Something moved in the distance.
I had just caught it in the corner of my eye as I was watching a squirrel in the tree next to me. I snapped my attention immediately and froze. Nothing stirred, nor made any sound; yet, I knew something was there. Had to have been. The tree limbs hanging across the trail were still swaying slightly. The natural sounds of the woods were silent for the moment, but my heart was a snare drum in my chest. Of course, one could easily excuse my momentary paranoia to a squirrel jumping from branch to branch. Except, I could swear that the dark blur I caught in my peripheral was roughly my size.
My nerves tingled across my body. I practically lived in the woods; I wasn't easily spooked by the natural denizens. Carefully, I surveyed the area with my ears as well as my eyes. If this was it, then let it be it. I wasn't going easily. Slowly, I raised the weapon gripped in my hand.
I wasn't going quietly either.
Suddenly, something rushed me from behind, but before I could react, I felt the press of a cold muzzle against the nape of my neck. I stopped cold and waited. No one gets that close to their target unless they wanted something.
"Say ello to ma lil friend!"
Of course it'd be my nephew. And doing a horrible Tony Montana impression to boot. He continued carrying on with more bad impressions, but I wasn't listening. The gun was there, but he clearly wasn't. Then, an idea struck me.
"Hey, Frank Caliendo, if your gonna keep talking would you at least shoot me first?"
"What?" He asked in his high pitched, nasally 'I can't believe you' voice that reminded me of Shorty on Scary Movie. "These are classics! Show some respect. ...And, who's Frank Calienté?"
I dropped my shoulders with a little more exaggeration than I intended, and let my weapon hand fall slack, but kept my free hand open out beside me.
"Seriously?" I asked, turning my head left, then right as I continued to speak. "You do impressions and you don't know..."
I felt the barrel slip off the back of my neck. In a flash I spun around and dropped, corkscrewing my legs while throwing out my free hand. I tried to knock his gun hand away as I fired three quick shots, but missed. Thankfully though, each shot landed in succession up along his ribcage.
"Ohhhh!" He cried in his ridiculous clown voice. He dropped to the ground and squirmed in an animated death throw. "Oh! My short wittle life!"
At that moment, the bushes behind me, where I saw the blur, rustled and his buddy came barreling out, firing at me. I tried to dodge and fire, but instead bought several hits across my chest.
"Ha-HAA! Gotcha anyway," my nephew sat up and declared triumphantly.
Well, at least he was talking in his own voice now.
Then suddenly he squealed and pointing overly dramatic behind me, "Wait!"
My niece ran across the trail with her finger squeezing the trigger of her rifle, and sprayed everything in the area. Including me.
But at least she got my nephew's buddy.
He stood there shot up his side, leg, and face and dropped his arms slack to his sides. "They won. ...Again."
"That's right, ball suckers!" She announced in full triumph.
"That's only 'cause we went easy on 'em," my nephew said as he stood up and brushed the leaves, dirt, and Splatterball paint off himself.
"Bull," I countered. "You two lost two out of three rounds."
"Cause I'm awesome!" My niece announced, then corrected, "We're awesome. You guys suck at your own game!"
"No, we. Let. You. Win!" My nephew enunciated.
"Whatever," I responded. I knew we beat them, and so did they. "Wanna put these splatter guns away and use paintball?"
"Naw," they all said.
"Those things hurt," my niece added.
"Wanna go again?" My nephew's buddy asked.
"Best of seven?" I asked. They agreed and we split up in two teams again. I motioned to my niece and said, "Come on, babe, lets spank em again!"
"They're gonna suck my balls!" She'll announced hoisting her Splatterball rifle.
I rolled my eyes. "So, I'm bait again?"
"Yup!"
