Don't Throw Yellow Snow

I have a war going on with my roommate. It's not a war about freedom, land, or money. It's isn't a war fought over religious beliefs or even the miller light debate(tastes great!).

Our war....is about snowballs. And what a vicious war it is.

Let me start from the beginning. It snowed some last week. Not a lot....but enough. After work one day, I was sitting in my bedroom, typing away at the computer. Trian walked in to tell me something....ok, that's normal enough. But as I turned around, I saw a devilish grin on his face. He had that look in his eye... the same look a pedophile gets when he visits Disney World. Suddenly, I put two and two together (that makes 4)....but it was already too late. His arm was in it's final descent. All I had time to do was yell "nureuiaoooo". And then it hit me. A snowball. Not a large snowball. Nothing big enough to damage anything in my room. It was just large enough to damage my pride.....and make my arm pretty cold.

Well, I couldn't just let that go. So, lucky for me, it snowed last night. I spent hours plotting my revenge. Hit him when he wakes up? Maybe when he gets out of the shower? No....these were all too easy. He would be suspecting it. I decided to hit him in a very uncomfortable place (like the back of a Volkswagen?). At work.

Because of the snow, the office was empty. So I snuck out one of the back doors and grabbed a handful of snow. Not too much...just enough so that he knows what I've done. Then I walked past his cubicle and started chatting....

me: "Hey Trian, got much work today?"

Trian: "No, not really. It's quiet. What are you up to?"

me: "Well, I thought I'd hit you with a snowball!"

...and I hit him. I hit him good. And then I ran away like a little girl.

Let the games begin.