|We all have our favourite games, our favourite maneuvers, and our favourite horror stories from ESS games. So, in the style of Chaucer...
So, a couple of days ago a few of my friends and myself decided to break out the survivor shot guns and start playing again. We have 6.
Anyway, if it wasn’t for your mods page we would have had someone shaking their gun for a restart every other shot. Thanks for that.
Also, discussing the hunter game you were talking about in your rules section. We play a game called “pig”. Basically the same set of rules but the “pig” is allowed to do anything in order to win the game, aside from resetting his/her gun. We even have a specific gun the “pig” has to use. We keep hash marks on the side for every time “pig” wins.
Figured I would share one of our funniest stories with you guys while I was here too. We decided to play a game of pig one night and one of players, much like your trash talking teen, decided he wanted to be pig because he thought he was better than the other 5 of us put together. We agreed, gave him the pig gun, and sent him on his way, giving him his 5 minute head start. After 5 min we radioed him to tell him that we were setting the hounds loose and told him we hoped he was ready. I’m sure he replied with some sort of trash talk but it’s been so long I can’t remember exactly. Anyway, 30-45 minutes go by and no one has found him yet and as everyone that plays knows, once you hear that first hit everyone in the area comes running. Well, we hear the first hit. We all haul ass around behind a building we used to play around and we see one of our teammates aiming up into a tree. Can you believe it? In a game where it takes six hits to go out this guy hid in a tree. And not just on the first branch, he had to be 25-30 feet of the ground. So by now it’s five on one with the one being in a tree and having no where to go. He decided to make his move and try to get away. On his descent from the tree he lost his grip with his free hand because we didn’t want to let the gun go, fell about 5 feet and caught himself on a lower branch with his legs. The sudden stop forced the gun out of his hand but he had his helmet on so tight that it stayed on. So he’s hanging there, upside down, with a gun hanging from his head, and he’s trying to reach the gun instead of pulling the cord to him. We all stood and stared for about 5 minutes just laughing our asses off. Finally he says, “Hey guys, how about a little help.” We helped our friend down from the tree, but not before we took turns taking shots at him.
I think it was that game that made us realize that pig was never going to have a legit shot at winning a game. So, pig became more about survival time. We started keeping a stop watch from when we started looking to when he was found just to have a record of it. Longest game so far, 4 and half hours. One guy hid on the side of a bluff and since none of us where crazy enough to jump off it we never found him.
This is technically a Green Team Tale, but Colin was just too awesome for this NOT to be his tale!
So, the Red Team decided to set up over the hill next to the church. The Green Team was oblivious to this fact and decided, at the last minute, to move from Trinity Crossing to the tool shed behind the church. As we approached the hill to climb down, we heard voices just over the hill.
So, the game started and we split. Some went left, some right, and Colin headed for the trees just at the edge of the hill. Here is the Red Team's side of the story:
"We turned our guns on and counted the ten seconds like we were supposed to and just kind of sat there going, "OK, we can go now." And then y'all were all over us! And I saw Colin out of the corner of my eye on the top of the hill, right over our base, and he FLEW, like Michael Jordan (insert Michael Jordan finger air walk here), over the flag, grabbing it as he did so, then hit the ground running! It was so beautiful, I couldn't shoot him."
To quote from Ferris Beuller's Day Off, "Colin Hyper Monkey! You're my hero!"
And, to quote Asian Menace #6, "Colin rocks!"
So, after a long Spring Workday building bridges, cleaning trails, and general maintenance of the summer camp site we know as Trinity, Team NightForce showed up to play a game against the Trinity Woods Summer Camp Junior Counselors and Staff. NightForce was terribly outnumbered, perhaps two to one. During the first game of the evening, I was taken out of the game by friendly fire. As I entered the graveyard, I discovered that I was not the first one dead, as I suspected. JC Kit Kat was already there! She turned to me and said, "I know we outnumber you, but, how many of you are there?! You guys are EVERYWHERE!"
Two teams, 15 Cub Scouts each, one team red, one team green, separated by maybe 100 yards of open field and scattered trees and scrub. A clear night on the ground, cloud cover up above. A red base; a green base. First game of the evening. Green team is lying on the ground. The signal is given for all guns to turn on. Instantly, lots of beeps, followed closely by the multiple beeps form the other team, just a tad later due to the fact that sound travels, but not instantaneously. From my left, I hear the awed voice of a 10-year-old say, "Look at all those lights!" Followed, as if an echo, by the voice of another awed ten-year-old boy from the red team, "Look at all those lights!"
ROC and I were driving home from the Boy Scout trip and he was saying to me, "I don't know who was having more fun, the parents or the kids. One of the fathers was having the best time shooting all the kids even after he was dead. I told him he was cheating and the dad said, 'I know, but I'm having way too much fun to stop.' " I know... set an example.
