Point...Flip Top...Press Trigger

Last night I believe my liver decided to move out. While we parted on good terms, I can't help but think that its decision was based on the amount of abuse I inflicted on it. Liver, if you're reading this, I still love you. Call me.

It had all of the makings of a great party. A projector with an XBox 360 kicking out the Guitar Hero II jams in face-off mode. A PA system that could melt your face with the bitchin' riffs. Two fire pits burning the equivalent of a small forest. People who do in fact rock hard. And a comfortable couch for me to wake up on, and think

"Hmmm...this doesn't feel like my bed. Oh! Is that sunlight? I bet it's morning. That's awe---damn. Where are my keys? "

Sometime before the Maker's Mark(tm) drinking contest began though, I found myself sitting on hill behind my buddy's Deuce's apartment with 100 other people watching The Hat attempt to incapacitate The Bandanna.

The plan was simple. The Bandanna had purchased a high quality pepper spray for his girl to use for self defense. However, he wasn't sure if it was actually effective. Now, The Bandanna is a former Marine and has had that super special training that required him to be tear gassed for the amusement of his superiors, so it seemed natural that he do this for the amusement of his friends. So my friend F-Stop set up some lights in the field behind the party and she got out her video camera while a visiting photographer prepared his own rig.

We watched as lights were turned on and as The Hat did a couple of practice aims. The Bandanna steeled himself for the attack. A water gun lie on the ground next to him. He was to charge The Hat as if he meant to do serious bodily harm. The Hat would fire the spray from ten feet away into The Bandanna's face. Then, The Bandanna would try to pick up the water gun and shoot The Hat. If he was unable to do so, the pepper spray was a success.

Lights. Camera. Action.

The Bandanna took his first few steps. The crowd waited for the shot and The Hat didn't disappoint. He flipped the top and engaged the trigger. Instead of spray, a glob of gel shot into The Bandanna's face. It was as if a face hugger had just jumped from a nearby egg and was trying to get down his throat.

The first few seconds, it was as if nothing happened. The Bandanna stood there, slime faced, and stated, "It's kind of a slow burn."

We looked on, shocked that the spray had no effect. The Bandanna shook his head a little. Then he opened his eyes to finish the scenario.

Then he crumbled to the ground in pain.

He searched frantically for the cooler of ice water that was on hand to flush his eyes and face. The team of ZS members standing by stepped in and stripped his shirt and head covering from him. Then milk was brought to pour over his head.

It was the closest thing to live porn I've seen in the last month.

The Bandanna sat in the middle of the field, a mess of mucus, milk, and water. F-Stop was there the whole time with her camera taping away, unafraid of the pepper smell coming from her subject. Deuce, K-Bar, and a few others escorted The Bandanna inside to the shower to strip and clean him. An hour later, he emerged with an even larger sac than he had before the night began.

It was decided that the pepper spray does work, however, The Bandanna could still have fired a few rounds at The Hat before the crippling pain kicked in. So, that's something to remember for those who rely on the device for self defense.