My Shirt Covered with Paint that would not Wash Out

I turned quickly, and when I saw two of the opponents firing at me, I dived away just in time. Paint sprayed the tree against which I had rested just moments before. I rolled farther away as the other guys rushed towards my position. I fired towards them to slow them down as I made good my escape.

I had come to the paintball arena with six of my friends. We had always been the winner in this particular arena as no opponent had ever beaten us. This day was proving to be different. We had beaten this particular team about four or five times before, but after each defeat, they always vowed to defeat us in the next game.

Now, they were giving us a run for our money. Immediately the game started, they had bombarded us with several paintball shots. First, it was a paintball grenade which was launched in our midst before everyone had gone to their positions as planned. Four of us managed to escape the blast of paint, but the remaining two were not as lucky.

Hank, who was supposed to be our sniper was going to his position when he was peppered with paint from the opponent’s sniper. It was a big blow because we had placed a lot of faith on Hank’s abilities. He was always our secret weapon, our Plan B for when the plan A didn’t work.

His job was to provide cover for us, and keeping the opponents at bay while we flanked them and massacred them with paintball. However, we had no plan B, and our first plan seems to be in shambles. It was at that point that we realized that our plans had somehow fallen into the hands of our opponents, perhaps through eavesdropping and they were now using the information against us fully.

The rest of us started damage control, and we tried our best to dodge paint and try to shoot down the opponents. Our first target was the sniper. If we don’t take him out of the picture, it was highly certain that we may not be able to survive for long.

We used the paintball grenade that we had to get the sniper out of his hiding place. It was a wonderful tactic which worked well, but the problem was that the third guy with us was hit by the other members of the opponents’ team. That left only two of us against five of them.

The remaining five didn’t waste much time as they began to bombard our positions with paint. We managed to evade all the paint as we darted in a zig-zag pattern, trying to make it hard for them to get us. As we ran, we also tried to shoot back at them, but we couldn’t hit any of them.

Then we realized that they were flanking and surrounding us. It was over, we knew it. However, one of my favorite sayings was that if there is life, there is hope. In this case, as long as we haven’t been hit yet, and even though there were only two of us left, we could still win. All we needed was the right strategy.

Another paint grenade landed close to me. I picked up very quickly and flung it back towards the opponents’ area. That was when I saw that there were two grenades. I ran as fast I had ever run and dived just as the two grenades exploded within seconds of each other.

I was getting tired of running, and I just wanted to walk over to the opponent’s area with my hands raised and wait for them to shoot at me.

I looked over at Jack whose location was very far from where I was. I had a plan that would make us win the battle and keep our record intact. However, it would require one of us sacrificing himself so that the other can complete the mission.

I had to go over to him and tell him the plan. I signaled to him, but it took a few minutes for him to get that I was telling him to cover me while I ran over to his side. He gave a sign that he understood and when I stood up, he laid a covering fire for me.

Soon, I got to his position, and we were very happy to see each other. “What are we going to do? We are in soup!” he said.

I stared at him for a while and then told him about my plan. He was flabbergasted. He volunteered for the suicide mission, but I told him that since it was the plan, I had to go. I knew what to do. All I needed was for him to do his own job well. I finally managed to convince him, and we were good to go.

I carried two grenades, and my gun rose up suddenly and ran screaming towards the remaining five opponents who were not together, probably planning something bad for us. I threw the first grenade, and when they scattered, I opened the second grenade and dived towards three of them who were together.

The two grenades exploded, and the one in my hand caught the three guys and me. Thankfully, Jack was able to gun down the remaining two guys, and our record remained intact. The other guys were furious, saying it was not fair but we ignored them.

When I got home, I got the shock of my life. I realized that my shirt was covered with paint, obviously from the grenade explosion. Before beginning the paintball battle, we would put on some protective attire over our clothes. However, the grenade must have penetrated the protective attire and gotten through to my shirt.

I loved the shirt, and it was like my lucky shirt. I had purchased it just a month before. I took it to the laundry room in my building and tried my best to wash the paint off to no avail. After trying to wash it off for the sixth time, I gave up and decided to use the shirt for paintball games.

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