anomoly40
02-18-2008, 03:20 AM
Ok I apoligize for that title. But I have to tell you a story. It should make any mag-lover feel good inside. You might even tip your waitress' a little extra and gladly tell her you shoot a mag. This is a story of legends, a story better than that of Bobby Dukes, only because it was done with a mag and had nothing to do with me cheating. This is a story similar to the little engine that could, a story similar to David and Goliath, a story similar to a Festiva beating a Mustang, yeah that's bada**. This is how the story begins...
Sunday, February 17th in the year of our Lord two thousand and eight, a couple of tournament teams were practicing. Our hero of the story began the day with a Marq6, after a couple of games he noticed that the marq did not like to shoot whole paintballs. He then switched to his 06 Cyborg with the same results. After cleaning the markers several times, he grew tired of taking little screws out and fumbling with wire harness'. He then decided to wander the fields, stumbling upon a group of kids playing speedball. All of these kids had rental markers, vests, and were blind shooting but that wasn't what stopped him. What had caught his attention was the children's facial expressions and their general happiness. They were getting shot at and they were having fun. Their guns weren't messing up, if they were these kids didn't seem to care.
This made our hero, anomoly40, sad. Wishing he could have fun in this game of paintball again. He started sobbing. He started to get mad. He looked to the heavens and screamed "WHY!", scaring the lady with the nachos sitting near him. Then he remembered. "Could I have?" he asked himself. He hopped up, and ran to his gear bag, looked inside, and the answer was clear. "Yes, I did. I packed it.", he said while picking up a 68 Classic and a Lapco Bigshot. But then he realized how long it had been since he had aired it up, surely there were bad orings or something, he thought as he unscrewed the tank off his Cyborg. To his suprise, there were none.
"Hey! Get your stuff, we're going again." said his team mate, as he tightened the top elbow screw around his gravity fed hopper. He threw a pod into the hopper, grabbed his mask and allen keys and headed to chrono his old friend. It'd been a while and the marker was just proud to be shot, first shot was high. "Come on now, you remember it's 280. Don't let those electros get to you." Hero said. A little turn of the wrench and she was back down showing them what consistant ment.
He walked onto the field, they were in awe. It wasn't pink or orange or ninja black, it was flat gray. They had never heard of Lapco before. Who uses single triggers anymore? They were all looking at him, staring, laughing. No one wanted to be on the team with the Mag.
"3, 2, 1, GO! GO! GO!" Running, sliding, shooting. POOM POOM POOM POOM. 1 down. POOM POOM POP POP POP! He had forgotten he was in the shake and bake world now. A world of manual agitation. POOM POOM POOM POOM POOM. 2 were gone now. Run, slide. After a gun battle and a little kung-foolery, the third was shot.
He walked off the field, they were in awe. It wasn't pink or orange or ninja black, it was flat gray. They had never seen that before. Who can use a single trigger like that anymore? They were staring at them, laughing. An entire team had fallen to the Mag.
Sunday, February 17th in the year of our Lord two thousand and eight, a couple of tournament teams were practicing. Our hero of the story began the day with a Marq6, after a couple of games he noticed that the marq did not like to shoot whole paintballs. He then switched to his 06 Cyborg with the same results. After cleaning the markers several times, he grew tired of taking little screws out and fumbling with wire harness'. He then decided to wander the fields, stumbling upon a group of kids playing speedball. All of these kids had rental markers, vests, and were blind shooting but that wasn't what stopped him. What had caught his attention was the children's facial expressions and their general happiness. They were getting shot at and they were having fun. Their guns weren't messing up, if they were these kids didn't seem to care.
This made our hero, anomoly40, sad. Wishing he could have fun in this game of paintball again. He started sobbing. He started to get mad. He looked to the heavens and screamed "WHY!", scaring the lady with the nachos sitting near him. Then he remembered. "Could I have?" he asked himself. He hopped up, and ran to his gear bag, looked inside, and the answer was clear. "Yes, I did. I packed it.", he said while picking up a 68 Classic and a Lapco Bigshot. But then he realized how long it had been since he had aired it up, surely there were bad orings or something, he thought as he unscrewed the tank off his Cyborg. To his suprise, there were none.
"Hey! Get your stuff, we're going again." said his team mate, as he tightened the top elbow screw around his gravity fed hopper. He threw a pod into the hopper, grabbed his mask and allen keys and headed to chrono his old friend. It'd been a while and the marker was just proud to be shot, first shot was high. "Come on now, you remember it's 280. Don't let those electros get to you." Hero said. A little turn of the wrench and she was back down showing them what consistant ment.
He walked onto the field, they were in awe. It wasn't pink or orange or ninja black, it was flat gray. They had never heard of Lapco before. Who uses single triggers anymore? They were all looking at him, staring, laughing. No one wanted to be on the team with the Mag.
"3, 2, 1, GO! GO! GO!" Running, sliding, shooting. POOM POOM POOM POOM. 1 down. POOM POOM POP POP POP! He had forgotten he was in the shake and bake world now. A world of manual agitation. POOM POOM POOM POOM POOM. 2 were gone now. Run, slide. After a gun battle and a little kung-foolery, the third was shot.
He walked off the field, they were in awe. It wasn't pink or orange or ninja black, it was flat gray. They had never seen that before. Who can use a single trigger like that anymore? They were staring at them, laughing. An entire team had fallen to the Mag.