This is the earliest of the tales. Neel had given two guns to Seer for Christmas. I had taken two guns up when visiting Seer. The three of us went out to Neel's grandmother's cow pasture to play. It's huge! A lake and two big hills, a barn and the farm house. Neel told us to stay off one of the hills because of the telephone pole at the top of it. Seer and I were chasing Neel across the top of that hill. All Seer and I saw was a little red light bouncing across the crest. Then the light stopped abruptly, leapt three or four feet into the air, and landed on the ground with a loud, "SHIT!" Seer yelled, "Neel! You okay?" The response is predictable: "No!" Seer and I took off running, then stopped. I turned to Seer and asked, "Is Neel the kind of person to do this just to trick us into coming closer so he could ambush us?" Seer didn't answer me. Instead, he yelled to Neel: "Are you lying to us?" "No! I'm hurt." We ran. Neel had run full throttle into the tension wire holding the telephone pole up. He had hit so hard that his glasses had folded in half and he had a huge gash across his forehead. To top it all off, Neel had slid into two cow patties in his efforts to stay mobile and had smeared the nutrient-rich goo into his Levis. Ooooooo. We didn't play anymore that night.
Drin and Patrick had been forced to retreat back to their home base. They were the only surviving members of their team. Syn had managed to sneak in behind them while in stealth mode and began to shoot. Syn annihilated Patrick in a matter of moments. Drin looked around, but could not find him. Drin began to back up still more and ran into a large piece of playground equipment, to which he responded, "Ooo. Big log!" It was fun.
Overkill has become a veteran of ESS, but one of his earliest adventures emphasized the need for a flashlight and Croakies brand eyeglass holders. OK was hiding behind a dirt pile, but could not get away from the fire of two opponents. He decided to ambush both of them. He made a Rambo roll over the pile of dirt, landing between two opposing team members. He was toast. He was blind toast, for, as he Rambo rolled, he lost his glasses. Overkill, however, did not notice he was blind for another five minutes. No. He continued to run and shoot and dodge and die, then realized he was blind. "Why can't I see anything?" We then spent the next twenty minutes with two flashlights and one car's headlights searching the park for OK's glasses. Mycroft and her trusty Mini-Maglite found them.
Mycroft, Syn, Drin, Dak, and Crowley were playing in the park. After several obscene gestures from potential sexual mistakes (teenagers trying to park in the park), a police car drove into the combat zone. He drove right past Crowley. He didn't look twice at Dak. He ignored Syn and didn't even bother to drive near Drin. No, the policeman drove right up to the light pole that was Mycroft's hiding place. She slowly (and I emphasize SLOWLY) moved away from the pole, arms extended in a gesture of friendship, if you were to ignore the large green gun in her hand. The officer asked who she was, did she have any ID, what she was doing, who was with her, and if she knew the park closed at 11:00 PM. She answered correctly to all those questions. At least, we assume so; she came away unscathed. Then the officer walked over to his car and just before he got in it, turned and said, "You probably need to find a new hiding place."
File #12: "Why you Runnin'?"
Here's an exciting story from our front:
We were playing in a private parking garage in downtown Southfield, MI. Eventually, we got around to playing a "Hunter" version of the game, wherein 3 of us had single shot/narrow beam (the hunters) and Robbie had wide beam and full auto setting (the hunted). The parking garage was an awesome battlescape. Robbie took to the elevators. Try to imagine the looks execs gave him as he stood next to them with a flashing green thingie on his head. OK, so eventually the parking security guards (the proud, the stupid) caught up to us. The first one was an old geezer in a car. Everyone's Grandpa. He actually let us continue playing once we convinced him that the guns didn't actually shoot laser beams. It was when we were all separated that the REAL guards got to us. A security Honda pulled up next to Anders and I. The guard told us to get in his car, he was going to drive us to our car and then we had to get the "hail" out of there. Well, no one could find Robbie or Joe. Anders and I waited with three guards and two patrol cars as some more foot soldiers went looking for the other two perps. The first to come down was Robbie. Apparently, Robbie spotted a security guard and thought it was one of us, so he started running. The guard pursued and caught up to Robbie and grabbed him. "Why you runnin'?" He asked. Robbie said "I wasn't running!" And then the guard said "Then why you breathing so hard!" To which Robbie replied "Well, I WAS running just a second ago during the game, but now I'm not." A while later, the same guard came down the ramp holding a bewildered Joey by the arm. I informed the not-quite-an-officer-of-the-law that he had to release his grip on Joe. They took our license plate number down. Professionals. We never returned to that parking garage again, but parking garages continue to be our favorite places to play.
...What you said about knowing your territory when playing at night is true. I went over to a friend's house and about six of us played together. My friend's house has a huge back yard. It goes into the woods. So, anyway, I was running to get someone when, bam, right into a cactus.
One fall night, my friends and I were playing a game of ESS at a new battlefield, my friend Vince's house. We had walkie-talkies to communicate. I was talking with my friend while he was running around the back. Suddenly, I heard a crash over the walkie-talkie. I ran around to see my friend submerged up to his neck in water. My first words were, "Is the gun okay?" My friend had valiantly tossed the gun out of the water. We were able to take it apart and fix it. My friend still gives me the business to this day about not worrying about his well-doing, but those guns are rare!
