Just Gimme a Gun, Will You?

I’ve had complaints. Apparently, the pictures I posted last week didn’t feature enough of my smile for people to be happy. Well today, I’m fixing that problem (which will only leave the “picture of my tattoo” requests pending.) I hope you’re ready for a bit of dorkiness.
Please forgive the cut-out aspect of the pictures: it isn’t right to post picture of people without their consent so I cut them out. Besides, it doesn’t sit well with me to let beautiful women in bikini steal the show on my blog post.

On Friday June 18th, we had the annual summer party at work. Last year, the special activity was an iPod Battle which was won by a team of programmer dubbed “Cardboard and Duct Tape”. Their costume was… well… Picture a glam 80s rock band (like Twisted Sister or KISS). Add a dose of Ziggy Stardust for color. Now convert that mental image into cardboard and duct tape. Switch the leggings for stockings. Top it off with drawn-on pieces of cardboard as musical instruments. There you have it.
This year, we decided to switch it up and called a Super Soaker battle. These pictures were snapped in the heat of battle, without me noticing.
There is a story behind these pictures. Yeah, right: what do I write that doesn’t have a story, huh?
It all started with me, peacefully chatting with colleagues and sipping a beer. Suddenly, a stream of cold water hit my back. Guess who shot it. Yop. The boss’s son. I wondered how, as a grown-up man, he could shoot an unarmed woman in the back. Apparently, he has no honor at all. He shot me again. I pleaded “damsel in distress”. I hoped someone would step up and defend me. I should have known chivalry was dead. We say it often enough.
One colleague decided to hand me his gun, which you can see on the picture.
“Aren’t you going to avenge me?” I asked in my sweetest voice. He just waved his beer in response. I shot him with his own gun then turned around to seek revenge. As soon as I stepped in battle, someone yelled “Hey! Emilie’s fair game now!”
President of the social club, one of the very few girls in the business (only one on the battlefield), I had to become a target, didn’t I? I kicked off my sandals and ran around, splashing everyone I could and avoiding as many hits as was humanly possible.

All in all, it was a good party. In fact, I’ve never been to a bad party at Sarbakan. That’s one of the perks of working for a game company.

There you have it! You want a picture of me smiling? Just gimme a gun.
(This is actually completely false as I smile all the time. The true secret is to snap the picture when I’m not paying attention.)

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About Aheïla

Somewhere in Quebec City, Aheïla works as a Game Design Director by day and writes by night. Known for her blue hair, unyielding dynamism and tasty cooking (quails, anyone?), she’s convinced “prose is the new crack”. She satisfies her addiction daily on The Writeaholic’s Blog and weekly on Games' Bustles View all posts by Aheïla

12 responses to “Just Gimme a Gun, Will You?

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