Gunfight U

[Grim Wolf]

(ENTER Alex Tarquin)

Alex Tarquin hated guns.

Not because they killed people, or anything like that.  A gun's purpose was to kill, and he'd much rather have armies shooting at each other than trying to beat each other up.  But guns ruined fight scenes.  A gun carries too much lethal weight and potential.  It was what made some of the old Star Wars movies so frustrating; watching characters weave through barrages of laser light as though they were slower than bullets.  Say what you would about the prequel trilogy, but at least they'd established a plausible way to pit sword-wielding mystics against armies.  Given them just enough supernatural justification that you almost believed the Jedi could be real.  Made a mockery of the very concept of imperial marksmanship by an implying that those poor Stormtroopers had never really had a chance.

But how to justify Han Solo?  How to justify the myriad characters whose only real talent was "cannot be hit by an army's worth of bullets?"  And any director and choreographer worth their salt couldn't do it.

The clearest example of this disheartening phenomenon was, in Alex's opinion, The Raid 2.  After one of the most flawless action sequences Alex had ever seen, the perfect choreography was interrupted by a half-hearted gunfight.  Falling action?  More like failing action. And that was the problem; by the rules of the movies, guns always trumped the up-close, visceral, personal perfection of a martial arts brawl.  The Raid had managed to achieve its towering heights of perfection by playing the sequence in reverse; functional gunfights until ammo was depleted, then brutal brawling as the characters did their best to make do with what little they had.

And yet, he couldn't dismiss the potential of cinematic gunfights entirely.  John Wick, Hot Fuzz,, and the achingly perfect showdown in Django Unchained all perfectly encapsulated what a gunfight would be.  But in order to make up his mind, Alex Tarquin had to do what he always did, and get a sense of what was required to make a gunfight perfect.  It had not taken him long to hatch his half-baked plan.  A paintball fight would given him the incentive to dodge--the paint of getting hit by a paintball--while providing him a fairly realistic simulcrum of what a gun could do.  And while he didn't have any paintball gear, his parents were more than happy to indulge him when he explained what he needed and why.

When he pulled up in front of the abandoned Paintball U in his 2014 Toyota Camry, his heart was beating erratically, and the same butterflies that often filled him with stage anxiety were beating up a storm in his stomach.  Nothing he'd read online had indicated it was actually illegal to come here, but he hadn't read anything that said it was exactly legal either--hence why he'd asked everyone who was interested to come close to midnight sans lights, so he didn't have to worry about the cops coming down on them too hard.  He parked a ways away from the sole streetlight nearby and stepped out of the car, green eyes sweeping around and looking for anything out of the ordinary.  He wore the faded, ragged jeans he usually used while he was working backstage, and his white undershirt was pulled taut against his powerful frame.

He used his keys to pop the trunk to his car, and started digging through his brand-new gear.

[ItzToxie]

Michael Crowe- Pregame Start

Just as I thought it was going alright...
I find out I'm wrong, when I thought I was right...
s'always the same, it's just a shame, that's all...
I could say day, and you'd say night...
tell me it's black when I know that it's white...
s'always the same, it's just a shame, that's all...

This was a rare occurrence for Michael. Well, it was multiple rare occurrences that barely happen on their own, let alone together on the same night. First, Michael wasn't driving his motorcycle to his destination, the abandoned paintball arena. He couldn't fit his gun, mask, and box of paintballs into the saddlebags, so he decided to take his father's truck instead. It probably turned out to be a good investment anyways, if he drove his bike at night with the lights off, he'd probably won't be driving home, cyclist luck and all of that. He didn't mind though, it gave him the excuse to plug an old mp3 player with a soundtrack that sounds like it came straight out of an old mafia film. Still, that was only the first rare occurrence. The second is the fact he was even invited to begin with. It wasn't like Alex and Michael hated each other or anything, but they never spoke, outside of some hi's and bye's. But the fact that someone invites you to a paint-ball fight, let alone one in an area that's probably really freakin' illegal to walk in on in the middle of the night, you accept man. You gotta accept.

