virtual bloodshed

Okay.  The day is done, the drive is over, checked into the hotel and what do we do next, boys and girls?  That's right.  We kill each other.  Over and over and over.  And then we gloat over each others dead bodies and heckle and jab and insult each other for about two hours as we spill each others blood...

Digitally.

Our combat of choice is the European theatre of World War II, sometimes the African theatre and occasionally we'll even go as far as Stalingrad or Leningrad as Allies and Germans battle it out over small objectives.  Spawn. Kill. Die. Respawn. Kill. Die.  It's not history, but it sure is fun.

Epic team battles.  Glorious one on one showdowns.  Hand to hand faceoffs. Calculated strategy meets brash arrogance and desperate last stands.  In the name of what, you ask?  Why, friendship, of course.  Why else? 

This is our favorite pastime.  At the end of all the outrage and insults, the cheering and indignation; we laugh and high-five and usually say, "well, okay. Just one more.  THIS ONE'S FOR EVERYTHING!!!"  And do it all again.  Honestly, I think it's how we stay friends.  We take out a little frustration with some good competition and blow off some steam.  We may disagree about various things during the day and get on each other's nerves but after we brutally slaughter each other for a while it's all fine. 

The only exception to our friendship is Matt Fuqua.  Matt Stinking Fuqua. 

Puke on his head.  May dogs poop on his toothbrush.  He's too freaking good!  Ridiculously fast.  Unbelievably accurate.  He vexes me... I am truly vexed.  I'm getting more and more bitter as the days pass.  I see him on the other side of the stage and my blood begins to boil.  I think Josh and Marc feel it too.  We exchange knowing glances.  The plotting will begin soon.  Who gives a rip about friendship when our dignity is on the line?

Comments

[Rachel Lauffer]

Wow..... this is so.....
entirely guy-ish. Yep, it is. Thats all I can say.