The temprature: 64 balmy degrees.
The Gun: Pirahna STS with reg. and stock barrel
The paint: 98 degrees paintballs. one hopper full.
I had my intended victim well within sight. The punk had moved into my position, unaware of me. A grin crept acroos my face. A light trigger pull later, and my "victim" knew exactly where I was- it was easy. Just look for an orange mist, and confetti gelatin floating to the ground. For every shot that whizzed by my head, I returned a shower of liguid paint and shards of shell. *grrrrr!* I squeeged the barrel, dumped the remaining 98 Degrees, loaded up some marbs my friend threw to me, and proceeded to eliminate the punk with two shots... he had grown confident seeing an orange mist fog bank in front of my position.
I learned from my mistake. I dumped 'em, and will never harken it's door again.