He was pretty excited though, nobody outside his rather small buddy group invited him to anything, so this was a first. He couldn't wait to get there, his heart was audible through his chest. He was slightly worried in that the old clothes he brought were a misfits shirt that smelled like mothballs, and old cargo pants originally black, but now a dulled brown with bright orange bleach streaks along it. He grabbed the first thing he could that was in the back of his closet, but he'd wished he'd have grabbed something tastefully less worn. Oh well, at least his hair looked good; It looked good right? He looked at himself in the rear view mirror, tilting his head. Yeah, looks great, at least he'd got that one going for him. As he made another turn he began to contemplate how fucking epic this was gonna be. He wondered how many people would be there, maybe ten, maybe four. Hell, maybe he was the only one who didn't get the memo it was cancelled. That'd have been a shame. He turned down the road towards the driveway and at first he thought he was stood up, but as he drove closer, he saw Alex rummaging through his trunk. He spoke to himself as he slowed his driving to find a parking spot. "H'alright, so far so good."

He went towards the end of the parking lot, and backed into a space. He switched to park, engaged his E-brake, and turned the ignition off. He gave himself a good ten seconds to savor the song playing on his radio, before grabbing his bag and walking out his truck. He walked towards Alex, figuring he may as well pass the time and start a conversation. "Ay! Ay, buddy!" He yelled from across the lot to get his attention. Once he got close enough to speak in a mostly-indoor voice, he continued. "Heey man, uhh thanks for invitin' me an' all, uhhh, so... how many people you 'fink are uhhh gonna be here tonight?" Damn, he wasn't good at initiating conversations. "But uhhh, really though, thanks for invitin' me man, I'm glad to be here dude, I been pretty hyped for this." Well, maybe it wouldn't be too awkward.

[Cicada]

((Ignore))

[Primrosette]

((Jonathan Gulley - pregame start))

Jonathan was walking to meet up with the others. He could have ask Michael for a ride. Or he could have 'borrowed' his dad's car. But no. He had to be stubborn and try to do things by himself. Besides, it wasn't too far away where he had to meet them anyway. He promised himself that he wouldn't do stuff like this anymore. But when Alex told him that his best friend, Michael Crowe, was coming. He couldn't resist and he had to tag along. And what they were going to do did sound like it would be a lot of fun. He was also wondering how many people would be there as he wandering down the road. He shifted his shoulder slightly with his bag on it. His gear was already in there. His parents didn't even know that he was out. Oh well. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them. He wasn't going to get in trouble out here anyway.

A few minutes later after he had arrived to his destination, he could see that Alex and Michael were having a conversation with each other. Huh.... So they were the only ones here? He thought that there would be more people. But he guessed that only three people doing this would be alright. He felt a tingle of excitement inside of him. He couldn't wait to have fun. Beside, he needed a break from studying. Ugh, studying. He didn't even want to THINK about that right now. So he make sure to block it out of his head for now.

As he approached the other boys, he could hear Michael stumbling to speak clearly to Alex. He chuckled quietly under his breath. He couldn't blame Michael for that. Alex was a guy that they didn't really talk to. But this was possibly a great time to get to get to know Alex better. Oh, wait. Didn't Alex do acting or something? He couldn't remember that well. Oh, well. He could just ask him about it whenever. He stopped for a moment and he glanced down at his clothes. He was wearing a lot of black. He was hoping that this was suitable for a paintball fight. He had never done this before. So this was a new experience for him. He cleared his throat and he give the others his best smile. Heck, he was happy to be here so he should act like he is too.

"Hey, guys? Are we all ready to have some fun around here?" He piped up with a cheerful tone in his voice and he gave the guys a small wave in greeting. "So it's only the three of us, huh? That's cool. I am totally up for this. I've never done this before. So this should be a lot of fun."    

