Battle Royale

I’ve been sitting on this particular post for a while now.  The last few months has bore witness to snow storms, weddings, my sister’s new house (to-be-constructed), my brother’s new house (to-be-bought), and a burgeoning addiction to Blizzard’s Hearthstone, which like all obsessions in my life (i.e. women, writing, chess, MMORPGs) I kinda suck at.  As such, the blog has received the short-end of the time-sink, a fact I’d remedy here soon.  We may have received tickets to Comicon in San Diego this summer.  More on that later!  In the meantime, join us as the Murphey clan goes laser-tagging, much to our own amusement.  

“Blimey, ‘ere we ‘ave the female white girl in ‘er natural attire,” Sean whispered to Shannon in his best – that is most stereotypical – impersonation of the crocodile hunter.  “Brown boots and leggings, tools of cunning to attract potential mates . . .”

“Shutup, Sean,” Bree snarled strapping on her suit, now glowing blue in the darkness.  “I am not dressed like this to ‘attract mates.’”

She feigned a glancing shot with her laser gun at grinning brothers before continuing.
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