pumpie part 2
This all took place in the late 80s, by the way. Which put me and most of the people at the summit in our 30s and 20s.
After we got thrown out of the hotel restaurant for being boring, naturally most of us put up a fuss at the front desk and demanded our rights - that is to say, our Rights! The hotel manager called the police, who promptly issued everyone in attendance a citation for aggravated puffery, self-importance and willful attempt to make history without a license. All but Richard Pini, who grabbed a briefcase and assumed the position of businessman by a fern in the lobby. The last we saw of him was the frantic "You bastards!" look he gave us as we all danced out the door, West Side Story style, thumbing our noses at the coppers and the hotel manager. We were all thinking "You shoulda took your ticket like a MAN, Pini!" Little did we or he know how lucky he was to get left behind.
We exited the premises and everybody but Scott McCloud agreed that was enough Declaring for one day, and a little fresh air was in order. Scott was quickly outvoted, tied and gagged. Kevin Eastman ran down to Florence Hardware and bought enough paintball equipment to outfit the entire confederacy and off we went to the Berkshires. There was a cabin way up in the mountains, and it was Kevin's idea of a good time to fight our way to it. I don't particularly like paintball, but I didn't want to be rude to our host, so I geared up for the battle.
Pete, our other host, took off in his Jetsonoid hovercraft for mass quantities of beer and said he'd be there at the cabin when we got there. I don't particularly like beer either. What can I say? I'm hard to please! Suffering through hour after hour of tedious document drafting, getting multiple citations that must be paid and that will sit in my permanent record for years, fighting my way up a mountain in winter with an army of crazed paintball enthusiasts, all in the quest for an evening of beer, beer and more beer... I was getting cranky by the time we finally settled down in the cabin!
The beer was there, and the hovercraft was there, but Pete was not there. Everyone assumed he left the beer and transportation, and hiked home to watch Doctor Who videos or triple-bag his Fantastic Fours. It wasn't until after the nightmare was over and I was back in Alabama that I learned he got lost spelunking under the cabin, and there was in fact a way out the whole time we were trapped in that reeking tomb.