[Grim Wolf]

Alex was eying the abandoned field, chewing his upper lip and wondering if he'd made a mistake. Their was enough light leaking in from the lamps along the road that the arena of leaning fences and stacked tires was cast in harsh shadows, but it was still very dim.  Maybe this was a mistake.  He couldn't learn what he was doing if he-

A truck rolled in to the parking lot.  Alex tensed, his mind filled with a half-dozen paranoid fight scenes (grab his paintball gun, aim for the eyes and the windshield, what if they came at him with a knife, what if-"

I could say day, and you'd say night...
tell me it's black when I know that it's white...

Alex relaxed and hummed under his breath, "S'always the same, it's just a shame, that's all..."

Michael stepped out of the truck and said his stumbling piece.  Alex smiled at the short, stout figure.  "You're the one doing me a favor, Mike," he said.  "Thanks for showing up."

At the same time, Gulley (who Alex always vaguely thought of as Fern) strode out of the darkness, punky blonde hair standing out against the night.  Alex was beginning to feel uncomfortably tall.  Did short people have a preference for paintball?  Strange, if so.

"Hey F..." Alex trailed off and pretended to cough so Gulley wouldn't hear him mispronouncing his name.  "John.  Yeah, just us so far.  If anyone else shows, well...hopefully, we'll see'em.  Besides, just the three of us might work better."  He smiled a little.  "It's my first time, too."  He examined the equipment and started eying the park again.  "My whole plan was just to get a feel for these things.  I was gonna play with boffer rules; limb shot just takes out the limb, two limb shots, chest shots, or headshots means you're out until the next round, you can melee if you want to."  He tapped the plastic package of goggles.  "You guys got some or do you need some of mine?"

[ItzToxie]

Well, now introductions are outta the way, the conversation got a whole lot easier. Michael relaxed his posture, his speech pattern becoming faster paced, and less forced.  "Ehhh, so if we get it in the leg we hobble around like Emil in robocop? Sounds fun to me man ;b-b-but wait a second, how's melee gonna work?" Michael didn't catch on too quick to that one, as he was thinking of the stereotypical fps gun-smack that's prevalent in those works. " I don't think melee's a good idea, y'know, I'm kinda a hard hitter man, you know what I mean?" He chuckled. "Ben Field woulda told you that one if he wasn't too afraid of admittin' a faggot knocked him on his ass." Of course, that fight wasn't nearly as one-sided as Michael had told, rather it was slamming each other into the bathroom stalls, and swinging their arms violently at each other's faces until a teacher heard the ruckus and sent them both home for a week. No one really won or had the upper hand in it.

Before Michael could get too caught up in reminiscing the highlights of last year, common sense slapped him in the face like it should have before he made the stupid questions. "Oh yeah, don' we like, ehhh jus' say, 'surrender' or 'bang bang' or some shit if we're behind them, an' we don' feel like shootin' 'em up point blank? Coz' in da youtube vids I watched, most of' 'em did that shit, unless the fucker cheated of course; then they jus' lit 'em up, eheheheh." And he rewarded himself with another stupid question. Goddamn he was good at saying stupid shit. Michael quickly changed the subject, maybe he just wasn't that good at talking to new people.

'But uhh yeah, I invited 'D earlier, but Iunno if he's gonna show or not, it's your call really. Heh, Maybe he's worried 'dat his dye-job will make 'em an easy target ya' know?" Michael hoped Darius would show up, nothing better than more people pegging each other with bright painful balls of acrylic paint. Were paint balls filled with acrylic? Fuck if Mike knew, he wasn't a goddamn artist. "An' uhhh thanks for da offer, but I brought my own mask, gotta keep my visage fuckin' pretty, ya know." He pulled out a generic black paintball mask out of the bag he brought. " I mean, how else am I gonna kick start my modelin' career, eh?" He waved his eyebrows towards Jonathan.

Michael shrugged again, smiling. "But yeah man, we're ready when you're ready man; hell I been ready all week, you know?" Michael put the paintball mask on, pushing it up over his forehead so it didn't quite cover his face yet. " All on you, man."

