It was Sunday in the paintball park. George led his strike team through the plywood maze. There was the enemy tower! And the Red team were all looking the wrong way! George and the other Blues burst out of their cover and assaulted the tower, launching hundreds of painball rounds into the structure.
But it was a trap! Caught in front of a large plywood wall, the Blues stood helpless as a hidden automatic marker opened up on them. Even after they were hit it kept firing, spraying the entire area.
Finally it was over. George looked at the wall behind him. It was covered with paintball marks of different colors. But wait - the pattern was not random! Except for blank parts in the shape of the Blues' silhouettes, the plywood wall seemed to form a picture. There was a sailboat - there a couple lounging on the grass - and here was half of a lady with a parasol and a dress with a large bustle. George realized the other half of the lady was all over him.
So, George mused, the Reds have themselves a Pointillist Paintball Marker! Full automatic, insane rate of fire, and with preprogrammed firing patterns matched to its multicolored ball feed. Sure, it took a long time to load and set up - but it could deny an area to the other team in unmatched post-impressionist style.
"This isn't over, Reds!", George shouted defiantly. But it was.