LGLF Nerf Team

Canadia Conquered, Mexican Nerfers Sought in Quest for Continental Dominance

October 21st, 2011
By Langley

Written between November 17th, 2010 and October 21st, 2011 by Langley, Muttonchops, and Gears

LGLF at Hell Before Halloween

26 hours of driving, 6 hours of nerfing, 2 nights of heavy drinking, one night of moderate drinking, 12 welts (one having broken the skin), one really hot Canadian customs official, one less-than-amused American customs official, four hundred darts, one really big opossum, 6 orders of hash browns, 5 A Capella renditions of Mars Bringer of War, 2 hookahs, and one hell of a hangover later, and we’re back from our four day trip into the frozen north.  And holy hell was it worth it.

After getting dragged kicking and screaming back into the world of Nerf by my clan mates, ‘Chops and Jax at Apoc ’10, I resolved to return the favor by planning a road trip.  They unanimously recommended Hell Before Halloween, and with a most gracious invitation from FA at Apoc, we agreed our destination would have to be the Peoples Imperial Republic of Canuckistan.

After rounding up Chops and Gears from the outskirts of Philly, travelling back through New Jersey and into Connecticut we arrived at Jaxon’s place on Thursday night with one very important piece of business to attend before our real departure: Gears—long time ally of the LGLF—was to be inducted into the Clan as a full member.  Robes were dawned, chants murmured, forgotten gods summoned and forbidden beverages imbibed.  Our dark business done, we turned in early to get plenty rest before starting our trip in earnest.

The following morning, the trip started like any other: Jax was still asleep.  You see, Jax has roughly three possible states he can enter over the course of a Nerf war.  Crouching and shuffling around like he’s got a load in his pants, flying through the air without touching the ground for minutes at a time, or being completely passed out.  This was no exception.

Kiss the Cook

But chops had dawned his pink apron with the frilly stuff around the shoulders and had begun cooking bacon and eggs, and the smell had finally brought Jax down stairs some time around holy-shit-why-are-we-still-here o’ clock.  We scarfed down breakfast and quickly left.  Or at least we would have, if Jax hadn’t waited until then to start milling a plusbow out of a solid ten pound block of polycarbonate.  (That’s a metric fuckload of grams for you Canucks).  We finally departed around 4pm, and once past the Friday afternoon bridge traffic, we were hurtling towards Canada at an alarming speed.

Highlights from this portion of the trip include:

  • Having someone who doesn’t drive and rarely even makes the trip as a passenger giving us a hard time about accidentally getting stuck on the GWB at 4pm on a Friday
  • After waiting in the car for everyone to come out of a convenience store, having Chops hand me an ice cold bottle of Saranac as I pulled onto the interstate.  Apparently they make root beer.
  • A New Jersey license plate works just as well as a cow catcher for removing lead-assed upstate New York drivers from your path, but you still have to get as close as you would with the cow catcher for it to be effective.

Finally, at around 11pm, we arrived in Rochester at the apartment of our good friend Darcy, bearing a 750ml of sailor jerry as a token of our goodwill.  Naturally, Gears couldn’t claim credit for acquiring the sailor jerry.  He can however take credit for sitting in the liquor store parking lot wearing the headgear of the noblest order of waterbuffalo.  We were probably lucky to get out of that place without a child endangerment of parental neglegence suit.  In any case, Darcey matched our offering with some of her own, in the form of some delicious blueberry woodchuck cider.  I can’t comment on gears’ affinity for the beverages provided, but I can say that on at least one occasion, his ‘head was swimmin’.

Throughly smashed, each of the members of the LGLF reverted to their basest qualities.  Jax passed out shortly after claiming his place as the big spoon in the designated gears/jax sleeping area. Langley as usual turned to his sodden ways, and thoroughly endrunkened himself as Chops egged him on from the side-lines.  And then there was Gears, who engaged in the most epically nipple stiffening tickle-fight any of us had ever seen with Darcy, our poor, poor, totally unprepared host.

It was not until after this abhorrent display of typical LGLF fare that we tucked in for the evening. Gears took his foreseen spot as Jaxon’s little spoon. Nestled comfortably between stump and chest scruff, he found himself lulled to sleep while the thoughts of totally not homoerotic nerf wars with his bed partner came to surface.  Phil and Darcy retreated to her room for a totally platonic evening while the sounds of Gears grinding his teeth was palpable.  Chops had to deal with hearing the above noises from a room over in an altogether too small couch, while plotting revenge.

