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20th December 2016
12:10am GMT
If it ain’t broke don’t fix it we say. There’s a reason why paintballing is the most popular activity for stags, and an increasingly popular one for hens – and no, it’s not because the groom learns all about pain and fear in preparation of married life.
Anyone in a long-term relationship should already know about that.
Here’s why stags can’t get enough of batthering the heads of each other with paintballs...
We may be in our early twenties, but we millennials are basically overgrown children. Wearing assault gear and carrying guns makes us feel like we're in Call of Duty: Black Ops – even if we're really accountants or IT consultants.
The stags get to have the craic coming up with ‘cool’ soldier names like Tom ‘Bullseye’ Moynihan and ‘Ragin’ Robbie’ – and of course fantastically mature team names like ‘The Painters Are In’ and ‘Decorate The Toilet Bowl’.
ROAR! PUNCH! TONY THE TIGER! SLY STALLONE! JEAN CLAUDE! YORKIES!
And that's just the hens.
The stag who has been secretly in love with the bride-to-be since he was like, 14, can attack the groom violently, finally letting out all his jealousy and anger.
“Hey man, calm down you’ll kill him!” says a worried friend. “Ahaha sure I’m only having the craic,” says secret admirer man.
They can’t touch him and he knows it.
Most paintball centres have brilliant game zones that offer battle-like scenarios. So you’re not just whacking paint at each other and hoping for the best – you’re coming up with proper military strategies. Sorta. Ish. Kinda.
Paintballing is the ultimate activity for bonding – and isn’t that the point of it all? Bonding? Carrying your battle-weary comrades to a safe-zone or throwing yourself in front of your buddy as a volley of paintballs come their way is the sorta shit that binds you for life.
It’s brilliant exercise, so we can tuck into that fat bastard burger afterwards without a smidgen of guilt.
People like laughing at other people – we can’t help ourselves, to the point where the Germans even made a word for it. And so, as we tuck into our fat bastard burger, we can all enjoy chuckling at the expense of that one friend whose aim was so bad that there are now paint stains on the moon.
Yay.
