We aren’t the types to use the word YOLO in a sentence, let alone all by itself, but when we were asked to invent and lead an activity for 200 people at Hyundai’s “Epic Play Date” event just outside Santa Barbara, we knew we had to do something EPIC. YOLO. You only live once.

To us, that means you only get a certain number of chances to really embarrass yourself in a single lifetime. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

Our activity was inexpertly titled, “1001 Uses for Tinfoil” — but we decided on just one use: giving all the participants immortality through light combat. Easy enough, right? YOLO. As we sat “backstage” layering tin foil on our bodies with giant, horned viking helmets and cooking ourselves in the oppressive midday sun, we heard the cheers of the crowd start to rise. We sauntered down a dirt path to the seated masses of people decked out in full tinfoil Viking warrior regalia. One of us said to the other, “This is probably one of the dumbest things we’ve ever done. Normal people stop when they think something is dumb. We make it dumber.”

And dumberer it got.

We took hold of the microphone handed to us by a frightened MC who scurried away, and greeted the lowly humans. “HELLO, MORTALS.” They laughed. We were serious. “Are you ready?” No, they decidedly were not. But we would make something of them yet. Just watch our mystical introduction yourself…

Participants began by assembling into four tribes and electing a tribe leader. We instructed competitors to equip themselves for the most epic battle they had ever encountered with the strongest softest metal known to all deities — tin foil.

Once armored, we gathered these tin gladiators, these seekers of foil fame and glory to prove their worth in a relay race. Each member ran across the field of battle to their leader who sprayed whipped cream on their face to create the true source of every warrior’s power: A GIANT, UGLY BEARD. It’s a little known fact that whipped cream beards originated when the fiery summits of Olympus and Valhalla clashed in a game of lightning bolt beer pong. Outdoor games are just as hard.

Regardless, the moment arrived when men became boys. And women, girls. Or whatever.

 
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The four tribes fought valiantly. Blood wasn’t shed, but whipped cream flew mightily. Gleams of sunlight danced across our warrior’s armor. In the end, the names of the tribes and faces of those who won are irrelevant. Mortals became everlasting. We were all the victors that day.

Epic, indeed.

Photo of what could possibly be Charlie and Finn (righthand side) by Dooce

This post is brought to you by The New Santa Fe from Hyundai.