User blog comment:Gen.Cain/Paint ball stories/@comment-1260687-20100422002436

What followed was some of the most beautiful, well-choreographed poetry in motion I've experienced outside of watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith. We started ducking and shooting around each other and the tree like we'd practiced it our entire lives, dodging paint, sending it back, tossing and catching pods and magazines. Beautiful. We emptied our primaries into the rear party after dropping the first nine, and laid down a supressing fire as we hooked around 600 meters to their base, with the last few guys in hot pursuit. My gf climbed up a tree next to their shanty, and dropped into the flag room and shot the guard as I rushed the front door, shooting the guards, and taking their flag. The last run to the safe zone was reminiscent of the last moments of Behind Enemy ines, with our outed machine gunner suppressing and firing past us as we made our run to the flag, with paint flying past us in both directions as we swept in with both flags and won.