War Games

Went paintballing yesterday and I’m covered in bruises. Shoulders, ribs, legs—all marked up. My elbow’s torn open from where I slipped in the mud, but that’s not really part of the war narrative. Pink paint everywhere. Burst gel balls scattered across the ground like actual casualties. My friend Pedder took a shot directly to the head. Guy went down confused.

We were in the woods and these abandoned houses with a bunch of people dressed in way-too-realistic tactical gear, all of us acting like this mattered. Someone brought sausages, which is the only good decision anyone made all day. Pink splatter, people yelling, Pedder getting eliminated in the first five minutes. I mostly spent the time slipping on mud and remembering why I hate outdoor activities.

The bruises are real. The embarrassment is real. The fact that I’m not doing this again anytime soon is definitely real. I’m going back to Call of Duty, where I can at least pretend I’m competent at warfare.