It hit it’s peak in the nineties and fizzed out, along with DDR and movie arcades. They have fallen into the realm of the dweeby 8 year-olds and that is where they will stay- because who the heck wants to touch something after it’s been drooled, spat and snotted on by Marvin the ginger in the 2nd grade. There, along with decent children’s movies and morally-guided children’s books, Laser Tag will stay, decrepit and weary, dreaming of the day it will once again soar to the top of the Cool List, blowing the Disney Channel movie star/singer/rocker/rapper/dancer/hooker Wanna-Be’s out of the water. But only if we fight for it.
To combat the short, alien menace, we must wear gloves . . . even after the fact. Suit up when going into battle (including face mask and gardening gloves) and underneath the light-up pack, bring Kleenex and Windex, should you be infected. Be wary of any running noses and grabby hands because no matter what the rules say, Laser Tag is a contact sport.
Wear black at all times. Their birth certificate says they’re only eight but evil has many forms and doesn’t care for age. They will jump you. They will bite you and you will be infected, unless you are camouflaged. Protect face and ears. Once you are down, they will not hesitate to add insult to injury: to condemn you to a Wet Willy. And believe me, few victims of this guerrilla tactic live to tell the tale, and even then, they still are never able to remove all the spit, crayon mush and dirt that was lodged deep in their ear on that fateful day.
Do not be fooled by their “innocence” or “crying”. You see a sobbing child, you take that shot, knock him down and keep moving. Despite what we are taught to believe, the sound of crying actually serves two purposes: 1) a distractor, to confuse and send the enemy into disarray and 2) a trap to pull unwitting adults into their clutches, where upon entering the trap, they succumb to thousands of the little monsters, crawling everywhere, shooting and stealing points from the adult, until they are reduced to the bottom of the score chart. It’s not pretty, my friends. But it’s the world we live in and there are somethings in this life that you just have to suck up. Nut up or shut up.
This is not a joke, people. This is a serious game and it has fallen into enemy territory. We must retrieve it or childhood as we all remember and cherish it will be gone forever. Shall we fight for it, or shall the thrill of being a secret agent trapped in an LSD world with martians as the sole enemy, be lost to the land of the heathen gods?