you're stupid enough to want to do this for a career
Actually, if you're in my glorious OTC, it doesn't cross your mind. Because you're normally sitting bolt upright on your roll mat. And you've lit a couple of hexy blocks to keep you warm, while you check your texts on your mobile. If you're both chicks, the other one's got her head in your lap while you braid her hair. Your own hair hasn't seen the light of day for a week now; it's buried under eleven purple and orange beanies, so that your helmet is perched a good six inches above your skull, and the chinstrap has to be extended with brightly coloured twine to keep it on your bonce. Your stag partner hasn't seen her gat for a good half an hour; it's 'somewhere over there on the floor'. You've given up trying to attach a CWS to the other weapon, and it's hanging from a tree branch.
Suddenly, you hear a snapping of twigs in the undergrowth. You chuck a flaming hexy block to see if it moves. Then you use the CWS. But whatever it was doesn't make a sound even after you've chucked that at it.
"Rachel" you whisper urgently
"What is it, Kate, I was literally just dropping off."
"There's something out there."
"Have you carried out the IA drill?"
"Yes, I've thrown hexy at it and giggled coquettishly. No dice."
"Damn. We should really get low."
"Good point. Bit cold though."
"You're right. Let's stand up"
So you stand. Your faces glow pinkly under the soft moonlight, as you have refused every effort to get you into cam cream since day one, given the 'really really really really bad' effect it has on your skin.
The unseen intruder moves again.
You both jump. Your left ammo pouch falls off.
"God. We should, like shoot it." exclaims your oppo.
"Have you got your gun with you?"
"No. It was bit heavy and the metal bits were all cold, so I left it by my tent thingy. It's gone all orange though, and the telescope thing on top has stuck to my mess tins"
"Go and get it. That RSM guy said we should have them all the time"
Panting, your oppo trots off into the darkness. She gets four yards before the comms string catches her under the chin and puts her on the floor like she's been clotheslined by Stone Cold Steve Austin.
"What the hell was that?!" she groans
"You silly," you reply, "it's that string the boys put up so that we could hang our 'ladies things' out to dry. Never mind about your gun, we'll use mine. Here, help me lift it..."
With tremendous effort, you and your stag partner prise your weapon off the forest floor. As you recover, hands on hips, your stag partner eyes it dubiously, covered in mud and home to a family of woodlice. She picks up a twig and sticks it through the triggerguard, lifting it up to pass to yo.....
"God, Rachel, be careful," you cry - "someone might hear us!"
"Sorry" she sniffs, miserably.
"Oh God, it's all empty now. I need more bullets. Don't know where my bullet pouch has gone actually...have you got a magazine on you?"
Smiling hopefully, Rachel proffers the copy of Cosmo she'd been reading by the light of a right angle torch....