THE COMEBACK KID / STORY

THE COMEBACK KID / STORY


(light alternative rock piano music) – An undersized, awkwardly slow, roley-poley. This is the visual that I would use to best describe middle school me. Which, not very flattering. (laughing) No it is not. And around this juncture in my life, I was getting into paintball. One weekend, me and my friend Wesley, decided to hit up the paintball park. This was the place to go! If you wanted to play paintball. I always brought my
semi-automatic Piranha. It was a decent gun, you
know, it was pretty decent. Except for the minor detail
that it never shot straight. It couldn’t shoot straight! Wesley brought his pump-action Titman. Which (laughs) it’s almost
too crappy to even mention. But I should mention that he
had the agility of a hammock. And he had a head shaped
like a vertical watermelon. He was odd. We’re about to hit up the
courses with our teams. When a group of five freaking
professional paintball players come up to our ref and
ask if they can play! Play? Freaking play!? My group was compiled of a bunch
of recreational individuals who have never played high
velocity paint swapping before! And the ref had the brass to ask us, “do you want to switch off teams, and have all you guys against these five?” I would rather pee lightning, than go against a bunch of professionals! But before I could even
express my displeasure, this ten year old
birthday boy just shouts, “Let’s do it!” First game. We hit up a
course called Area 51. The game starts, and before
I even get off a shot, I get double tapped. (shooting sounds) First hit (paintball sound) Head shot, right in the freaking mask. Alright, which just happens
to shoot a just a nice, freaking delicate spray
of paint into my mouth. Second hit, I get freaking, I get hit in the ah, hard candies. Right in the hard candies. Direct hit in the hard candies. I just wanted a fun
filled day of paintball! I didn’t want to go up
against Seal Team Six! Everyone was slaughtered. And then we went to go
play the second game. We went to this place called The Jungle and within five minutes
of happy pain and anguish. (laughing) Everyone just annihilated, just gone! Everyone but me and Wesley. We were getting ready to cross a stream, that separates us from their base. Right, when something just blasts! Out of the water, a hurling mass comes shooting out of the water! It’s a freaking six-foot-two
professional paintball player. Guy has a snorkel in his mouth! A freaking snorkel! A snorkel! This guy was waiting in a body of water, for who knows how long! How long was he waiting
in there, for how long!? So he takes out his barrel plug and he lights me and Wesley up! I’m talking about like over twenty times. We freaking hit the ground
and he’s still shooting us! He’s still shooting, cause
he’s got an automatic gun, so he’s just holding it
down! (shooting sounds) I stand up and I’m heated. Okay, because you’re only
supposed to shoot somebody once. One freaking time. I mean, what a tool. What a tool! Belt, what a tool belt. What a tool bench! The guys a, (mumbles) He’s a bench! So as I stand up, I shot at the guy. I’m like, “Dude, you’re not
supposed to keep shooting!” That’s fourteen year old me. Dude! (laughing) And he replies back with, “It’s part of the game. “If you can’t handle
the pain, don’t play.” Fourteen year old me had no
comebacks, I had nothing. So I used one of my mothers. One of her comebacks. So I look at him and freaking, I shout. “Well it’s not, and it’s gonna come back, and it’s gonna bite you in the butt, mister!” That was my mom’s thing. You had to put mister at the end, mis, mis mister. So the last game goes down. And we go to a course
called Hamburger Hill. I didn’t care about
anyone else but that guy! I knew he was at the top of the hill. So I hit dirt and I
start military crawling up this hill with Wesley in tow. When I arrive at the peak, I roll up against this dirt wall. I turn back to Wesley and I say, (whispers) “That guys is
on the opposite side of us. “On a three count we’re
gonna take him down.” “One, two, three!” I tear from the wall and
I slide down on one knee! I start slamming the trigger
as fast as humanly possible! (shooting sounds) I couldn’t even see. Cause my mask was fogging up. Cause of the intense plume of C02! I’m so freaking worried, that
I was not even hitting him, cause my gun did not shoot straight. So I didn’t stop until every
piece of paint was let loose. And I knew if I couldn’t
hit him, Wesley could. He was my backup plan! So I look to my right,
expecting to see Wesley. He was still hiding! I could see his stupid little melon head poking out of the wall, looking at me. I started screeching, “Wesley, shoot him!”
(screeching) Freaking Wesley gets up. I’m
like cheering. “Yes Wesley!” And he shoots me in the thigh. It didn’t even break, which hurts like ten times
worse when they don’t break! I just screamed! “Son of a Wesley!”
(screams) I turn back to tool bench. And it took me a second to realize that something celestial had happened. Every single shot, (chuckles) was an unequivocal direct hit. Now, because I fell to my
knee in proper Rambo stance, and because he was facing
the opposite direction, in a crouching position, like so. (laughing) I probably shot his butthole
like 30 to 35 times. I don’t even know to be exact. I freaking shot him like
30 to 35, maybe even 40. I don’t even know! (laughs) That had to hurt so bad!
(laughing) I knew I was a dead man
as soon as I (laughing) So I freaking, as nimble as possible, barrel roll out of this back to Wesley. And I go up and I grab
Wesley by the turtle-neck. And I’m like, “We gotta go! “We gotta go Wesley!” So we start tearing cheek
back to the holding pit where all the players are. About this time, tool bench
freaking comes walking up, grabbing his cheek. He started shouting, “Dammit! “Who!”
(screaming) He shoves the ref aside. “Someone shot me thirty times! “Who did this?” (laughing) “Who did this?! “Who did this!?” He walks up to every single player, and he just, he eyes them down. He’s out for blood! And he gets to me. And he’s just staring me down. He couldn’t see my face, cause it was concealed by the
blue tint of a paintball mask. But if he could see it, he would have seen a smile, that can only be created by a moment, that comes full freaking circle. Everybody’s had one of those moments. Were something happens
and you think back on it, and you’re like, (groan) Why didn’t I say that? That would have been the best! And you would have been
that freaking verbal hero. That you’re always meant to be! A shimmering knight of
the comeback sentence! This was that moment, except I said it
fourteen-year-old me, did it! I simply said look at him and I say, “Well, it looks like, “crap came back and bit you in the butt, mister.” It was perfect. It was perfections. That is all
(goofy inaudible speech) (laughing) That’s all I got. (laughing)

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