Post by johnnydorn on Apr 24, 2021 3:57:16 GMT
Crouched low to the ground, his body compressed as tightly as he can muster, Johnny Dorn holds his breath as darkness covers him like a funeral shroud. His eyes dart back and forth, picking up movements amongst the black, figures of various shapes and sizes scampering in his field of vision.
“C’mon, c’mon…” he finally breathes, quietly, while fidgeting.
Pillars and posts around Wrigleyville’s Finest start to glow, coming alight softly at first in neon blues and greens and oranges, helping to highlight a planetary landscape painted all around him in similar brilliant colors.
“Alllllright troopers!” an overly cheery voice booms out from some unseen speaker. “Are you ready to battle for the future of space?!”
Overhead lights begin to flicker, and a predatory grin tugs at the corners of Johnny’s lips. He shifts his weight and perches on the balls of his feet.
It’s pew pew time, bitches…
“Then get your phasers at the ready to fight off the alien invaders and let’s play laser taaaaaaag!”
Techno music is pumped through the speakers as Johnny sees the laser gun in his hand light up. He waits a couple seconds, comfortable that he’s picked a good hiding spot, and waits for his first victim.
The blonde eight year old boy with the shitty QT Reese bowl cut never saw him coming.
“GOTCHA, DWEEB!” Johnny shouts, hitting the kid dead center on his sensor vest, then darting from his position to take up another one further away. He holds his laser gun in a side grip like an absolute tool as he runs, but he manages to hit a little girl in pigtails and a dad in a white Champion sweatshirt who sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the neon and the blacklights.
Johnny posts up back-first against a pillar, looks left, then right, then darts around the corner. He does a forward roll (why?) and fires at a pre-teen girl cosplaying as Averie Stardust. Her vest lights up in the back and Dorn cackles.
“SHOULD’VE PICKED A BETTER HERO!”
He scrambles to his feet and keeps moving, dodging and weaving, taking aim at anything that moves. Finally, after 15 minutes, the lights come on and the music dies out.
“Okay players, what a game!” Cheery Voice says. “Head on out of the Galactic Arena to get your scores!”
Everyone files out of the room and back to the Laser Tag’s welcome area to return their “phasers” and sensor vests. A digital board above the counter lists the player's name, their team number, and their score. Unfortunately for Johnny, his name is not listed at the top of the pack; rather, he sees it somewhere in the middle.
“Yo, is this a joke, bro?” Johnny asks Cheery Voice, actually named Adam. “Is this thing rigged? Nobody could fuckin’ touch me in there!”
A few parents “earmuff” their youngins, scowling at the language that comes out of Johnny’s mouth.
“Well...no. Half the people you were shooting at were on your team.”
Johnny blinks, confused. “Wait, there were teams?”
“Yeah, bro,” Champion Sweatshirt says, his hands still covering Pigtails’ ears. “Didn’t you listen to the instructions before we got in there?”
“It’s fuckin’ laser tag, bro, you point and shoot, who gives a shit about teams?”
“Sir, language…” Adam says, which earns him a bird flip from Johnny.
“Hey, maybe if you gave a shit about teams, you’d be in the main event against Jim Luzzato and his buddy Theo instead of being their warm-up act.” Champion Sweatshirt quips, smugly.
“Yeah. Have fun against Zeke,” adds the Averie fan. “I hope he smashes your stupid face in.”
The other players depart, leaving Johnny to stand, stewing, with Adam looking very uncomfortable.
“Oh yeah?” Johnny calls after them. “Well who gives a fuck about Zeke Davis anyway! The fuck’s he done except knock some bitch up. He ain’t done shit in Cheap Pops!” He huffs, clenching his fists, then looks over to Adam.
“I’m gonna beat the fuck out of Zeke so bad that that goddamn fetus of his is gonna feel it.”
Adam’s eyes widen in shock. “That’s horrible, man.”
“Yeah? So’s your skin,” Johnny sneers, giving Adam’s cystic acne a once-over. “Get some fuckin’ ProActiv.”
