"This is our last week together," Elena said. "So we're dispensing with all those silly rules about not pointing your weapons at each other, and not having them be loaded, and so on. This week, they're fully loaded, and it's war. Shoot each other like the crazed people you are."
This would probably sound ominous, if not downright insane if Elena
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Please do not let this stop you from play-acting out whatever dire injuries you may get, up to and including fake deaths that Shakespeare himself would be proud of. Bonus points if you get back up again five seconds later.
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And then it hit him. The dart, that is. "Hey! You shot me! You shout your brother!"
The next minute was an overly dramatic death scene with Jack falling to his knees, falling on his back, turning over to his side, then his other side, then flailing. It was possibly the worst, over-dramatic death ever.
Exeunt Jack stage right.
....and then he got up, cocked the gun with both hands this time, and shot at his Little Sibling.
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Oh, look, a handful of darts were arcing towards her like grenades or lawn darts (but without the fatal pokey part).
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He set up the big mclargehuge gun and waited for her to pop out so he could snipe her.
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