Here is a little background as to where we play. It is called the "Field-House." It is a large brick lobby in my high school. It is 2-story, and it is open in the middle of the second floor. Most of the second floor is actually a 10-ft. balcony that goes around the lobby. Anyway, there are a lot of pillars, stair cases, and even an elevator, so it is loads of fun. I was playing with just two other people, Ed and Mark, and they decided to gang up on me. I ran into the elevator, hit the 2nd floor button, and waited. As I went up, I could vaguely hear them yelling to each other. When the doors opened on the second floor, Mark was waiting with his gun. I had no cover at all, and he had a large pile of chairs. I managed to hit the 1st floor button, only taking one hit. When I arrived at the first floor, Ed was hiding behind a door with just his head and his gun poking out. I avoided taking another shot. When all was said and done, I had spent a little over an hour in the elevator, and when my ninth-hit-thingy sounded, I ran out and beat up Ed before he could kill me.
One night we decided to play a 4 on 4 battle in the back woods. The boundaries are a series of quad trails that form a "U" shape and the "U" is blocked off by a creek.
Me, being the stealthy one, decided to take refuge under a fallen log that overlooked a quad trail... after my 3 teammates easily got themselves eliminated, I started picking off the opposing team one by one. Then, they made a run for it and when they did, they ran right over top of me and never knew I was there. It was the best, hearing footsteps just missing me and never even getting hit once.
Being that I live in the mountains, there are many cliffs around here. We used to play capture the hill, where one team who is outnumbered sits on top of the cliffs while the other team tries to storm up. Well, I got the great idea of climbing inside a little cave so that I wouldn't be noticed... Although I had to slide into it on my back. Well, when I was found, I tried to slide out enough to shoot back, and when I did... I fell about 7 or 8 feet down off the cliff and landed flat on my back. It is a good thing there wasn't any big rocks where I landed or I could have been in big trouble.
So, there I was, running past the telephone poles behind Field 2 at full tilt, which, if you knew me, would mean something. I was running after, I don't know who, but damn I was running. And I was shooting... shooting hard and fast. And I ran smack dab into the little tree. It raked across my face and chest and then whipped into my glasses as I fell forward, rolling, wounded, onto the ground. I stayed down, my gun off to one side, still protected. I hurt, my glasses had cut into the bridge of my nose. But I knew, even as I turned, that I had done damage to the tree. I had been wounded, but I knew, without a doubt, that I had dealt my own damage. I opened my eyes to look at the tree. Nothing. Not even a damned broken limb. It stood there and mocked me. I could hear its chlorophyllous voice lifting into the night sky.
I urinated on it.
Tale number one: I'm kind of The Man in our group of mostly teenagers and young adults, so when they find me I'm often greeted with "there's Doug! Let's get him!" cries from my opponents. Subsequently, I find myself running for my life from a handful of screaming maniacal teenagers. On one such occasion I was behind my opponents' fort, dark, having taken 5 hits, and truly enjoying my sniping of my pitiful enemy, when one of those losers somehow heard me. Quickly I heard muffled conversation, and had time to think "oh shit" when 4 guys came tearing around the fort running towards me. I was in a field with about 2-3 foot weeds, nothing else, so I had no option but to turn and run like hell, prancing and loping through the weeds like a complete asshole. They both saw and heard me at that point, and the cries of vengeance intensified, with full auto bursts aimed my way. I ran like hell with nothing held back, knowing I was sure to be dead, hoping I would draw them away from their fort enough to allow my teammates to storm it and grab their flag. When I was starting to tire I turned in mid lope and brought my gun up, and Bam! In mid air mid stride I smacked into the barbed wire fence. I stuck on that damn thing like a freakin velcro doll, held fast unable to move, swaying back and forth, with the wind knocked out of me. At this point the enemy wasnt sure where I had gone, and though my right arm was stuck fast as well, I was able to bend my wrist and fire a burst. I hit 2 or 3 of them and they dropped to hide. I had the advantage as they still had lights on. After a couple more hits they gave up and ran off. I was finally able to disengage myself from the barbed wire and rejoin the fight.
One of our guys is a hillarious trash talkin teenager and an excellant player. When we play capture the flag, we allow regeneration - if you are killed you go to the patio and if there is an opposing player dead you both can go back to your fort, turn on, and rejoin the game. This keeps the game moving faster as people arent so afraid to get killed. Anyway, Rafael was killed and came up to the patio where I and 2 of my teammates already were. He had to take a piss before rejoining the game so he took off his gun and set it down. Since we were losing, I thought radical action was called for, so I took a small piece of electrician tape and put it over the end of his gun. The game went on for another half hour, and his team ultimately won. By now most of my team knew about his gun, so we listened to him talk trash for several minutes about how many guys he killed etc etc. I said, "Hey Raf, what's that on the end of your gun?" I think for the first time in his life he was actually speechless. I've never laughed so hard in all my life.
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