Today,I took my kid to a birthday party. It was held at a paintball field in the boondocks. Everyone was having a good time. To say the children beat the shit out of us is an understatement.

But it was about to get better.

After mixing it up with the kids for about three straight hours we all took a break. The referees checked every one before re-entering the safe area.

Then the Scooby Doo Mystery Van shows up. Seven pieces of beef jerky and two cankle queens prance out of a couple of Mini Coopers, a Jetta and a Bug. Lights camera action. Out come the camcorders and they proceed with their little mini-doc and wry commentary (“Deliverance” and The Wizard of Oz apparently was a big influence with these B-grade Roman Polanskis).

Anyway…they get their guns. They sign the waivers and in spite of the owner’s insistence they turn down protective vests and other protective gear (I quote the one genius: “It’s a paintball not a fucking hollow point). Of course what would the owner know, right? He’s only been doing this for 25 years. Goggles were mandatory.

While the owner is explaning the safety procedures, these clowns continue with the cliches (“Say hallo to mah lil fren!”).

I’m was amused. The rest of the dad’s were not.

The trustafarians look at the woods and are trying to choose teams. One of the dads quips, “hey – why don’t you guys go up against these kids? It’ll be fun!”

A couple of the douches look at the kids – sweaty, guns pointed down, wearing face masks, camos and protective gear”.

They’re wearing, sandals, sneakers, flip flops, t-shirts and shorts.

The guy laughs and says, “Yeah sure, why not?”

They walk out onto the field – high fiving each other – a heavily wooded area loaded withstrategically placed woodpiles, pallets, streams, plastic drums, etc.

The kids walk in. Lock and load…take a few practice shots…and the referees split the teams up and positions them.

One of the dads come up to us giggling like a little girl.

“C’mere…you gotta see this”.

The Ref counts down..3….2….1.!

The doofuses are walking slowly like they’re going to a club….guns down….you can’t see the kids (about 15 in all including three girls). All’s quiet on the hipster front

Suddenly this huge barrage of fire is unleashed from the kid’s side. Some of them are flanking the hipsters. Others are moving from position to position advancing on these cornholes.

And what do the pipe cleaners and Zoeys do? Stand there yelling while getting nailed – badly.

OWWW!!! JESUS!!! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!!! FUCK!!!!!!!OWWWW! OOOOWWWHOOOW! True the paintballs are not hollow points but they do travel at 200 MPH.

Of course the kids obeyed every rule. And if these obnoxious turds would have paid attention they would have learned an important piece of information: When you get hit – put your arms up and people stop shooting.

Obviously they were not paying attention.

Then the unexpected. I didn’t know they made paint grenades. Took me completely by surprise.
Pull the pins, lob them and upon impact they saturate a 10 foot area with paint. Instant hipster body art.

A few minutes later a bunch of third graders had completely circled thes clowns and they were shooting fish in a barrel.

the little bastards come out, strip down and hit the cooler.

Soy Latte Recon Six returns. completely drenched in paint, with the most delicious butthurt looks on their faces. A few of the pasty man-boys take off their shirts. They’re all covered with welts.

They complain to the owner who pretty much told them to fuck off.

All in all a good day.