Girls have bigger guns
Hello! The name’s Mini from sunny Singapore and I’m guest blogging to return Su’s hospitality on a recent trip to Macau. If anyone’s heading up there, look her up for free flow of tequila and tomato juice.
I never thought camouflage was my colour but I must say, the war game fatigues at Fisherman’s Wharf suited me to a tee. Uh huh, the casino tables aren’t the only places in Macau where you can make a killing.
At this facility, imaginatively called er, War Games, you can make like Saddam Hussein (pre-capture) and go to war. In our case, we split into two teams for the epic battle of the roses and the thorns. Three against two - all is fair in love and war, boys.
The set-up resembles the town of Al-habrazar in Iraq. Okay, I made that up, but the low houses have bullet holes in the walls, there are bombs lying around and the piped music is er, some man wailing in Arabic. It’s eerily effective as it makes you think of beheadings and bearded men crying “Allah is great!”
Like real desert stormers, you have to suit up - fatigues, face mask, vest, knee and elbow pads. You also have to watch a training video before you are issued your weapon: A pellet gun that has two modes: shotgun and machine gun.
The nice men who run the facility didn’t behead us. Instead, they gamely acted as marshalls to organise four rounds of games. The first two were called Shoot The Living Daylights Out Of Your Favourite Friends, as that was what we did. The third round was There She Blows, where teams had to defuse bombs in each other’s territories. Actually, all we had to do was to find the bomb without getting shot but no harm in using some imagination. The last round was Flag Runner, where we had to invade and capture the other team’s flag. Disclaimer: I made up the names of the games, but I intend to propose their use to Stanley Ho, who owns Fisherman’s Wharf.
In all, the whole experience is akin to the childhood game of catching. You dodge in and out of cover a lot, taunt your enemies when they can’t get you, and then cry when you get shot. *sniffle*. Be noble and abide by the code of honour. That is, surrender willingly when you get hit. (But make sure you switch to machine gun mode and spray a few rounds of pellets in wild, dramatic fashion first.)
Oh, before I forget to mention, the girls won! So much for having gone through military training guys! Woohoo!
Recommended for: Rage-o-holics who need some form of release, bored (or broke) gamblers and George Bush (both of them).
Till my next trip to Macau, so long!
Leave a Reply