Is there an echo in here, or was it that grenade?
I'm echoing Ghost_Rider's feelings about blanks here as I was subjected to a similar treat yesterday. (woohoo)
After a great skirmish, a mate playfully chucked a grenade at my feet, thinking - in my elated post-skirmish state - that he was chucking it over to check it out I stooped down to pick it up. Barely were my fingers within 12 inches from it and it went off, a 12-bore blank delicately traced my earlobes and soothingly ruptured my very eardrum, nervous system, brain and underwear, in that order.
Ok well I didn't actually soil myself, which was nice, but despite the fact I found it hilarious that I was dim enough to try and pick up a grenade, it was still a bloody funny thing to do to someone all by itself. Consequentially, I plan on getting a few of the very same toys with which to hurl at the enemy come the new year's games.
As for the actual day's skirmishing? Well all shall be revealed soon: I am happy to say though that I have found a new brand of honour....
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