Enjoyed throughout Wisconsin, Miniature Tanks is a groin grabbingly good
time where a group of people, either arranged in rows (facing each other), or in a large circle (facing inwards) get on their hands and knees, shoulder to shoulder.
Everyone marches forwards on the ground, hilariously running into each other. The object of the game is to reach the opposite side of where you are standing, but you cannot stop the motion of the tank.
If you fall over, keep swinging your arms and legs and continue to chant "MI-NI(a)-TURE TANKS". People get walked over, head-butted and bruised, but it's kickass and dammit, it'll put hair on your chest.
Works well in grassy open areas, narrow hallways, and crowded intersections.
The war drums beckon through the valleys with a strength that only the words "Miniature Tanks" (mi-ni-churr TANKS) may follow. Again and again, these heroes among men chant to instill fear, pregnancy, and maybe a bowel movement or two to all those who are unfortunate enough to witness the carnage that is soon to follow.
Ready you're not, here they come... as the chanting begins, the herd lurches onward; leaving a new desolate wasteland (mostly padded grass) in their wake. The amalgamations of such forces often cause Richter scale readings of 6.3-7.1 to Beijing, Shanghai, and all surrounding provinces.
Battered forces often appear belly-up, clutching spleens, or showered in the figurative blood of their peers. Those who remain upright roll onwards with pride, thirsting for the undeniable quench of another round. Miniature Tanks takes the lives of the weak, and instills character in those who survive.
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