The JaegerMASTER storms away, down the stairs, and back to the United Skates’ fun center proper.
“Now, let me go find this Jimmy Williams kid and wish him a Happy Birthday and get that the fuck over with…”
“C’mon, c’mon…” he finally breathes, quietly, while fidgeting.
Pillars and posts around Wrigleyville’s Finest start to glow, coming alight softly at first in neon blues and greens and oranges, helping to highlight a planetary landscape painted all around him in similar brilliant colors.
“Alllllright troopers!” an overly cheery voice booms out from some unseen speaker. “Are you ready to battle for the future of space?!”
Overhead lights begin to flicker, and a predatory grin tugs at the corners of Johnny’s lips. He shifts his weight and perches on the balls of his feet.
It’s pew pew time, bitches…
“Then get your phasers at the ready to fight off the alien invaders and let’s play laser taaaaaaag!”
Techno music is pumped through the speakers as Johnny sees the laser gun in his hand light up. He waits a couple seconds, comfortable that he’s picked a good hiding spot, and waits for his first victim.
The blonde eight year old boy with the shitty QT Reese bowl cut never saw him coming.
“GOTCHA, DWEEB!” Johnny shouts, hitting the kid dead center on his sensor vest, then darting from his position to take up another one further away. He holds his laser gun in a side grip like an absolute tool as he runs, but he manages to hit a little girl in pigtails and a dad in a white Champion sweatshirt who sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the neon and the blacklights.
Johnny posts up back-first against a pillar, looks left, then right, then darts around the corner. He does a forward roll (why?) and fires at a pre-teen girl cosplaying as Averie Stardust. Her vest lights up in the back and Dorn cackles.
“SHOULD’VE PICKED A BETTER HERO!”
He scrambles to his feet and keeps moving, dodging and weaving, taking aim at anything that moves. Finally, after 15 minutes, the lights come on and the music dies out.
“Okay players, what a game!” Cheery Voice says. “Head on out of the Galactic Arena to get your scores!”
Everyone files out of the room and back to the Laser Tag’s welcome area to return their “phasers” and sensor vests. A digital board above the counter lists the player's name, their team number, and their score. Unfortunately for Johnny, his name is not listed at the top of the pack; rather, he sees it somewhere in the middle.
“Yo, is this a joke, bro?” Johnny asks Cheery Voice, actually named Adam. “Is this thing rigged? Nobody could fuckin’ touch me in there!”
A few parents “earmuff” their youngins, scowling at the language that comes out of Johnny’s mouth.
“Well...no. Half the people you were shooting at were on your team.”
Johnny blinks, confused. “Wait, there were teams?”
“Yeah, bro,” Champion Sweatshirt says, his hands still covering Pigtails’ ears. “Didn’t you listen to the instructions before we got in there?”
“It’s fuckin’ laser tag, bro, you point and shoot, who gives a shit about teams?”
“Sir, language…” Adam says, which earns him a bird flip from Johnny.
“Hey, maybe if you gave a shit about teams, you’d be in the main event against Jim Luzzato and his buddy Theo instead of being their warm-up act.” Champion Sweatshirt quips, smugly.
“Yeah. Have fun against Zeke,” adds the Averie fan. “I hope he smashes your stupid face in.”
The other players depart, leaving Johnny to stand, stewing, with Adam looking very uncomfortable.
“Oh yeah?” Johnny calls after them. “Well who gives a fuck about Zeke Davis anyway! The fuck’s he done except knock some bitch up. He ain’t done shit in Cheap Pops!” He huffs, clenching his fists, then looks over to Adam.
“I’m gonna beat the fuck out of Zeke so bad that that goddamn fetus of his is gonna feel it.”
Adam’s eyes widen in shock. “That’s horrible, man.”
“Yeah? So’s your skin,” Johnny sneers, giving Adam’s cystic acne a once-over. “Get some fuckin’ ProActiv.”
The JaegerMASTER storms away, down the stairs, and back to the United Skates’ fun center proper.
“Now, let me go find this Jimmy Williams kid and wish him a Happy Birthday and get that the fuck over with…”