RIP to them two birds... took me bout fiftyleven stones tho

A clearing in the woods. We’re with Norm, a young boy. A voice in the distance finds him:

“Yo!”
“Yoo!” he answers back.
“Pick up that can and put it on that stump right there. Right next to you.”
“Right here?”
“Yeah”

Norm places it on the stump with his free hand and then wipes the dirt off it. 30 feet away is Raymond, and he peers at it with one eye closed and a tiny rock in his right hand. Norm yells back at him:

“Okay, but hold on! Lemme get out of the way first.”
“Hurry!”

As soon as Norm gets a few feet out of the way, Raymond dips his torso down, cocks his arm back, and rockets an elastic arm forward, hurling the rock towards the can. The rock makes a straight flight for the crumpled soda can and BLASTS it right off the ledge: PNKKK!

“Ayeeeee! Let’s goooo!” shouts Norm in the direction of the pummeled can.

He runs back towards Raymond with one hand pumping a joyous fist and the other holding onto the hem of his shirt, which he is using as a DIY basin: the shirt is holding ~20 of the most almost-spherical rocks that he could find.

Raymond obliges his high-five and then surveys the collection of rocks for another one. He is taller than Norm, with an intense look to him.

“Lemme get this one.”
“Yeah, I liked that one. Great color. I found it over by the river.”
“Stop that”
“Huh?”
“That thing where you quiver your lip while you talk. It makes me nervous.”
“I didn’t know I was doing it.”
“Okay, now take the can and put an another 30 feet back. You see that log right there?”

Raymond points to a clearing with a fallen tree trunk on its side, cutting across the forest.

“Yeah, I do. But…”

Norm makes a quizzed face.

“Something wrong?” Raymond asks impatiently.
“But that… that’s where the bamboo starts. It’s gonna be in the way.”
“Oh I know, bro. Just do it.”
“Oh okay.”

Norm hustles over to the fallen soda can—now dented—still clutching onto his shirt hem with diligence. He runs it over to the log in question. He looks back and between him and Raymond’s line of sight are vertical BARS of thin cylindrical bamboo stalks.

“Alright, get ready!”

Raymond dips his torso down again, coils his body and rockets his arm; but this time his hand releases the rock a bit late. And almost in slow motion, the rock zooms through the clearing, making the elastic flight UP around the bamboo, CURVING as if a frisbee… until it strikes the SIDE of the log, mere inches below the can. The rock bounces off and tumbles into the soil.

“Fuck!” goes Raymond.
“Ooooof!” Norm shouts. “So close!”
“Shut up! I know!”
“Sorry!”

The wind starts to pick up, making the can quiver back and forth on the log. Norm starts trudging towards Raymond again, sweating profusely, holding the shirt rocks steady. Raymond rifles through them.

“You know, maybe you grab 2 or 3 rocks at a time, so that I can always be on can duty. You know, save us some time.” Norm says.
“You got somewhere to be?”
“No.”
“I won’t need two. Watch me get it on this next one.”

The bamboo trees sway with a little more vigor and the both of them take notice of the strong winds.

“Well, uh. What about the next target? And the next one after that? More rocks means you can just keep moving farther and farther.”
“You know what. Gimme three rocks.” Raymond says as if Norm never suggested it.

He then grabs a handful without even looking at them. Norm is disappointed in the lack of inspection, but he runs diligently back to the target.

We’re in close on Raymond’s face as he eyes the target through the agitated bamboo. He coils again but his time he lets out a loud shriek as the rock flings out of his hand: “AHHHHhhh!”

It misses. About 5 feet short.

“Damnit!” shouts Raymond.

Norm, almost reacting out loud, stops himself. He goes to fetch the rock.

Wasting no time, Raymond winds up to throw another rock: he cocks his arm back, hurls it with force and WE FOLLOW it as it flies through the shrubbery, curling past a row of bamboo and flying RIGHT for Norm’s head. He reacts, ducking down.

“Ah!”

The rock whizzes by and STRIKES the can, sending it flying off the backwards off the log.

PNKKK!

“Fuck yeah!” Raymond shouts. He pumps his fist, and exhales.

Norm pops up from his ducked position. He didn't even see the rock connect, but he looks and verifies that the can is on the ground behind the log.

“Whoooooooo!” he shouts.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about!” Raymond yells.
“What a shot! 1 out of 3 ain’t bad!”
“You being smart??”
“No, No. I’m just saying. You didn’t even hit the bamboo once! Where should I move it to next?
“I’m tired of the can.”
“Okay!”

Norm starts walking back to Raymond.

“No! Stay there!” shouts Raymond. “And hold your shirt out.”

Norm, confused, extends the hem of his shirt outward so the basin of rocks is wider, more flat.

“Nope! Both hands.”

Norm holds the hem with both hands, extending the surface of his “table” of rocks even further.

Raymond leans WAY back, cocking his arm down this time and throws the rock straight up in the air.

It ZOOMS past the tops of the trees, slowing its ascent in front of the blue sky above. It parabolises, and begins falling. It drops DOWN through the trees, plummeting straight for Norm. Norm is paralyzed in an upward gaze, watching the rock descend towards him: it’s making a direct flight for the middle of his forehead.

“Ahhh!”

Norm flinches and runs out of the way, tripping over his feet and sending the whole collection of rocks flying everywhere. The thrown rock hits the ground amongst the others. Raymond lets out a belly laugh.

“Ha!”
“Nooo! The rocks.” shouts Norm, to himself.
“Forget about ‘em! Let’s go.” Raymond shouts across the forest.
“But I need them.”
“No you don’t. Come on. Let’s get something to eat.” Raymond says, as he turns around and walks toward the opening of the woods, leaving Norm to follow.

Norm gets up and, with some bass in voice:

“Yes I fucking do!”

Norm digs into the soil, picking up a handful of the rocks on the ground and throws them all, at once, in Raymonds direction. We follow them as they FLY in a cluster towards Raymond’s turned back: half of them are stopped by the bamboo directly in front of him, another few clunk off of large tree trunks further away, until we’re left to follow the flight of one: A perfectly spherical stone careening through the woods, uninterrupted.

Raymond turns around to face what seemed like a shout from Norm.

“Huh?”

As he turns, the flight of the one rock falls into view, just registering in his line of sight before striking him right between the eyes. Raymond falls back, limbs rigid, and hits the ground with a thud.

Norm, 60 feet away:

“Raymond?”

No response.

“Raymond!”

Still no response.

Norm sits down in the same spot where he fell, just past the bars of bamboo, and begins collecting the remaining spherical rocks on the ground around him, inspecting them as he remakes the basin in his shirt.

Before long, the sun creeps down below the horizon line, painting the interior of the woods a deep bluish-orange.

Still no response.