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Paintball

By , Roslyn, NY
“Josh, keep moving! The helicopter is almost here!” yelled Ben. We were in the woods for hours being hunted by enemies.
“Ben, let’s head for the command post! I heard over the radio that a small group of Blues is taking cover there. We should be able to take them. I’m going to call in some help,” I told him. He agreed to my plan, but upon our arrival to the post, we realized that the group consisted of thirty Blues, not five Blues as we were initially told.
“Josh, get the grenades!”
“Alright, Ben, I have some smoke grenades left. They should help us out.” I threw a pair of smoke grenades, but one of them did not detonate. The second grenade, however, worked beautifully. It appeared as if a dense cloud of fog spontaneously erupted from the sand.
“Ben, we should charge them! We won’t get another opportunity as good as this one!” I yelled.
“Okay, let’s do this,” he replied. We charged the post, and by the time we defeated the Blues, we were drained of energy, out of ammo, and our guns were covered with an icy layer of carbon dioxide.
“Ben, we should head back to camp. Maybe your dad can get us pizza.”
“Good idea, Josh. I’m really hungry.” After we reached camp, his dad took us to the Dominos close to the field. What a great day of paintball!





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