NERF GUNS AT HIGH NOON – AN EPIC BATTLE – 2017

I find myself coming to a crossroads in my journey to shake the cobwebs from this failing mind, and to keep my memories chronological in order. Rather, I am now experiencing flashbacks to times and stories that appear more random in sequence. In trying to keep an order to my stories and memories, I have arrived at a point where inspiration is alluding me. I have sat and pondered about how I might proceed from this point. But, can only come up with the idea of just letting my thoughts drift, and then posting the resultant images, as they flash (or flutter) by.

Often, I have said, that the failing mind is a beautiful thing, and mine is becoming more beautiful as time passes. I have decided, after consultation with a couple of my other personalities, to give this new method a try. Unless I am greeted with howls of protest by my loyal readers, I will go with this new plan for now. As a test case, I offer this next short story. It relates to my grandchildren and a moment I had with them in 2017. Deysi and I had occasion to visit the kids while their parents were away, for a short period of time. They had asked us to come and spend time during their absence and keep their cat fed.

Lord knows it was not babysitting. They were far too old for that. M would have died if she thought her mom and dad had asked us to sit them. At that advanced stage of her life! My god she must have just turned 16 years old at that time. Anyway, I think her parents told her that they were sending us over, so she could look after us in our old age. And make sure no mishaps befell us. Either side of this story is possible. So, let’s just say that events thrust us together for a few short days. Suffice it to say that Deysi and I were excited; the kids, perhaps, less so.

Things are going as planned. After politely listening to my babble for their required hour, they wandered off to their own space. “My isn’t this fun Deysi”? She just gives me a patient look and says, “yes dear, so much fun. I’m so happy that I got to listen to some more of your stories again”. I can’t tell if she is sincere, but I do detect a slight hint of sarcasm in her tone. I lay back on the couch, close my eyes and drift away. Soon, I feel a presence close by and open my eyes to ol’ Benhameen standing in front of me. He was patiently waiting for me to show signs of life.

He looks at me and says “grampa do you want to play a game with me”? I’m like, “yes, hell yes, whaddyawanna play”? He goes, “come downstairs and I’ll show you”. I bound up and am halfway to the stairs when gramma brings me up short. “Remember” she admonishes, “Benhameen is still a little boy and you are a big lout, so you take it easy on him! You let him win sometimes! Don’t you make me come down there; you hear?” So, tail between my legs I slink off to find the game.

Benhameen is patiently waiting for me. He has a row of Nerf guns lined up along with about 50 bullets. I had a flashback to many Christmas’ and birthdays’ past. He also has full protective clothing and headgear ready and waiting. It was at this point that I should have run and hid. But no, I’m fully into it by now and can’t wait to find out which of these weapons of doom are for me. My grandson in an uncharacteristic display of fair-play says, “grampa you can choose any of these guns, and however many you want.”

Rubbing my hands, I scoop up a half dozen of the meanest looking, hi-tech pieces that I can grab. I left for him the most ineffective looking pieces. I said, “ok Benhameen, which ones are you going to use”? He reaches down behind the couch and pulls out a fearsome looking high tech replica of new-age warfare weaponry. This is my second chance to run. Instead I say, “hold it, why didn’t I have a choice of that piece?” “Grampa”, says Benhameen, “this one is only for me to use, but after all you have 6 of the best guns of my collection!”

Warning alarms are going off in my mind. I feel a trickle of sweat crawl down my backbone but am now committed to this game. He now expounds on the rules, which are basically; I get one end of the room and a couch to hide behind, while he gets the other end and nothing much to hide behind. Once both parties shout ready, shots are exchanged and the the winner of each round is declared by successfully scoring a hit on the other player, in the head or torso, with a shot. Easy right? I’ll try to take it easy on the little fella.

I crouch down in my hiding place, load all of my weapons, holler out, “I’m ready” and Benhameen says “Go”! From hiding, I unleash a barrage of rapid fire shot, which make it about 1/2 way to my target and then fizzle out to the floor. My weapon makes a kinda “pppppffffftttt” sound, that didn’t seem too inspiring in its forcefulness. I quickly change weapons and unleash another barrage. This time I am aiming at the ceiling about 1/2 way to my opponent, hoping to land one of my shots on his head. He is bopping around and easily dodging my shots.

I take a peek over the top of my hideout, look cautiously for him, hear a CCcccraaaaK, see a bright flash and wwwaappp! Something hits me right between the “horns”, mid forehead. Now I see stars and feel pain. Geezus how much can a sponge nerf bullet, hurt. Well I guess at 200 feet a second it feels kinda like a stone. I’m now crouched down behind my hiding place as his followup shots ricochet off the top of the couch a couple of inches from my head. Too late I now realize that I have been suckered into a game that I am unlikely to win. I cautiously peer out once more, only this time I have an angry red “nerf bullet size” welt in the middle of my forehead.

