To feign a prolonged illness to avoid work at all costs. Elaborate illnesses such as broken ribs and liver failure are top drawer examples...
Dude, Ray is pulling a grade A Bolter - He told the skipper that his liver and kidneys have packed in and he's on daily dialysis!!!
The more common term for boltgun
Note that heavy assault troops tend to make use of a double-barelled version known as a storm bolter, and support troops and vehicles extensively utilise heavy rapid-fire versions known as heavy bolters.
"Curses! My bolter's jammed!" -The ever-classic Warhammer 40k game Space Hulk
A member of a school or society who happens to be rather good at a particular sport. This coupled with their so called talent at "bolting" pints of usually beer or cider has instilled in them a sense of arrogance.
They are often seen gathering at "bolterfests" which consist of these bolters gathering together and drinking. In order to gain entry, one must bring a "vessel" from which to drink one's preferred drink, suitably a pint in size, however, such examples as a shoe, pencil case and even an ostrich egg have been encountered before.
The ritual of "bolting" is a strict one, which comes with punishments if one fails to bolt correctly. The "straight arm bolt" is engineered for humiliation as the perpetrator is more than likely to spill the contents of his drink upon himself. Other punishments include the "shoe bolt" "straight leg bolt" and "double straight leg shoe bolt" The highest punishment for rule breakers.
"ahh man, did you see that dark knight bolt that pint? what a hero!"
"ahh he plays first team rugby, what a bolter"
The story of 'Bolter the angry' was once told to children to encourage them to behave. It is believed the story is from Viking descent. Over the years there have been many variations to this fable, however most seem to mention a large 'giant' like person, with flames for hair, and shiny white bones for legs. It is believed that if Bolter the angry did not get his favourite breakfast, brought forth by flaxen haired maidens, he would eat a small child each minute until the breakfast was put before him.
Through the ages this myth has travelled. To this day some believe Bolter can be seen walking the length of Kentish Town, looking for his next child meal. Some say he has been seen drinking copious amounts of Rum. No flaxen haired maidens have ever been sighted.
Bolter: I said no bubble, extra sausage! Someone go and fetch me that toddler