I’d like to talk about something serious for a moment. It’s an issue which affects us all, particularly now that the sun is shining and Summer is officially here.
I’d like, if I may, to talk about water pistols.
Once upon a time, I used to love a water fight. Running around with a bunch of friends, firing at each other with small, but well-aimed squirts of tepid tap-water – it was great fun, and most of my memories of childhood summers feature water fights in one way or another.
Back then, pretty much every water pistol was a variation on the one on the left there. They were, as the name suggested, water pistols, holding anywhere between a large mouth and a small cup full of H2O. Invariably, they’d leak out of the bottom of the handle, but we didn’t care. We’d fill ‘er up, run outside, empty the clip into a friend’s laughing face, then nip back inside for a refill.
They were happy days. They were innocent days. They were days filled with slightly damp t-shirts that dried off within 30 seconds of angling the wet bit to face the sunshine.
For years – decades – the flimsy handheld water gun provided hours of entertainment for children everywhere. And then, one fateful day in 1990, everything changed. A small toy company called Larami did something that would send shockwaves around the world. Something that would change the face of water fighting forever, and begin a street-level arms race between children everywhere.
What did they do? They released this:
Originally branded The Power Drencher, the monstrosity above underwent a name change the following year, when it was dubbed The Super Soaker 50.
It revolutionised water fights. No longer were they fun-filled free-for-alls between bunches of laughing kids. Now, whoever could convince their parents to splash out on one of these had a massive upper hand. No more tiny spurts of water, the Super Soaker 50 could blast an arc of water over 50 feet (hence the name). No longer did the shooter have to run inside and hastily refill. The pressurised reservoir on this bad boy held enough ammo to take out half the estate, while still leaving enough over to provide a refreshing, if slightly plasticky drink on the way home.
Whoever had the Super Soaker had the power, and as soon as one made it into your circle of friends, water fights were never quite as much fun ever again. Unless you were the one with the pump action water cannon in your hands, in which case your enjoyment levels went through the roof.
And that may well have been the end of it, had the Super Soaker 50 not proved to be such a roaring success. Newer, more advanced Super Soakers began to appear on the market, promising new and interesting ways to drench everyone you’d ever met.
There were Super Soakers with two tanks, Super Soakers with four tanks. Super Soakers that could shoot round corners, and Super Soakers you could cunningly set up to blast the shooter in the face, for those times you relented and gave your friends a shot of your next generation water-based weaponry.
And with each new water blaster that emerged, the entertainment factor of the battles continued to slide. Those little squirts of water were fun. Getting hit point blank in the face by a blast powerful enough to tear your skin from your cheeks? Not so much.
Kids who didn’t have Super Soakers suddenly had to get one, just to be able to mount some kind of defence. Those who couldn’t convince their parents to stump up the cash spent all their time either dripping wet, living in constant fear or fleeing for their very lives.
And then, in 2005, the next evolutionary step happened. A step which I believe will one day lead to the death of the water fight.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Super Soaker: Arctic Shock.
For those of you unfamiliar with this water gun, the clue’s in the name. This doesn’t just hold water. Oh, no. This holds water inside a compartment with a core of ice.
No longer do combatants run the risk of simply having holes punched clean through their heads by high pressure water blasts. Now they also have to contend with the fact that said water is frickin’ freezing.
If you’ve never been on the receiving end of a blast from one of these things, you can’t ever fully understand what it’s like. I can only liken it to being stabbed by an icicle. I live in the Highlands of Scotland, so I’m no stranger to chilly weather, but the water in these things reaches whole new levels of cold.
As soon as the water hits, all the air leaves your body in one sharp, spluttered breath. An area of about thirty centimetres around where you were struck becomes instantly drenched, and so whatever clothing you are wearing sticks to your skin, amplifying the numbing, gnawing cold a thousand times over, until you’re not sure if you’ve been hit by water or a stream of liquid nitrogen.
You stagger wildly. Noises come out of your mouth – noises you’ve never heard before. Noises which will haunt you for the rest of your life. You try to breathe, but your chest is heaving and your body is shaking and you realise you’re slipping into shock. You wonder how your face got wet, and then you realise – it’s because you’re crying. Sobbing so uncontrollably that you don’t even notice the person who shot you taking aim at some other unprotected area of your body.
The second shot sends you over the edge. A deep-rooted survival instinct kicks in and you lash out, desperately trying to get your hands on the gun, to stop them shooting you, to end the pain. You find yourself shouting and swearing. You’re no longer playing a game, you’re out for blood. For vengeance. And nothing will stand in your way.
Now, I have a seven-year-old son, and we used to have regular water fights, until he got an Arctic Shock. One blast from that thing, and I’m out for the day. I’ll be in bed with a flannel over my face, wishing I’d never been born, thanks very much.
Likewise, on those occasions I’ve seen my son or any of his friends struck by one of the freezing jets of water, it has ended in floods of tears. Which begs the question, if no-one can stand to be hit by it, what’s the point?
I’ve come to the conclusion that the Super Soaker: Arctic Shock is the nuclear weapon of water pistols. If every child in the world had one, no water fights would ever take place again. The first time you’re on the receiving end becomes the victim’s very own Hiroshima. You experience first-hand the damage the thing can do, and you decide then and there that you never ever want it to happen again. You buy your own Arctic Blast, hoping to never have to use it, but knowing that the fact you own it at all will act as a deterrent for those who would otherwise Arctic Blast you without remorse.
Want to know more about the history of the Super Soaker? Check out iSoaker.com.
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July 7th, 2009 at 11:45 pm
http://gizmodo.com/gadgets/obsession/squirt-gun-fanboy-collects-every-super-soaker-ever-321787.php – this dude owns the Arms Race – lol