Settle it
with foam.
ALBERTAJERKS is a foam dart blaster club, and the event we arrange is a tournament. Enter the club's own circuit, or summon us to run a bracket at your offsite, birthday, or stag. Either way the club rolls up with the fleet, raises the arena, arms every hand, referees every round, and writes the score down where history can find it. You show up, you compete, and you leave with a story your family will eventually ask you to stop telling.
Join the club
Everyone is welcome in the club — kids, parents, grandparents, and whoever they bring. Every bracket is matched to its crowd, so the eight-year-olds get a battle they can win and the office marksmen get one they can lose.
Membership costs nothing, now and later. You pay only to enter specific events — circuit entries and private bookings carry their own price, and being a member never carries one. The club treasury runs on goodwill and recovered darts.
Every blaster in the club stays within local legal guidelines — ours and yours. Everything is blocky, bright, and unmistakably a toy, because Canada's replica rules judge the whole blaster, not the tip. Orange tips stay orange anyway — house rule — and anything entering a bracket goes over the chronograph first.
The tournaments
The club's own tournaments. Open entry.
Somewhere in Greater Edmonton, a fort is about to fall. AlbertaJerks runs its own brackets — open to anyone with a team, no team, or a score left over from last summer. You arrive with nothing; the truck carries the rest, chrono-tested and labeled down to the last dart. Then the whistle goes, and for one glorious afternoon your neighbours find out what you're capable of behind a plywood barricade. The first bracket is forming. Get on the list, and start deciding what your victory speech leaves out.
Get on the list →Book the club. We run the tournament at your event.
Backyard birthdays, corporate offsites, stags, occasions that defy classification — you name the occasion, and the club turns it into a campaign. We plan it, haul it, raise the arena, arm everybody, referee every round, keep the score, crown the champion, and vanish like we were never there. You attend your own event as a competitor, and the bracket is not arranged in your favour. Every booking is custom-quoted — contact us for pricing.
Contact for pricing →The classes
Kids, families, mixed company.
The class for birthdays and anyone who brought their whole crew. Fast enough to be a real battle, gentle enough that the eight-year-olds keep charging the fort — and charge they will, wave after wave, long after the adults have sued for peace. Foam swords and shields cover the ground game, and every blaster is chrono-tested before it gets on the truck: the number on the label is the number in the air.
Adult crews who signed up to take a hit.
The class for corporate teams, stags, and anyone who wants their trophy to cost something. Darts arrive with authority, rounds turn tactical, and somewhere around the quarterfinals your office discovers which quiet coworker was a marksman all along. It stays in the trailer at kids' events — no exceptions, no matter how convincing the twelve-year-old is.
Rated eye protection (ANSI Z87.1 / CSA Z94.3) on every head, no exceptions — competitors, referees, spectators inside the arena. Every blaster — ours or a member's — stays within local legal guidelines, is chrono-tested before deployment, and the classes never mix: Backyard Mayhem runs 50–100 fps, Performance runs 100–150 for adults who signed up for it. The safety brief is the one part of the tournament we play completely straight.
Booking a bracket: how it works
Fill the form below. A jerk reads it the same day and responds with questions or a number. Usually both.
Venue, class, bracket format, run-of-show, logistics. You approve one document and go back to your life while the machinery of a small war assembles quietly in a family garage.
We arrive early, raise the arena, arm everybody, and referee every round. You compete in your own event, and nobody goes easy on you unless you're eight.
Full teardown. Every dart recovered and counted home. The room is returned to its previous condition — trophy excepted.
Straight talk about the money
Joining the club is free, forever. Events are where the gold changes hands. A private tournament is quoted like the campaign it is — headcount, terrain, class, how far the bracket marches — and yes, we are expensive: you're not renting foam, you're commissioning a small war with catering-grade logistics, refereed by people who take your victory more seriously than you do. As for the circuit: entry details arrive when the first bracket does. Get on the list and you'll hear it from us first.
And because people ask: yes, the family still has range — working musicians, a petting zoo that runs bunnies to horses, combat archery, a slackline rig, and a shop that fabricates whatever a bracket turns out to need. Foam is the point now, but the wagon carries all of it. If your finals deserve a live band, ask.