>”You know, everyone else is sleeping by now” your Mossberg whispers into your ear
>”So you want to wake them up like last time?” you sarcastically reply as she vainly tries to pull you closer
>”They're all in the guest room this time. They can't hear use from there”
>”Besides,” she says with the most smug grin you ever seen, “you're the one who kicked the wall last time.”
>*Crash*
>”What the hell?”
>”ANON COME SAVE US!”
>”Shit!” you yell as you spring out of bed
>Behind you your Mossberg is already in gun form ready to go
>Just like you've both practiced
>You pull her out from the covers and attempt to shoulder her
>”Ow, fuck”
>Her stock is missing and you end up slamming the back of the receiver against your shoulder
>Where the hell are her clothes?
>Whatever, there's no time for this
>Your bedroom door flies open as you enter the living room with your shotgun at high ready
>You've barely taken one step when your foot catches on a box, sending you to the floor
>On your way down you manage to bang your head on the coffee table
>”FFFFFFFFFFUCK!”
>From the floor you can barely make out a silhouette and remember to turn the mounted flash light on
>Target, to your front
>Wait
>That's literally one of those Osama Bin Laden targets
>”The fuck?”
>”ANON HURRY!”
>Back to operating
>You get back up and push over “Osama” as you make you way to the kitchen
>Leaning around the corner you see yet another target of what looks like someone in a turban holding a child hostage
>”What the fuck is going on?”
>”ANON PLEASE HELP!”
>You move through the next two rooms, leaning around corners and sweeping the rooms as you go
>After tripping over another box, of course
>Finally your at the door to the guest room
>Attached to the door handle with some string is a cardboard box with a timer duck taped to it and some wires sticking out
>You kick the box to the side
>*BOOM*
>While wincing in pain you cover one of your ears with you right hand
>One of the sides of the box has blown out and there's some smoke coming out of it
>Also, one of those shotgun shell tripwires has fallen out, with what looks like a shotgun blank attached to it
>”WTF?!” you think to yourself as you kick open the door
>”TIME!”
>All four of your pistols are sitting on the bed, giving you disappointed looks as as one of them writes on a clipboard
>The one with the clipboard lets out a deep sigh as she checks the stop watch
>”One minute twenty three seconds” your Glock says shaking her head.
>”I'll go check the targets” a short, blonde haired 1911 says as she steps around you
>”Wha...What the hell is this?” you manage to spit out between gasps of air
>The black haired one holding the clipboard gives you a weird look as if that was a dumb question
>”Training, and from the looks of things you obviously need more of it”
>”Huh?”
>”Without even considering the targets, you not only took way too long to get here, but also failed to defuse the bomb!”
>”You mean that?” you ask pointing back through the door to the smoking box
>”Yes, all you had to do was cut the string connecting it to the door. That should have been obvious since it wasn't under any tension. Also you better order some more shotgun blanks. You're running low”
>You just stand there panting and unsure of what to say
>The 1911 comes back and pushes you to the side as she enters the room
>”Living room target is knocked over but otherwise undamaged. The Kitchen target hasn't been shot either. Also all of the boxes have been moved”
>Your Glock lets out another sigh as she resumes writing on the clip board
>”For the sake of your dignity I guess we can say one of them was a melee kill...”
>”Hold on a second!”
>”Also at the very least, you didn't shoot the hostage...”
>”Listen here you brats!”
>”So in conclusion: you took way too long, missed one target, failed to navigate the obstacles, and failed to defuse the bomb. Had this been a real ISIS invasion you'd be dead and our finishes might have been scratched. Tell you what, go back to sleep and we'll run through this again in a few hours”
>”SHUT UP!”
>They all freeze focus their attention back to you
>"What the hell was that crashing sound?"
>"We put some empty beer bottles, put them in a box and threw it against a wall."
>”Do you realize the damage you could have caused if I actually fired?”
>”We took precautions.” your Glock says with a hint of sass, ”Both targets had phone books taped to the back of them which would have easily stopped bird shot. Also even if you missed, putting a shell through the walls behind the targets would've put the shot in the woods or into the hill next to us.”
>”I use 00 buck, not bird shot.”
>”Oh, good thing we still had those back stops.”
>”What about the holes I would have put in the walls and window?”
>”Small price to pay to be better prepared.”
>”What about my hearing? You know how loud shotguns are.”
>”Two shots probably wouldn't have done that much permanent damage.”
>”And if someone calls the police?”
>”All they'd know is someone heard a noise. You could just lie and say you didn't hear anything.”
>You're at a loss for words
>What the hell were they thinking?
>Suddenly the shotgun you're holding starts shaking
>With a flash of light your shotgun is now standing in the room looking like she's about to kill someone
>You almost feel sorry for them
>”Almost” you think to yourself as your body starts aching from all the falls
>”WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?”
>They all immediately look down in shame
>”YOU IDIOTS COULD HAVE DONE PERMANENT DAMAGE TO ANON, AND-”
>She stops yelling as she realizes she's only wearing one of your shirts
>She opens her mouth to say something else, but just ends up storming back to your room
>You take a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself
>”Get this shit cleaned up. We'll talk about this in the morning.”
>”Ok Anon” they all say, except sounding a bit more shameful than earlier
>You make your way back to your room, taking care not to fall over the “obstacles” again
>As you lay down next to a very pissed off Mossberg you try to remember which stores in town sell gun safes