I Shot a Vegetarian

Hey, c’mon. It was ONE vegetarian. It’s not like I clubbed a baby seal or anything. Geesh. And HE started it. And anyway, what’s a non-meat eating, hemp-wearing, bearded, nature dork doing participating in paintball anyway? And why would he challenge a proud carnivore? What was he thinking? And believe me; I took no pleasure in it. Really. No, REALLY……Ha! Who am I kidding? I dug the hell out of it!

So here’s what happened…some buddies asked me if I wanted to do a little paintball combat and I reluctantly agreed because these three numbskulls have a history of consuming way too much alcohol, and then wind up getting me seriously injured during the process. My previous participation with them has resulted in broken ribs, a snapped ACL, and waking up completely naked duct-taped to a tree. Why would I want to risk that again?… ‘cause those were the best times of my life! And what’s the sense of having medical insurance if you don’t take advantage of it once in a while?

We show up at this massive outdoor paintball park (late as usual), and we’re told that we can’t get out onto the field for a while because it’s so crowded. We figured that this might happen, so on the way we stopped off and got a sack full of burgers to eat while we wait. Plus we replaced our drinks with bourbon prior to coming in so we didn’t mind partaking in a little lunch before engaging in warfare. We go sit down in a crowd of guys waiting to get in and just as I take the first big bite of my burger I hear someone behind me say, “That’s disgusting!” I turn around and I’m staring at a skinny version of Zach Galifianakis who is looking back at me and sadly shaking his head. I give him a nod, squint my eyes and use my best Deniro; “You talkin’ to me?”

Oh, he was talkin’ to me alright. For the next forty-five minutes I got a vegetarian dissertation on the cruelty of the cattle industry, and how feed was chemically laced with steroids and growth hormones, how eating animals was immoral, blah, blah, blah. And as if on cue, as soon as Mr. Natural was finished, our names were called for the next group to go out—and guess who was included on that list? Mr. Natural!

However, I didn’t expect what happened next (although I should have). As they were dividing us into opposing teams of eight, my so-called friends jumped ship and teamed up with Mr. Natural’s side! Traitors! Oh, revenge is going to be soooo sweet….

So after each team gets out on the field a horn is sounded and the game of ‘Capture the Flag’ is on!  Normally this is a dead run by both sides to get to the middle first but on this occasion the flag was hidden and each side had been given a map to find it. This required more stealth and planning so I volunteered to go out as a scout in hopes of running into either one of my traitorous buddies and blasting them into oblivion. And just as I was slowly creeping up over a ridge who do I see? Mr. Natural! He was all alone and waiting behind a big rock next to a dirt path. I sprung up behind him and blasted him with a barrage of welt- producing paintballs that caused him to roll up into the fetal position and scream like a little girl! Take that you grass-munching vega wimp! Ba-zing! Victory!!!

…uh, sorta. It was a trap! My three idiot friends used Mr. Natural like a goat tied to a tree and then proceeded to jump up from behind bushes and shoot me with more paint than I used on my house! Bastards! I ended up looking like Sonny Corleone at a tollbooth. It felt as though I was being pelted with golf balls at a driving range.

So yeah, I shot a vegetarian. And paid dearly for it! (I won’t go into detail but I may never be able to father a child.) It seems that even when I’m minding my own business, vegetarians become harmful to my health. And they possess the power to turn friend against friend. So watch out, all you mind-melding carrot crunchers. And take heed. Right now the score is even. It’ll be a while before I get over this little incident, so keep your distance. And don’t forget…

I’ll be back!