Great just what he needs, a target. I let out a couple more ppppffffftttt’s with little effect, and then zzzappp, another sponge ball bounces off my head. Now I’m fully concealed and afraid to even peek over or around the couch. I have no idea where he is, and am now a complete hostage behind the couch. I’m yelling out for a “timeout”, but to no avail. He is not responding and will only say, “this round’s not over yet”. I now start yelling for Deysi or my granddaughter M., both of whom, are now ignoring me; M having played this game once before. She knows what I’m in for and has no immediate plan for rescuing me.

Now I can hear him approaching the centre line and the no-go zone. He picks out a piece of my body, that is overlapping my hideout and carefully sinks another laser-like shot into my arm. I jump up and get one square in the chest and another off the side of my head. I’m yelling for help to no avail. Finally he says, “ok this round’s over, gather up your bullets and get ready for round two. The score is now 5 to 0, for me. You need to shoot better, grampa!”

So prior to the start of round two, I introduce some more rules. The first being that I get the special gun and he can have all of the rest, during the next round. Well he’s having none of this and threatens to quit playing if he doesn’t get his gun. I try to explain fairness in gaming to him, the art of sharing, respect for the elderly, and even a throw in a little bit of begging. All of this falls on deaf ears, and only makes him more resolved, to not let me put my hands on his special weapon. We are now at an impasse, which he then resolves by stomping off upstairs and telling Deysi on me. I’m now a bully, selfish and have to have everything my own way.

Hold it, I’m the only one with welts on my body after playing with the little tyke. Not only that, I now have to suffer a full round of verbal abuse from Deysi and finally have to leave the games room completely defeated, both mentally and physically. Could my life get any worse? Just wait! Now enters our granddaughter, armed with a new board game and in her best syrupy voice asks, “grampa and gramma shall we play a game”? Another opportunity for me to run and hide, but oh no! Not me. I just say, “sure sweetheart, can you just teach us the rules?” Like a spider spinning a web she smoothes out, “it’s real easy, I’ll just explain as we go along”. Out comes the game and we’re ready for war. Let the games begin!

Almost immediately, I can see that this game is one of those; where building allegiances and convincing others to sacrifice for you, are going to be key (like my most hated of all games, Risk). Within seconds, I know how this game will go. It’ll be 3 against one, with the little spider M, quickly drawing Benhameen and Deysi into her sticky little web. This type of game is one of my pet peeves in gaming. The only skill and strategy being, to identify your most dangerous opponent and get the rest of the players to gang-up with you against him or her.

After my most recent abuse of Benhameen with the nerf guns (and still sporting my badge of honour in the middle of my forehead), it is readily apparent that I will be the most hated player at this table. M, the sweet little thing wastes no time in pointing out my faults to the other two. However, with steely resolve I plow deeply into this game. I am battling three, I do not know the rules and the same rules are used against me at every turn to thwart my best moves. It seems like for every great move I make, M has a convenient new rule, with which to thwart it.

Now, this may have been a complete coincident, however for as many rules that appeared to thwart me, an equal number appeared in support of similar moves, by the other players. I keep my opinion of these convenient rules to myself and in the spirit of good sportsmanship, stay very positive and encouraging to the others. Congratulating them wildly, for each and every new move and new rule that they found with which too stymy my natural gaming abilities. Using pure instinct, steely resolve, and animal street smarts, I thwart all efforts at taking me down.

At a crucial part of the game, when Benhameen has a great opportunity to put some serious hurt on his big sister, thereby vaulting me into the lead, he looks over just as M lets a big old salty tear (the size of a pearl) roll down her cheek and lays a major sympathy card at Benhameen’s feet. He can shoot me full of holes with his rocket powered nerf gun, then tell gramma on me, but one big ol’ tear from his sister turns this little hard ass into a snivelling pile of kid meat. He then plays his card against me and I am gone from the game! Geezus. I look over at M and she has a little glint in her eye and a sly smile that she lays on me.

I bolt from the table swearing to never return (all the while congratulating the others for destroying me for the second time this visit). We have only been there 6 hours by this time, and I am drained. Well, as you can guess, M has debilitated the other two players and quickly dispatches Benhameen and finally Deysi from the game. Her web is complete. The three of them all feel as winners, however both M and I know who truly won. The preceding tale is exactly as I remember it, completely true and told without prejudice!