Its mother was crying that morning. The bogan son awkwardly embraced her, telling her that everything would be ok. It’d be back home safely soon enough, it said. And besides, it’d used a gun before, and could handle itself in a fight. Its mother continued to weep, unconsoled. She hoped never to see the day that her son would go off to paintball war. But she knew it was for a cause much greater than her own selfish need to see her only child be safe. It was for its best mate’s bucks party.
Paintball’s origins date back to the year that Phil Collins plagued the world with In The Air Tonight, and went on to sell a buttload of copies. There was definitely something in the air the night that shooting paint-filled capsules from a high-powered gun became a bogan rite of passage. To killing things. Embodying bogan-trusted loves of war and paint, paintball is a pseudo-deadly simulation of what will never happen on a real battlefield. Nevertheless, the bogan embraces it with the same fervour it musters up when talking about joining the army.
Pregnant with anticipation, the bogan eagerly awaits the impending skirmish with its ten best mates. What lies ahead is a day of shooting balls of paint at its mates’ balls, with a particular emphasis on assassinating the buck. True to form, the bogan lacks the discipline to stay ‘alive’ or face any real consequences of being in a ‘battlefield’. It will thus, maniacally run around; gun in one hand and massive can in the other, scanning the terrain so it can repeatedly shoot the buck for the sixteenth time and prove once for all, that it is indeed the biggest and quickest guerrilla in the jungle. This, despite the fact it was ‘killed’ about three minutes after strapping on the protective goggles. All the while, its mother sits alone in her lounge room, forlornly thumbing a tattered photo of its child while the clock ticks loudly from out in the hallway.
Some days later, when the paint has finally peeled off and the camouflage gear nicked, it will proudly display its extreme bruising to all and sundry. It will enthral its listeners with tales of gallantry and valour, and uncontrollably laugh about the time it totally “nailed Dave in the balls, lol”. Meanwhile, its life giver is relieved that her progeny is back safe and sound without getting killed or acquiring trench foot.