[Primrosette]

Jonathan listened as Alex was telling him and Michael the rules and he nodded as if he understood them. Well, he did understand them. Of course. He winced at the idea of doing melee. Melee wasn't something that he was fond of doing. But he guessed it was okay if they were just going to do it for tonight. He wasn't going to let it bother him. He was interested in doing this. Heck, maybe he  would enjoy doing this so much that he would like to do it another time in the future. Who knows? Alex then said something about whether they needed to borrow some goggles from him or not.

.....Whoops.

He knew that he had forgotten something. He had left his goggles on the desk in his bedroom at home. Damn. He had been in such a rush to get here that he had forgot to picked up the protection for his eyes. He kind of felt a bit ashamed for that. But he couldn't let it get him down. Since Alex was offering to let them borrow some, there was no harm in asking to borrow a pair of goggles from him. He would give them back afterwards.

Before Jonathan could say anything to take Alex up on his offer, Michael suddenly started to ramble a lot. That was fine. Jonathan was used to Michael talking a lot. It didn't really bother him. He was more of a listener than a talker anyway. Sometimes. Michael mentioned something about Robocop. Jonathan remembered that he still needed to watch that one. Then Michael mentioned something about Ben Fields. Ben Fields..... Jonathan wasn't sure how to feel about that guy. So he mostly tried to stay away from Ben. Then Michael say some things about videos that he watched. Okay, that sounded cool. Jonathan also wished that Darius would come too. It would be great to have the gang to play paintballing together. Oh, Michael had brought his own mask. Now he was feeling more embarrassed about being the only one who forgot to bring his goggles along with him. Hah. Modelling career. That was funny to Jonathan and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.

Jonathan glanced over at Alex and decided that he had to get it over with. "Is it alright if I borrow a pair of your goggles, Alex? I was in such a rush to get here. And well, I left my goggles on my desk by mistake."

[Grim Wolf]

"Oh, we got these," Alex said, pulling out several rubber-bladed knives and a few brushes.  "In case you wanna get sneaky with it.  I'm fine with saying knife-stab rules are same as bullet rules.  Course, once we start getting paint on us, gonna be a lot harder to enforce."  Michael talked about not wanting to actually hit anyone.  "I hear that.  Don't wanna knock you guys out cold."  He did a couple playful punches in mid-air, miming Rocky's training montage.

Fern asked to borrow his goggles.  Alex laughed and tossed them over.  "Not a problem," he said.  "Don't want anyone getting really hurt out here.  It's all in good fun."  He left the knives and brushes where they were, in case either of them wanted any.  He checked the time on his phone.  "I wanna wait a bit, make sure no one else turns up," Alex said.  "If they don't, we'll do it like hide-and-seek.  We'll set our timers, go out there, and when they go off it's game on.  Sound good?"

[ItzToxie]

"Yeah man, I feel you, it's a better party when there's more in it." Michael nodded, his fingers tapping the bag of paintball gear at his side. Anxiously, he looked towards the group in front of him then towards the abandoned paintball arena.  He'd turn his vision back to the group again. "Gettin' pretty hyped though, ready to go at it like I was Max Payne." He'd laugh and imitate the quintessential two pistol slow motion dive that's prevalent in that particular series. Jus' hopin there ain't a rusty nail to land on in there, don't wanna get a tinnitus shot, heard those fuckers sting like a beyotch!"

After he gave a nervous laugh, he followed. "So uhhh, by the way, how long's 'dis place been abandoned anyways?" He looked at the arena chuckling. " 'Coz in all honesty, it looks like the place where a buncha' dumb teenagers like us get gutted by some deformed hillbilly in a mask."  

Hey, might as well start up a conversation to hide the fact you're pussybitching over hypothetical rusty nails right?

