SPLAT! A Love Story

So, this one crawled in my head and marinated there for a couple days before I decided to let it out. I wrote it quick and edited it even quicker. It probably reads a little better if you keep your tongue firmly planted in cheek. Just a quick little flash. Let me know what you think.

Ahaz

==============

There is nothing so emasculating as seeing your wife in the throes of passion with another man. It is so cliché how I found out. A car hit a transformer outside our work, and they sent everyone home early. I forgot my phone at the shop and was too close to home to turn around and get it. Imagine my surprise when I found my wife balling some hot shot banker she worked with. I assume he was a banker by the nice suit I found on the stairs. Apparently, they couldn't wait to get their clothes off.

To be honest I wasn't overly hurt emotionally. Janice and I had met on a cruise and fucked like rabbits for four days. It turns out she only lived a couple hours away from me, so we kept up our romance. Six months after we got back, I popped the question after a particularly draining round of sex. She said yes, we had a small wedding, and we moved into a new house we both signed for. She fell into a job as an office manager for a investment firm. I had my job as a welder at the local metal shop, so we were doing okay. I guess what I am trying to say is that while I loved her, it wasn't like we were childhood sweethearts. In fact, we really should have gotten to know each other outside of the bedroom. We had been making it work these last two years, but it wasn't sunshine and roses, although the sex was still great. Don't get me wrong, I had feelings for this woman, but it was surprising how little I hurt I felt. Instead I was just angry that this little prick walked into my house and fucked my wife. He had to pay.

No woman was going to cheat on me. I ran down and found the gun was already loaded. I stalked back up the stairs, since I had left my phone at home, I grabbed my GoPro camera. I put it on and slowly opened the door. They were really going at it. He was pounding away at her and she was beginning to wail like a banshee. I lined up my shot and took a breath, I exhaled half it then brushed the trigger.

SPLAT!

YES! Direct hit to the taint! The paintball left a green gooey mess that dribbled down the fucker's ball sack.

The squeal that came out of the asshats mouth was the sweetest sound a guy has ever heard. He stood almost straight up for a second, so I pulled the trigger a couple more times.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

Three spots of green walked themselves up his back. He screamed a little more as he rolled off my wife and around the corner.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

Damn! Missed those two shots.

I heard Janice's voice from the corner where she was covering herself with a sheet.

"Phil, please, it's not what it looks like!" she cried.

I gave her an incredulous stare.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

She screamed as the sheet offered no protection against the flying paintballs. One of them hit her right on the nipple. That had to sting.

She ran into the master bathroom and slammed the door shut.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

Damn. Gotta be quicker with the trigger. Oh well, she was out of the way. I turned my attention back to banker boy, who had grabbed a pillow and was holding it over his junk.

"Now let's talk about -" he started.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

He howled as three shots found their way into his chest. He awkwardly backed up to the French doors leading out to our balcony.

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

He was almost in tears as he opened the door behind him and slammed it shut.

SPLUNK!

The last shot hit the glass.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and watched a naked man holding a pillow in front of his genitals realize that there were no steps down to the ground. It was early April in Michigan and the temperature was about 50 degrees outside. I really hoped my GoPro was getting this. I checked the hopper of my gun and I still had plenty of ammo. I had put a fresh CO cartridge on, so I knew I had plenty of air. I could wait.

I heard the bathroom door squeak open and I turned around to see my wife peeking out the door.

SPLAT!

The shot splattered right next to her head on the door jamb and she squeaked and slammed it shut.

I looked back and the banker boy had composed himself. He was standing up as straight as he could while holding the pillow and trying to look like he was in charge.

"Mr. Anderson let's work out a deal. I know that you have caught me in a compromising situation, however I am sure we can come to an understanding," he stated.

I motioned him to come closer to the door like I couldn't hear him well. He leaned in to the door so that his head was almost touching the glass. He started talking even louder.

"MR. ANDERSON, I - ," he started.

SPLUNK! SPLUNK!

He almost fell over himself as he backed away from glass. There were two paintball marks where his head had been. I had decided not to go for headshots mainly because I didn't want to put out an eye. Aside from the first shot I wasn't really targeting the genitals either because I knew that those paintballs could do some damage to the groin. Now if one or two shots dropped a bit faster than I thought they would? What could I say, shit happens?

I noticed he was taking a different tactic now. He had tossed the pillow down and was climbing over the railing of our deck. The welts were beginning to raise from the close quarter shots. I watched as he maneuvered himself to the point where he could hang off the deck and only fall about four feet. He dropped out of sight.

I beat feet down the stairs and through the garage that had been decorated to reflect my favorite hobby. As I exited the garage doors, he came around the corner with a limp. He must have landed on his ankle funny.