What a terrible night to have a curse.

As expected, the morning arrived with hangovers and blueballs abound. The sensual workings of  Langley preparing Chops’ foot soles for the upcoming slaughter with the massage of a lifetime was a refreshing way to begin the morning. Gears, in typical bitch manner,  instantly called first shower, intentionally leaving his soap and shampoo (which to this day, he hopes Darcey has lathered over her perky, naked breasts).  Chops, being less then pleased with Langley’s wakening, proceeded to stomp out of the apartment, looking for individuals to harm.  As he waited outside, ready to kill, a single crow flew overhead, shouting its mournful call, ‘Caw, caw, caw.’  Luckily, Jax was at hand to translate those archaic, ancient words foreshadowing was is typical of a Canadian Nerf war. “Cocks, cocks, cocks, cocks, cocks!”

Note from the editor: It was roughly at this point that we utterly failed to finish this blog post.  For a year.  Sorry, I tried.  Anyway, here’s what we came up with on the drive up to Hb4H5 (’11).  It’s coming back to us, but it’s all sort of a blur.  Sorry if some of this doesn’t make sense.

  • Trip to canada –  including customs  – Despite the previous night’s hangovers and awkward erections we arrived at the border crossing from Rochester without incident or fanfare.  It was at this point that a stunning redhead took a keen interest in what was ‘in our trunk’  wink wink.  By this of course I mean that we crossed the boarder in the sketchiest way possible, and the busty ginger working at customs rifled through all our shit, occasionally pausing to show our gear to her coworkers with an amused smirk.  We offered to return the favor and check out the junk in her trunk.  She declined.
  • WAR
    • Arival – Lacking Rammstein’s “We’re all living in America”, we blasted “Te Quiero Puta” out of Langley’s Ford Focus.
    • The first few rounds we were A Clan Divided.  Repeatedly split between the two current teams, we fought our way through several variations on CTF.  Waging war, brother on brother, gnome against gnome, we bore the burden of hellish warfare with dignity and aplomb.  And silly hats.
    • Monster mash – awesome new gametype,  the best deathmatch alternatives we had played thus far.  Also, fucking exausting.  Some of us took our time working out the importance of taking a breather between sprints from the target to the spawn.
    • lunch – the bbq is engulfed in a gigantic fireball.  Langley becomes the pied piper after asking for help for a dart sweep.  Only attendees under 13 volunteer.
    • noob vs vets – DUUUUUUN DAAAA DUN DA DA DUN DADA DUN (Note: That’s “Mars: Bringer of War” not “Ride of the Valkyries”)
    • LGLF collectively abstain from the headshot rounds because….well…..Canada.
    • wingman round – ‘merica wins – After dragging on well past any reasonable time limit, Tank Rat is eliminated and the three remaining players–Chops vs Gears and Jax–nerf for several tense minutes before the Canadians grew impatient with their merciless defeat at the hands of the Americans and called the round.
    • cleanup/rain – the sky opens exactly after almost everyone has left and the LGLF have volunteered to help pack up the tarps and tape on the field.
  • Restaurant – Gears doesn’t want you to think he’s a bad guy, but….
  • Angel’s place – bees, story time, cola hookah, giant fucking possum in the parking lot
  • Best hash browns ever at the same restaurant where we had dinner.
  • American customs agent asks, “So, did you win?” “Yes sir, I believe we did”
  • Long drive home – Jax wins Pennsylvania – “Moist like cake” and something about shitting in a pumpkin.
  • The coolest Gas Station/Subway on 476 ever
  • Seriously, this place was awesome.  Its like a the corner convenience store had sex with a deli, then abandoned the red-headed child in the woods.  That doesn’t make it sound so great, but it was.
  • steven king like fog on the way back up to CT.
  • FINALLY, Langley arrives at his better half’s place in Northeast CT, bringing an end to the epic journey.

 In the end, it was an excellent war, in the middle of an unforgettable road trip.  We could say more about it, but the fact that we’re doing it again this year–as we write this article–is a testament to how great a time we all had last year.  Thanks to FA, K10, and everyone else up in the unforgiving frozen wastelands of Mississauga.  Now step on it Chops!

* The title of this post is a reference to some trash-talking between Vacc and the LGLF in the NerfHaven thread for this war. Specifically, this post.

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