food fight

And then it hit me. A smack in the face with a hot chili cheese corndog as it glided down my face into my mouth and ears. It was oozing out of every orifice. The cheese had the texture of raw chicken vomit.  It seemed like it hadn’t been melted enough. The stick broke in half as if it had hit concrete when it hit my bony cheek. It was slow motion like and felt like my life had come to a complete agonizing stop. Our lunch had turned into a ferocious game of mortal combat. The tables had been transformed into forts and barriers to protect us from our enemies. My blue and white striped shirt had a menu of a wide variety of food. Kids were pouncing off the tables and soaring through the air. Others had baskets of food that were being chunked across the lunchroom. At this point we had divided ourselves In teams, almost like capture the flag. Martin came directly up behind me before I threw my so called meal and smacked me with a spoon until I turned strawberry red. Victory was ours when all joined forces and attacked the principle.