"You are trespassing on my property and I want you to leave," were the first words I had spoken.

Apparently, he took my sudden loquacious demeanor as meaning that I wanted to talk.

"Now Mr. Anderson I understand you are upset, but - OUCH!"

SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!

"Your invitation has been revoked and you are trespassing on my property. I want you to leave," I said again.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

"Let me get my clothes and my car and I will," he almost cried.

SPLAT!

"You need to leave the premises immediately," I reiterated as I hit him in the left nipple.

He started running. I continued shooting at him until he got onto the sidewalk. Once he was off my lot, I put my gun into safe mode and took off my GoPro. I should have gotten a pretty good amount of material.

I went into the house and gathered up all Romeo's clothes. I opened his wallet and copied down his address from his license. I tossed all his clothes and his keys into his car and locked it up. I pulled out my phone and dialed the number to the wrecker service.

"Hello! I have a car I need towed out of my driveway and across town. How soon can you get here?" I responded to the greeting.

"Twenty minutes? Excellent! I am at 765 Sunderlin Road. and I need it towed about 7 miles to 3221 Gratiot Avenue," I continued.

My phone beeped with an incoming call. I hung up and swiped to the right to answer it.

"Phil, what the hell is going on at your place?" I heard my buddy Jerry ask.

Jerry was a retired cop who lived a couple houses down the street. We shared a love of the Lions and fishing.

"I came home to find Janice bumping uglies with some banker boy. Instead of grabbing my Glock, I grabbed my paintball gun and had a little fun with them," I replied.

"Phil, is Janice safe and unharmed?" he asked with a serious voice.

"C'mon Jer, You know I wouldn't hurt a woman. Last I saw she was in the bathroom thinking about her life choices," I chuckled.

"Phil, I have seen too many domestic cases go to hell. I called dispatch and there will be a patrol car at your house in a couple minutes," he replied.

"Gotcha Jerry, everything is cool but I appreciate you are doing what you gotta do," I replied.

"Meanwhile I have this naked asshat in my house. I am going to give him some clothes and kick him to the curb. Are you done shooting him?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"Yup, I'm actually glad, I want some cops here in case he tries to set foot on my property. I'll have him arrested for trespassing," I replied.

That got a chuckle out of him.

"You've had your fun, put the gun away and talk to the cops. Be good!" he said as he hung up.

The cops showed up a couple minutes later and pulled in behind Asshat's BMW. An older black cop leveraged himself out of the Ford Edge and walked over to me.

"I'm Officer Jenkins, we are responding to an altercation that was reported here. Are you the homeowner?" he asked in a brisk tone.

"OFFICER! ARREST THAT MAN!" I heard from across the street.

Jenkins and I looked at the guy. Jerry apparently had a sense of humor because banker boy was dressed in cutoff sweat shorts and a belly shirt. The crocs he had on his feet completed the look. You could see the welts and paint over his exposed belly. I wish I had a camera. I turned my GoPro back on.

"Shut up! Sit on the curb with your underneath your ass!" the officer barked.

Banker boy, whose name was Chester, abruptly sat down.

"He shot me with paintballs," Chester whined.

"I don't care, My first priority is making sure everyone is okay. Mr. Johnson, Where is your wife right now?" the officer asked.

"I'm right here," Janice said as she walked out of the house and out into the lawn.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Are you injured?" he asked.

"No, I am fine, Phil didn't do anything to me. He just hit Chester with a few paintballs," she answered.

"That's right! Arrest this man for assault!" Chester screamed.

The officer ignored him.

"It's not assault officer, can I show you something real quick?" I asked.

Now that he could tell that Janice was unharmed, he calmed down a little bit, and followed me to my garage.

"I assume the asshat entered through the garage, which means he had to see my very well-placed sign beside the door," I explained.

Sure enough beside the door was an advertisement for the brand of paintballs I use.

It was a four by four poster that had a blonde chick in bikini bottoms holding a paintball gun across her tits. The sign said, "Paintball Zone: Enter at Your Own Risk".

"When I saw him naked on top of my wife, I assumed he was here to play paintball and forgot to bring the proper equipment," I said with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek.

The cop tried to not laugh. He managed one loud guffaw then turned away. He looked back at me with a twinkle in his eye.

"Is your wife in any danger here?" He asked.

"Not at all officer, we are heading for divorce court, but I am not gonna lay a finger on her,'" was my earnest reply.

"Okay, let's go talk to Chester," he said with a smirk.

Chester was none to pleased with the outcome. The officer refused to arrest me despite threats from the banker. He got even more irate when I wouldn't let him on my property to get his car.

