Shooting Park

            As they had all signed up on the waiver, they really didn’t have much of a choice in this matter. Sure, if a single one of them had any more balls, they might have had the sense to back out, but what’s the point of that? As it stood, the park was ready to go. Launch was destined for 2 minutes in the future.  The contestants checked their preparations. Bandoliers, magazines, any holsters that they cared to bring were checked for spontaneous defects that always seem to spring up at the worst possible moment. This fan was about to be consumed with shit.

            The time became 12:02, and Randal was the first to open fire. His army-surplus submachine gun raking the benches where he assumed people had been hiding to make the drop on him. Sadly, he was wrong, and a family of possums paid the price for his mistake. No one noticed at the time, and they wouldn’t have cared if PETA sent them a letter about it later, complaining about such loss of life. 

            It was an appropriate way to begin the Shooting Park, though. 

            Passers by most likely would have appreciated some sort of forewarning of this event, but as none were given, things became very loud very quickly. Not just the gun fire screamed across the little sanctuary of grass and dog shit, but actual screams were released in reckless abandon as confused park-goers ran found themselves in a gun fight armed with only their clothes or Pomeranians. There was one clothed Pomeranian, but it died somehow. No one was happier about this predicament than it was.  Pomeranians despise clothing of any sort. It makes a mockery of their culture. Death is preferable.

            Quite quickly, though, the screams were not only uttered by terrorized citizens fleeing the scene, but also by willing participants experiencing the installation of brand new holes in their bodies.  Sometimes, these holes resulted in catastrophic system failures in the bodies, but that was bound to happen. No one was surprised or deterred by this. Waivers take care of everything, after all. It’s surprising, the power a pen wields, isn’t it?

            One of these participants was Fredereick, who was tired of people misspelling his name.  Hiding in a bush, he saw this as proper training for a militia, in case the federal government got too greedy with their power. Chaos would be their only defense against the organized oppression created by the power hungry government. His only hope was that chaos was enough, and that the others looked at this opportunity exactly the same way that he did, despite his lack of expressing this idea to a single one of them.  He survived the experience, only to go back to his previous occupation of selling people lottery tickets at a gas station. 

            He never got his rebellion against a draconian government, but he did get shot in the face during a robbery 3 years later, as is tradition for anyone that works at 7-11 for any longer than a decade.  As he stared down the barrel of his assailant’s puissant pocket pistol, he couldn’t help but feel like he missed the point of the Shooting Park, that one time he went.

            And still, the shooting continued as Fredereick hid in this bush, pretending to be the strategist. This release of tension was necessary among those with the wherewithal to join, as life doesn’t always seem satisfactory, and Hollywood always glamorized violence. Indeed, a few witty remarks were heard among the booms and blasts of guns, including, “Die, fucker”, “We see you have boom-boom stick. So have I,” and the staple remark of, “Oh God, the bleeding!”

            This particular Shooting Park stopped when the few left decided enough was enough, around 4:53 the same day.  Some reporters asked the local mosquito population what they thought of the occasion, and the buzz was felt worldwide, yet the news people continued their tradition of not stating the facts. That being said, everyone was happy about that, as facts are tedious. Tears are much more tangible than facts, so they run with that. Those that survived ran more Shooting Parks, and none of them noticed in any way the similarity between Shooting Parks and fight clubs. Not a one of them.