Chapter 12
"Hey Don." It was midday, and 7 year old Don looked from reading on his bed to see his older brother approaching.
"What is it, Hank?"
Hank tossed Don a toy gun, one that shot those little toilet plunger thingies. "Let's play war!"
"War?"
"Yep. I shoot at you, and you shoot at me, and however gets hit is dead."
Don looked down at the gun in his hand. "What if I don't want to fight you?"
Hank blinked as if Don had just said something ridiculous. "That doesn't matter. We're fighting."
"Why are we fighting?"
"It doesn't matter; just shoot at me!"
"But I don't want to!"
"That's not the point. We fight until someone dies."
Don glanced again at his gun, before tossing the weapon on the bed. "I surrender."
"But… but you can't just surrender!"
"I don't want to fight." Don picked up his book again. Hank would go away soon.
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"Hey Don!"
Don suppressed a groan; how many more times was Hank going to ask him to play the stupid game?
"Hank…" Once more, Hank tossed Don the weapon.
"I surrender." Don said before Hank could begin. Hank threw up his hands and glared at the ceiling in exasperation. Then, there was a sudden pressure on his forehead. He looked down, and saw Don with gun extended. There was no ammo in his gun. "I win."
"You shot me?"
"I back stabbed you in the middle of negotiations. In the interests of a faster bringing about of peace."
"But… but that's not fair!" Hank pulled the dart off his head. "And you're a pacifist, you're not supposed to kill me!"
"I didn't kill you. I shot you with a toy dart. If it had been real, it would have been covered in a sleep potion. But now you get to play with me. Come on Hank, let's go have actual fun."
Hank followed his younger brother out of the house, a newfound respect emanating. Next time he would be more careful not to underestimate Don. A pacifist view would seem to make someone more creative in their victories. Hank cataloged this. Who knew, it could come in handy.