Ebonclaw
12-12-2001, 10:49 AM
So there I am, me and my electro Shutter. I've worked my way up three quarters of the field and am crouched behind on the other side of one of the opposition's bunkers. It's empty, and I'm about to move up again and proceed to backshoot everyone. I have one opponent keeping me down, but he's let up and is focusing on someone else. My three man team still has all their players (My dad, brother and I) and their team has all three of theirs. So now, I get ready to pull my big move and swing around and take out all three players from their side of the field. I crouch into a running position, ready to take off and all of a sudden......
Splatsplatsplatsplat!
I mutter my bad word of choice under my breath and call myself out, wondering where the HECK that paint came from. The other two players were on the far right of the field, there was only one man on the left and he was behind cover, and the paint.....hit....me.....in...the....back......
Now I hear "Out? We didn't shoot you!" from the other team. I march off the field, having used some $5 of paint to get to my position only to have it stripped away by my teammate! "Who shot me?! I growl." "Oops. Sorry." That's my dad's voice. It's gonna be a long car ride home and I'M driving.
Turns out, all he saw was a hopper, and thinking I was still two bunkers back he opened up on it and somehow caught me in the back and on the gun from across the field.
But it's all cool, I watched the rest of the game from the sidelines. My brother ended up getting eliminated leaving only my traitorous father on the field. But he still took all three of them with his trusty stock Shutter. It's gonna be a dark day when he gets an e-frame. My revenge came the following week when I put some paint on his side in the same spot on two different occasions. He's got a big bruise there now.
Splatsplatsplatsplat!
I mutter my bad word of choice under my breath and call myself out, wondering where the HECK that paint came from. The other two players were on the far right of the field, there was only one man on the left and he was behind cover, and the paint.....hit....me.....in...the....back......
Now I hear "Out? We didn't shoot you!" from the other team. I march off the field, having used some $5 of paint to get to my position only to have it stripped away by my teammate! "Who shot me?! I growl." "Oops. Sorry." That's my dad's voice. It's gonna be a long car ride home and I'M driving.
Turns out, all he saw was a hopper, and thinking I was still two bunkers back he opened up on it and somehow caught me in the back and on the gun from across the field.
But it's all cool, I watched the rest of the game from the sidelines. My brother ended up getting eliminated leaving only my traitorous father on the field. But he still took all three of them with his trusty stock Shutter. It's gonna be a dark day when he gets an e-frame. My revenge came the following week when I put some paint on his side in the same spot on two different occasions. He's got a big bruise there now.