"I mean, it'd be kinda uneventful if it's just us three, coz then the movie wouldn't be too long, but y'know, maybe they could get creative or somethin' aheh. Has there ever been a paintball themed movie? Fuck I'd watch it. So long's it ain't British. British people can't make horror movies. Cept like, twenty eight days later, but even then the sequel sucked ass, y'know, hahaha."  He actually had to think about how many British movies sucked in all honesty. It was hard to come up with multiple examples, outside of some obscure low budgets in the back of his head. "Well, there was that one zombie movie in like the 80's. BrainDead or whatever. That one was pretty good. It uhh, it had like weaponized lawnmowers and ninja preachers." Well shit, he really couldn't think of that many bad horror films he's seen that were made it in the great UK.

''Guess Brit movies aren't all that shit, still not as good as ours though. I mean, it WAS back in the VHS days, and I don't know of a shit movie during the VHS days." Ok, enough reminiscing about the decade you weren't even born on, it was like, thirty or forty years ago, he thought to himself. He quickly brought himself back to the subject at hand.

"But yeah, this place would be a pretty cool set up for a horror film, even if OSHA would kick the director's ass for filmin' here."

[Primrosette]

(Sorry for the delay, guys. Just been busy for a while.)

Jonathan caught the goggles with his hands and he put them on. He grinned at Alex. "Thanks, man. Yeah, getting hurt would really suck." He nodded as he did a glance over the knives and brushes. He decided that he wouldn't use them. He didn't want to go psycho with them. Even if they were fake. Ha, ha, psycho. All he really remembered from that Psycho film was the famous shower scene. He was starting to get lost in his thoughts before Alex mentioned that they should wait to see if anyone else will come. "It wouldn't be that bad if no one else showed up. We can still just do this with the three of us. Hide and seek, huh? Knowing me, I'll possibly with the first one out."

Jonathan tilted his head slightly at Michael's words. "I don't mind if this place is abandoned. It's quiet and spooky. Maybe we could have a camp fire here and tell creepy ghost stories to each other one day. Wouldn't that be cool?" He was actually liking that sound of that. Wait. What if Alex didn't like that kind of stuff? He should check first. "Unless you're not into that kind of thing, Alex. Then you don't have to."

Jonathan was cringing at what Michael was saying about British horror movies but he wasn't going to comment on it. He didn't want to argue about what movies were good or bad. It would be childish. So he just pulled a pouty face and then Michael was now changing the subject.

"What would you call the movie? If it would be like a teen slasher in the '80s. Then how about 'Paintball Horrors'? No, 'Abandoned Place of Death!' Wait, no! How about 'The Stranger Of Abandonment'?"

Jonathan realized that he was getting side-tracked by this conversation. Whoops. He shouldn't forget why they were really here. "Sorry about that Alex. So how long should we wait? Or should we just get into it soon?" He asked curiously. He was just itching to get started.

[Grim Wolf]

Alex's eyes flickered between Fern and Mike, his mouth slightly open.  Not that the conversation wasn't interesting, mind you; it was just such an unexpected digression, and one that didn't really feel like it made sense.

Although, now that they pointed it out, this place did look like an easy horror set up.  Idiot kids all by themselves, abandoned location with weapons that couldn't possibly work...

Fern apologized for the digression.  Alex blinked and shook his head.  "Oh, no problem," he said.  "I just...I thought there might be a good pun.  Maybe...maybe Paint the Town Red?"  He shook his head again.  "Whatever, no one else is showing.  Let's do this."  He checked his watch and said, "Game starts at 9:45.  Let's do this."

He trotted off into the dark, looking for a hiding place.  He found a leaning fort of rotting wood, probed it with one foot as he eyed it with disgust, then ducked behind it.

He waited until clock rolled around until 9:45.  Then he ducked low and clutched at his gun with both hands, trying to keep it steady.  It felt clumsy and unfamiliar in his hands.

[ItzToxie]

"In all honesty man, Pain-Ballers would be nice title if I had a say in it. Depends on the movie really." Michael nodded to Johnathan's titles, first one was pretty good, latter two, eh not so much. Didn't matter though, the conversation helped Mike forget about the butterflies in his stomach (and the pinprick sensation at the bottom of his feet, thanks to his overactive imagination and the idea of rusty nails laying around.) The irony wasn't lost on Michael, considering the content of the conversation.

