks up and down the country, selling all sorts of film, gaming and comic memorabilia. 

I passed a couple with their young son who was holding a life size replica of the portal gun from Aperture Laboratories, made famous by the game ‘Portal’.  Awesome!

As I got nearer I heard the dad telling the boy that he couldn’t have it.  This is fair enough, but the kid was already holding it in his arms.  At least tell the boy BEFORE you’ve watched him carefully pick it up off the shelf and hold it lovingly in his arms like a puppy, you turd.  

He pleaded with his dad, but the answer was no.

“How about a foam sword son?”

“How about you suck my hairless balls dad?”

I mooched around the shop for a bit, dribbling over Star Wars stuff, before heading back out into the rain. 

As I got to Tottenham Court road I saw a woman in a suit hail a taxi from the kerb.  She threw her arm up like an enthusiastic pupil answering a classroom question and the cab pulled over sharply.  She hop, skipped and jumped the deepening puddles towards the taxi door only to stop, turn back and shout “for fucks sake!” at the top of her lungs.

This turned a few heads.

It seems three Chinese students had beaten her to the taxi, and as it sped off she angrily attempted to hail another one.  This time she looked less like a pupil and more like a Nazi.

To top all this off I saw a skinny little man with a massive beard waiting to cross the road; shouting and arguing with the traffic lights, the pavement and the corner of the pub.  Despite it being one of the busiest cities in the world, there didn’t seem to be anyone else needing to cross the road at that moment. 

Weird.