I'm back from New Years. My college pals and I pick a random city every year to celebrate it in, and this year was Salt Lake. We saw the travelling Jackass tour, a lot of Mormon statues, and the friendly SLC police were nice enough to escort us to every single thing we did after 11 pm. One night we bought breakfast for this drunk one-legged dude we found in a bar and on the way, the police asked us if we were just in a fight two blocks back. I was too drunk to say no, so I told him that four suspicious men have been tearing the legs off of Indians. So the men he's looking for will not only have all their legs, but some in addition to that.
At the Utah Fun Dome, we were involved in a life or death laser tag struggle. We were working out our strategies when we heard a huge fat guy from the other team say, "See we're missionaries so we have to wear these white shirts! We're sure easy to see!" After I bled out of my ears and eyes, I stopped our discussion and told them all previous plans were obsolete - our mission is to now kill that Mormon missionary.
He was wandering through the maze chatting, because laser tag is as good a time as any to convert sinners. I snuck up behind him, stuck my head through a window, and killed him 7 times before he could slosh his body around to see what happened. Then he said, "Hey, that's not fair!" And I swear to god, somewhere in there he said something like, "DER deeDOO!" In my bloodlust, the only thing I thought to scream back was, "FATTY!"
On the way back to recharge my laser gun, I noticed his two missionary friends were betrayed by their savage god and their suits started malfunctioning. Their vests were just blinking and beeping randomly as they wandered around and loudly complained how broken they were. One of them was so busy doing that that he ran his face into my shoulder. I considered this an unconfirmed kill. When I got back to the base, I told the little kids on our team that when they go back out there, they need to watch out for the enemy's secret weapon - Festive-Colored Battering Ram Mormons. But Mormon kids are just as stupid as Mormon adults, so they just looked at me like I ordered them to stand still and stare confusedly at me.
The final victory was with the Mormons, though. Their awful liquor and food poisoning combined to make me puke in not only the hotel, but most of our country's terrorist-free airports between here and Utah.
At the Utah Fun Dome, we were involved in a life or death laser tag struggle. We were working out our strategies when we heard a huge fat guy from the other team say, "See we're missionaries so we have to wear these white shirts! We're sure easy to see!" After I bled out of my ears and eyes, I stopped our discussion and told them all previous plans were obsolete - our mission is to now kill that Mormon missionary.
He was wandering through the maze chatting, because laser tag is as good a time as any to convert sinners. I snuck up behind him, stuck my head through a window, and killed him 7 times before he could slosh his body around to see what happened. Then he said, "Hey, that's not fair!" And I swear to god, somewhere in there he said something like, "DER deeDOO!" In my bloodlust, the only thing I thought to scream back was, "FATTY!"
On the way back to recharge my laser gun, I noticed his two missionary friends were betrayed by their savage god and their suits started malfunctioning. Their vests were just blinking and beeping randomly as they wandered around and loudly complained how broken they were. One of them was so busy doing that that he ran his face into my shoulder. I considered this an unconfirmed kill. When I got back to the base, I told the little kids on our team that when they go back out there, they need to watch out for the enemy's secret weapon - Festive-Colored Battering Ram Mormons. But Mormon kids are just as stupid as Mormon adults, so they just looked at me like I ordered them to stand still and stare confusedly at me.
The final victory was with the Mormons, though. Their awful liquor and food poisoning combined to make me puke in not only the hotel, but most of our country's terrorist-free airports between here and Utah.
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Now what's a brotha gotta do to get his ass a modelin' contract around here? *suck suck suck*
SPACEWHORES!!!!!!!!!
always a blast, my friend.