The Demon M4A1
I'm writing this post about the M4A1 I bought from Amos a number of years ago. It looked like an unimpressive, very typical CA M4A1 with a beat up metal body, a green buttstock, MIAD grip, and green handguards installed. For some reason, Amos had put a cheap looking TM tri-barreled pump shotgun M203 on it which completely ruined the aesthetic look and the ergonomic feel of the gun. Nevertheless I decided to try it out at the Ambush Anonymous field.
When I held it, I felt an uncontrollable urge that I can't describe. I sprinted through the field and sought out all who opposed me. Without so much as thinking about aiming, my bursts would find their unfortunate target. The gun had a horrible hop up which lobbed the bb's out lamely. It was heavy and unwieldy but I could not resist. $500 later and I owned that Classic Army M4A1.
At the gun's first game at XT, my front sight post was shot out. I was disappointed at the time, but I wouldn't need a front sight where I was going.
I already had a TM AUG, and a TM M14. Having seen so many people upgrade guns and have them fall apart immediately after, my philosophy was to always keep the guns stock. But for some reason I just couldn't resist the urge to upgrade the CA M4A1. I took off that atrocity of an M203 and told Amos to go wild.
The upgrade process was not as "technical" as most of the guntech jobs I've witnessed him perform. I recall over 2 nights of 12 hours each, he was more performing an arcane ritual than anything resembling his normally precise mechanical gunteching. The gun demanded more than expertise, dexterity, and competency. It demanded complete dedication, his unflinching focus, and more of his blood being drawn than I was comfortable with (at the time).
But in the end, I was rewarded with an unbeatable toy gun to take with me to XT. Over time the gun has demanded more work. A trigger master was installed, requiring another multi-day vigil of worship from my guntech to properly exalt it. Just in the last month, every competent M4 guntech in the province (and several outside) was called upon to figure out how to get *semi auto to work*. After about a week I got my gun back and semi auto indeed worked, though safety was still nonfunctional. I heard ThunderCactus referred to it as the "Demon Gun". A gun like that simply cannot be labelled safe.
A few days ago, after arriving at Claybank and helping set up Manitoba Ivan's tent, I asked Amos for a more detailed description of what he had to do to get semi-auto to work on my gun. His eyes glazed over, and he began to speak in tongues. He keeled over and threw up six times before collapsing. Heavy wind battered the campsite immediately as the skies darkened and rain erupted. Amos is feeling kind of better but hasn't been quite the same since I asked. I learned that I cannot expect to demand an explanation of the gun. The gun expects to make demands upon me.
I take the gun with me into battle often. While all around I hear cries of "CALL YOUR HITS", my punishing wall of polycarbonate ensures all who are touched by the gun are marked forever by the experience. It wounds them, deeply, somewhere sacred and hidden inside their very soul. There is no person capable of pretending they have not been hurt thusly. With every hit I hear a callous laughter echo through my surroundings. It took me a moment initially to realize the laughter was projecting out of my own lungs, willed by forces unknown.
I put the damned thing away once, after I had briefly sated its lust for chaos and the thrill of battle. I disconnected the battery, locked it in my gun safe, and then went to bed. I fell into a deep trance and I dreamt. I heard it call out to me in the darkness of my bedroom. It whispered as if its maw was but inches away from my ears begging me to unleash it. It growled and groaned, and urged me accept its true nature and to revel in the glory of victory over my enemies. It told me many terrible secrets. The voice deepened and began to rumble with rage. It said that I am but a toy to the gun, but that someday if I am worthy plaything I will unlock its true potential.
I awoke to the rumbling of a motor, as though nearby a trigger master had just been plugged in. I turned on my light and saw the gun sitting there next to my bed. The battery was plugged in. There was a full magazine inserted. The selector switch was set to automatic.
I know that eventually I will invoke the true name of the Demon Gun. I fear for when that day will come.
For all of you who would dare trifle with arcane powers far beyond your comprehension, and willingly offer said powers your eternal soul for the sake of a petty hobby... I highly recommend Amos for all of your divining, ritualising, and other gun related work.