Alex replied with his own name idea. "Yeah man, sounds like a title for one a 'da fuckin' Italian gore-flicks, top tier shit. Like Lucio Fulci movies. Hahaha 'yknow?" Michael chuckled. "Now the Italians, they know how to make a good horror film man, best in the business when it comes to slashers. Got some damn good soundtracks for 'em too." Alex finished the conversation, letting everyone know it's time to get their shit in gear. Fuck yes! Whatever fear Michael had dissipated the moment they stepped inside the rather large arena.

Michael trailed off from everyone else, finding a somewhat small shack to hole up in. He crouched down, leaning against the wall near the doorway. He set his bag on the ground, and pulled his gear out. He started with putting his paintball mask on his head, but not quite covering his face with it yet. He pulled out the paintball gun and the spare ammo containers. All filled with hot pink paint-balls, he knew exactly who he'd hit with these. He loaded the gun, and wrapped his left hand around the handle and trigger. Now's the time to wait. Michael checked his watch- wait, he forgot his watch, shit. Michael fumbled his right arm through his pocket, pulling out his phone. The light went up and filled the room. "Well, lemme see what time it is." The phone showed 9:43. "Perfe-

Michael was cut off when his eyes trailed upwards towards the wall he was only inches away from. On it, was one big fucking demon. An Eldritch Abomination, one which the eyes of man was not meant to see. A creature so vile, so horrific, Michael could not even fathom it's existence, this was truly much worse than rusty nails, worse than a demented hillbilly with a hacksaw, WORSE than someone getting a hold of his private porn folders on his phone! Inches away from his face, was a wolf spider. One big goddamn demonic wolf spider...

One falsetto yelp and a leap backwards later, and Michael had already extended his paintball gun and unloaded, the famous *Ftoop-ftoop-ftoop*s echoing throughout the arena. Michael took a quick pause, breathing to re-inhale his ghost that had just temporarily left his body to escape such a demonic monstrosity. Though a Pyrrhic victory, one which costed Michael his masculinity for a sheer second, it was still a victory. The wall in front of him was a blotch of pink, with a small amount of chitin and spider leg glued on. Michael Crowe=One, Demonic Hell spawn from Innsmouth=Zero.

Michael took the time out to yell "Misfire!" so his buddies wouldn't panic and think he'd stomped on a rusty nail. He lurched forward, grabbing his phone, and getting the hell out of dodge, he'll just lay low behind that little barricade over there. After all, that  shack he bailed on was contaminated with hell spawn guts. Once he  had finally reached his new destination, he checked his phone. 9:44. Michael grabbed the mask hanging above his forehead and pulled down, covering his face. Taking one last shiver, he exhaled. That never happened. Anyone asked, he tripped. He looked back down at his phone again. 9:45.

"Let's do this." Michael spoke in the lowest rasp he could, regaining his machismo. That little "incident" was already in the back of his mind. Now, all he had to focus on, was turning his opponents pink.

[Primrosette]

Jonathan was staying quiet while Alex and Michael were talking. He had to make sure that he has everything that he need. Goggles. Check. Paintball gun. Check. Was there- Then Alex said that they should get started on the game. "Sweet!" Jonathan grinned excitedly. Ah. Starting at 9:.45. Okay. He made sure to remember to check his phone when he found a position to hide in.

He watched as the other two wandered off to find their own hiding places. Now where would be the best place for him to hide? Jonathan looked around as he was trying to walk quietly. It was kind of creepy to be here. Jonathan was starting to have second thoughts. But he shook his head to snap out of it. He was here to have a great time. This was not the time for him to get spooked at an abandoned place.

He suddenly stopped behind an old, crumbled wall. He peeked out from behind it. Not bad. It wasn't the best place for him to hide. But at least it was something. He ducked his head back and he got out his phone to check the time. 9: 43. Alright. Only two more minutes until-

Jonathan felt his heart almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a yell and then the sound of what sounded like a paintball gun shooting. "Holy-" He cut himself off as he heard Michael's voice shouting out something about a misfire. What the heck was that all about? It had scared the crap out of Jonathan. Wow. This definitely was the perfect place for a horror movie.