"Don't worry Chester old boy, I put all your clothes in it and locked it up. The tow truck should be here any minute to take it to your house. If there is such a thing as karma your wife will be home when it is delivered," I told him.

It was all too much for poor Chester. He ran at me swinging his fists like a ten-year-old. He hit me in the face with a windmill punch that had nothing behind it. Officer Jenkins quickly pulled him back and slapped the cuffs on him.

"Officer, could you please arrest that man for assault and trespassing?" I asked politely. "Or you can let him go and we will settle this like men."

Officer Jenkins read him his rights and tossed him in the back of the car. He came back and addressed Janice.

"Ma'am do you feel safe staying here?" He asked.

"Yes, Phil and I have to talk but I know we can do it civilly. I doubt you will be needed here," she said.

The tow truck came and got asshat's car. The cops took Chester down to the station where he was released within a few hours on his own recognizance. Later I heard his wife beat him home and he had quite a bit of explaining to do. Last I knew they were headed for divorce.

As for us? She explained that he was the office Romeo with the ten-inch dick that her girlfriends were telling her she had to try out. Before we were married, she would have taken him for a spin and thought nothing of it. She says she slipped into her bad habits of flirting and teasing, and it led to this. We both realized that while we had a great sexual chemistry, there was nothing else to our relationship. If I was being truthful, I was probably only a couple months away from hopping in the sack with Casey, the new girl in the office. We were sad, and I was angry, but there was no need to ruin our lives with an overwhelming amount of sadness and anger. By the end of the talk I could see us being friendly at least.

It turns out that was a good thing. The restaurant supplier that counted for 45% of the workforce in the area moved south to cheaper wages. Suddenly there was a glut of houses on the market. Since neither of us could afford to make our half of the payment and we didn't have enough equity to drop the price, we ended up being roommates. She got the upstairs with the master bedroom and bathroom while I took the downstairs guest room with the nearby guest bathroom. It didn't work out too bad. I took care of the maintenance and lawn and she took care of most of the cleaning. We shared the kitchen and laundry area. The great room was mine on Sunday afternoon for football and hers on Wednesday evening for her girl's night.

It was a little weird the first time I brought a lady friend home, especially when she ended up chatting with Janice over coffee. And there was some awkwardness when she brought her first guy friend back to the house, especially when he ate my cereal and used the last of my milk. (To her credit, she apologized and replaced them the same day.) After about six months, things were normal.

The day we got our final divorce papers I went and bought a couple steaks along with a bottle of wine. We had a toast to what was and enjoyed a bittersweet dinner where we finished up with a brief kiss and went to our separate bedrooms. I felt a little emotional but there were no tears or histrionics.

There were two interesting outcomes to the story. Chester came after me for assault and I agreed to drop my charges if he dropped his. The GO Pro video made it to YouTube and went viral. Not only did my channel make some money, but the gun manufacturer jumped in and offered to sponsor my paintball team. We entered the regionals with brand new shiny gear and crushed everyone, getting us to the nationals. They flew us out to Las Vegas, and we ended up fifth in the nation. Next year we are hoping for better.

The YouTube video had another payout. Even though I blurred the faces and naughty parts, some people still recognized Chester. He was already in hot water with his job for his antics at the office, this pushed him over the edge and the bosses let him go. He sued me for a laundry list of items, most of which were spurious but a couple of which he had a shot of winning. This is where it is nice to have friends in low places. My buddy, Shawn, had graduated from Cooley Law School (the same one as Trump's attorney) and had a very lucrative career chasing ambulances across the Detroit area. He took the case as a favor and we fought everything. The charge with the most serious chance of succeeding was the fact that I videotaped him without his consent. He claimed that I cost him his job and was looking to get five hundred thousand from me. Shawn pointed out the yard sign that stated the property was under surveillance. Another argument was that I was operating an illegal business since I told the cop I thought he was there to play paintball. I thought that one was clever. He requested a jury trial and when it was said and done, they deliberated for a grand total of two hours.

I figured I was okay when the head juror gave me a wink and a smile as they filed back in. They found me guilty. However, their determination was that while I was guilty of bad judgment, HE was guilty of even worse judgement. They awarded him a dollar in damages since it was his lack of judgement that put him in the position to get shown naked. Since his lawyer was working on contingency, he didn't even get the full dollar. There was a lot of chuckling and outright laughter as he left the courtroom in a huff. All it cost me was a steak dinner and a night at the strip clubs for Shawn and me.

So, there is my story. It has been a couple years and we could probably sell the house if we wanted, but last night we talked about it and found we were okay with the arrangement. Over time we have become friends. In fact, she even invited me to go on a cruise with a couple of mutual acquaintances. I am probably gonna go, after all winters in Michigan suck.