Go Find Yourself A Pickup Game Of King Of The Hill Day!
What were you gonna do? Go down to the gym on your lunchbreak and do thirty minutes on the elliptical machine in the hopes that the sweat in your eyes will blur out the visions of "Messy Suicide" that have been keeping you going all morning? Nothing better for someone who feels like a cog in his or her own life than to get on a machine that sends your legs dancing like a bitch but don't go nowhere. Your ideas are always wrong. It's getting really dull for the four adults and one child employed to watch your every move by the architects of an all-encompassing conspiracy that reaches the highest levels of world power (something about a bauble that glows in the dark and is missing. missiles have been redirected).
If there's one thing Girls Are Pretty is good for it's being right about shit. And Girls Are Pretty has never been righter about anything than it is about the fact that you should go walk through the park until four guys and girls in business casual sitting on a small hill shout out "We need a fifth. You down yo?" You'll suddenly realize you want nothing more in this bitchfuck of an existence than to send a total stranger to the valley of a hill with a slap of your Bostonian shoesole to the neckbone. You thought you played hardcore when you were kids? Now it's a goddamn metaphor for every decision you've made since you were thirty one. Middle-management hoes'll bite straight through ankle cartiledge to send you from all fours to a screaming bellyslide.
It's gonna be a good time I said it's gonna be a good time.
First thing you should do is make sure everyone's on the same page as regards weaponry. "Strapped or clean?" you should ask. If it's strapped, anyone could be packing anything from a swiss army knife to a Tek-9 and it's all fair game. In a strapped bout of King of the Hill, you should sacrifice the first lunge up the hill and instead hop atop your opponents' backs, letting them slide out from underneath you. As that body wriggles out away you should be able to tell where they're packing what. It's about knowing your opponent.
In fact, don't try to take the hill till the fourth king has fallen. This way, pulling the cocksuckers down, you can get an idea of how they defend their crown. Do they use fingernails or teeth? What's their center of gravity? Do they have any shards of broken glass tucked into their socks waiting to open up the palm of your hand. That shit's big with motherfuckers from publishing.
Once you know who you're up against, ball's in your court. Strategy only goes so far. Eventually your just gonna have to bite someone in the twat and drag her down the hill with your goddamn teeth. Can't plan that out. Can't plan on when the shit that makes your blood flow is gonna show its face. But trust me, it's a face a grandma could fall in love with.
The game usually lasts 45 minutes, since everyone needs about seven or eight minutes each way to and from the hill to get back to work before lunch is over.
Happy Go Find Yourself A Pickup Game Of King Of The Hill Day! Fight Club is for faggots who are too scared to fuck.