Jonathan took a few seconds to let his heartbeat slow down. Michael really did get him there. Maybe he could ask what had happened to him later. He took a quick look at his phone again. 9: 45.

Alright, it was time to get started. His hands clenched the paintball gun more tightly. And then he waited for someone to make their first move.....

[Grim Wolf]

9:45, and all is quiet.

It's taken some doing getting there, of course--whatever that stupid misfire was, Jesus Michael, were you attacked?  And that leads to paranoid fantasies, maybe this has become some kind of supernatural horror show, and now something that can mimic Michael's voice stalks them from the shadows.  It's madness, true, but the madness has a certain weight to it, reinforced with hours and hours of scary movies.

On the other hand, it also tells him where Michael is.  Or at least, was.

Alex steals into the darkness with the unfamiliar weight of the pistol in hand.  He sticks close to the ground and flits from shadow to shadow, moving after Michael.

[ItzToxie]

Michael laid still, only moving to peek his head over the wooden barricade he hid behind. Nothing... So we're playing the sneak game huh? He'd expect somebody to run across the field, spray and pray, someone would already be shooting someone else. Wait. He yelled out a few minutes before the game started. They know where he is! Sonufabitch! No wait, they know where he was, he changed positions. That means, he could catch them in the ass trying to catch him in the ass! Little demon spider, you may have been an angel in disguise.

Michael took a couple more peeks, looking down the field, alleys, and the building he'd came from. Okay, a little eerie, not gonna lie. This shit's like No country for old men. The aftermath of the motel shootout. Johnathan's the trucker, and Alex's Anton. Or, maybe Micheal was Anton, and Alex was Moss. He was the one trying to ambush them after all. But chances are, they're both trying to ambush him.  Fuck dude, this is too fucking quiet man.

He took another peek. Still nothing. Maybe they're focusing on each other. Took another peak. Nothing. Goddamn he was getting impatient, hurry the hell up people! If you wanna whack someone you gotta do it quick. Tony Soprano took no time to waste Blundetto, man. Come on! Michael took yet another peek. He looked at his options for cover. The corner of the wooden alleyway would work. Maybe could even go up it and hide in the bridge. Then again that bridge might not hold his weight,  it looks old as balls. There's thew building, and that little patch rolling around by it. He could suck up some bravado and hide back in there, wasn't a terrible spot, outside of you know who... Wait little patch rolling, hold up! Michael took cover again, grinning. Target number one spotted.

Did he see him? Fuck probably, which means he's gonna try to sneak up on Mike. Or start suppressing him. So, holding out, maybe not the best idea. He looked at the corner alley with his peripheral vision, trying hard not to move to much. He could probably use the cover in between him and Mr. Sneaky Beaky to relocate. But he wouldn't be able to sneak around, even in all black he'd get spotted a mile away. Leaves only one option. Intimidation.

Michael crawled up to the end of his cover, and put his feet under him, ready to sprint. He got up and booked it, swiveling his torso and extending his left arm, he'd tighten around the trigger,  the sounds of paintball pellets flying filled the air. Michael ran through the barricades, sprinting and spraying,  his attacker first got low, then bolted to another set of cover outside his line of sight. Michael had enough time to figure out it was Alex trying to sneak up on him. Already there was a zig-zagged line of pink dots peppering the old arena. Too bad he couldn't tell if he hit Alex or not.

He slammed into the corner, shifting around it to hide in the alleyway. Everyone's gonna be gunning for him first, which makes sense since he's the loudest. Might as well help 'em come at him. He yelled out a loud "Woooo!" that would've made Nature Boy proud. "Get at me! GET! AT! ME!" He punched his chest between chants. His adrenaline was pumping now. This shit's getting fun now...

"WOOOOO!"