I took Comet (Sans antlers, because they got misplaced. They molted.) to the Ocala "Last Blast" I didn't expect much, other than to get a little goofy and have a good time. And I managed to pull off a few things there too. The whole story is on Paintball Net (Direct link to article? We can do that.)

But, let me go into a little detail. I was tired, and a little cranky as I managed to get a little breakaway from the booth. I wasn't doing well with my shirts, and I needed the diversion. The air-station blew out my tank with a bad overfill (so no Autococker), I had my Bushmaster chronied in at 220 FPS, but I didn't care. I wanted to play. The guys from Enola Gaye loaned me an Automag, and I was very, very happy.

(Side note : If anyone runs into Neil or Mark say "Hi" for me? They work at 'Urban Paintball' in Newbury... and Mary still wears the shirt!)

So, with a nice 'Mag in my hands I went out to play. I got on the field (as "Comet", remember...) and was just dinking around. Shooting a little here and there. A few minutes into it, referees were running all over the field telling players "Don't shoot the horse."

Apparently, some ref saw me from the other side of the field, thought I was "Goldy" (The horse who lives at the field) and concluded that the horse was loose from her pen. this caused a lot of panic up front, where the Dollacks were. See, they had already spent an hour before game start getting Goldy back in the corral. So this made a big ruckus. But, they remembered that I had brought Comet, so they sighed a relief when they remembered.

(It was funny tho...)

After a while, I wanted to see more of the field. I walked over to the yellow 'base' of ops. All I wanted to do was see how it was constructed. That's all. They were overly paranoid, however. My conversation with the perimeter guard was as such.

(guard, with paintgun IN MY GUT!) "Where's your tag?" (me) "Look, I'm a vendor. We came from Minnesota. I may never get to this field ever again. All I want to do is see how this fort is constructed." (I show him my tag) (guard, looking at tag) "I can't let you in." (Places finger on trigger, and gun into my face) (Me, pushing barrel out of my face) "Please, I'm trying to be civil. All I want to do is look at it." (Guard, now being joined by others.) "Wait here."

After convincing them that I had no pockets to hide cards, and placing the gun on the ground, AND telling them 5+ times I only wanted to SEE It, they refused me entrance with a push away from the fort. The whole time a barrel was being pointed at 'soft spots' on my body (THIS WAS INTENTIONAL!!!) I grabbed my gun and walked away. As I walked, I noticed they all traced me as I walked. "GEEZ PEOPLE! RELAX A LITTLE! I AINT SHOOTING!" (Some paranoia is healthy, but THIS was ridiculous!)

I joined a push along the South boundary, and get in with the "MudCats", a team who worked well together. (And they had the neatest jerseys...) We went through "Cape Fear" (Danville), a house-to-house area. All well constructed. Then got some light resistance through "ShadowLand", a wide-open plains area. We swung the corner and headed downfield.

Along the West Road we found a pocket of blue players in "Edith Bunker" (snicker, snicker). We flushed them out with some difficulty. I looked up the path, and counted the incoming blues. One, Two, Lots, Many, Oh Heck... "BLUES! UP THE TRAIL!" I screamed. Nobody believed me until they picked off our guys. I ended up playing 'caller', and found a guy who was so good I had to shoot him in the goggles twice before he'd leave. They got me with a face shot.

No problems, tho. I got my few. On the way out, I was amazed to see nobody even trying to shoot at me! The players were disciplined enough to not light up anything that moved. They overpowered and raided the yellow fort within the hour. They had the better push, and they got it well.

That evening, an "Alien Beauty Contest" was held. Now, I was still wearing most of the deer suit. Only three contestants joined in, and there were more than 3 prizes to give away. (one was a guy with a "Marvin the Martian" shirt pulled over himself! I had to jump in!)

The "Bunny Suit" (cringe!!!) won a co-3rd place with someone who got there just in time (and deserved it much more than I did...) Second and First were more than deserving of it, (First place looked like a walking pickle...) My prize? A "Spyder Compact".

Karma has been good to me this year. Bud hands me a 'Cocker. I got a t-shirt business up and running. When the karma rides good, pass it around. So I announced that after the contest and announcements that I'd be auctioning off the Spyder, all proceeds going to the Ocala Shriners club. We managed to raise $110 for them, the winner being a gent from "Gator Paintball" (Fred, I think?) I've always admired the work the Shriners do for children, and I know their burn centers are some of the finest establishments around. It's worth it.

We crashed at the hotel soon after that. It was, well, a wild ride. Yeah, that's a good way to put it. After this event, I started to wonder if there was some kind of "Good Karma" with Comet... I dunno... It's weird tho. Not that I mind, I like doing good things for good people. Now if that guard would have CALMED DOWN a little, I'da been ok.

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