I recently went to visit my cousin’s home in Pennsylvania. It was a long car ride, and I was somewhat annoyed when I got out to stretch and was immediately hit square in the head with a plastic pellet. The pellet made me bleed. I went over to my brat cousin (five years younger than myself) and proceeded to yank his plastic gun from his hands, and snap it over my leg like a large twig.
My uncle was not impressed. However, my aunt slipped me a five-dollar-bill under the table at supper. My uncle brought it to my attention that I had broken his son’s newest toy, a spring airsoft gun.
Its purpose was, in my opinion at the time, to annoy passers-by with a quasi-legal non-lethal headshot. My opinion was changed, however, after my uncle loaded my cousin and myself in his truck and proceeded to a store where he bought two of the same gun I had snapped over my leg.
I thought they couldn’t be too much fun, but my uncle insisted that I “settle this” with my cousin. So, we put the guns in the back of the truck, and headed back to my cousin’s property, where I realized that a Counter-Strike-playing city-slicker like myself was missing out on so much by not playing airsoft. It’s basically like a shooting video game, but it’s in real life. I got my cousin good. Real good. This time, he tried breaking his own gun. But he wasn’t strong enough– so I laughed my head off, leaving welt after welt until I ran out of ammo. I went inside to find my jacket pocket missing five dollars.