The pie slams into the wall a full yard away from your face. It looks like all his muscles didn't give him any accuracy. You grin at your luck as the jock sneers and walks away.
Behind the wall the outstretched fingers of your right hand brush the edge of wood. If you could just inch your body a little more to the right, you could grab the edge and pull yourself free. You start to slide your body to the right as the next thrower steps up.
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