| Hello sports fans, welcome back for another rousing edition of "stuff Matt would much rather be doing than his calc homework that is due at 12:30"! Boy, have we got a doozy for you this week. To set the mood, about two hours prior to the weekly Thursday festivities, I went downstairs to the hall living room to "do my calc" by which I mean find some sort if distraction, any distraction, up to and including, hitting myself in the head with a six pound salami. fortunately, not only was there no salami in sight, but several of my fellow Stephonians were in the process of "teaching themselves ju-jitsu from a thirty year old book" which mainly entailed them throwing each other around the room, getting pissed, and actually fighting (in case you haven't figured it out, I'm in a bit of a "quotation mark mood" this week). Now, as fascinating and scintillating as I find derivatives and integrals to be, they just can't compare with watching grown men flip each other. Soon I too was embroiled in the affair, exhibiting my vast repertoire of martial arts skills (i.e. two ways to block a knife, how to get out of a two hand choke hold, and this really neat nerve punch that makes peoples' arms go numb). Allright lets be honest, I wasn't even messing around with the blocks and holds. I spent the hour running up to people, punching them a few times in the arms, and then cavorting away laughing like a maniacal Woody Woodpecker. This persisted until one of the hall residents, Adam "Pracht"(that's actually just his last name), tackled me and forced me to fight like a man. After doffing my spectacles, I proceeded to unleash my own patented brand of ass whupping on him, namely my "big brother" style wrestling, of which Dave is well acquainted, where I try to sit on people. Okay, so maybe "ass whupping" isn't the proper term, it may be more accurate to say that I "barely held my own" but it was a vicious fight none the less. when I suddenly realized that it was ten past eleven, I used this as an excus..i mean..good reason..to end the fight. I quickly donned my traditional loopy black fighting togs, but as I went to put on my new ninja like shoes that my dad got me a couple weeks back, I found out that I had done some sort of serious damage to my toe. I'm quite sure it is "broken" (you all know what a hypochondriac I am, it's probably just bruised, but it hurts enough to make me cry like a sissy boy), so I had to wear my less maneuverable sandals for the evening. As I mentioned last week, we intended to spring an ambush on Pearson in retribution for them not coming out. I ran (okay, hobbled) about recruiting for the evening, and eventually had seven or eight guys formed up. At this point I gave my battle plan and we all moved out, at about a quarter till. Our signal for action was when Pearson yelled "happy loopy day Stephenson", we answered in unison from our various points of deployment with,"suck it Pearson", and then all of our pieces fell into place at the same time. Creepy and Sawyer were stationed just around the corner from their FE, and at the signal rushed around and up the FE, to spray the announcers from behind. Pracht, John, and Ethan were hiding over by Sellards, and at the signal charged the Pearson porch, from which they could hit the guys on the FE on that side. The third party of our little ambush force was Chris, Isaac, and myself, who were stationed up on the grassy knoll by Battenfeld with the balloon launcher. We had headed over earlier, sneaking behind BF so pearson wouldn't see us, and found evidence that BF would be fighting this week. They already had a hose attached, and with no one around, so I promptly unscrewed it and tied several knots in it to ensure we would not be struck from behind. For further insurance, I actually went up to the BF side door and knocked, and when one of their guys, in the middle of preparing balloons, answered, I made a request that we be given ten minutes to clobber Pearson before they started in on us, which they granted. So, when the signal came, the the three of us began to rain down our aquatic artillery from a good several hundred feet away. I told Isaac to specifically not aim at people, as I didn't want to deal with the inevitable lawsuits that would result from 75 mph balloons, but they were still effective splashing of the wall behind them. We were far away, and any reports I tried to gather from guys closer to the action were garbled, but overall it was agreed that we soaked them. The Pearsonites finished their yells, and then went back inside, not to be seen again. Since we supposedly still had a reprieve, we began to march back to the hall for reloads. BF, however, deciding that this was their best chance to attack, began throwing balloons at our backs. Luckily they were bad shots, and we strategized as we continued to the hall. Ethan, John, and Pracht went around behind BF to scout their forces, and the rest of us went for reloads. As we neared our hall, balloons began to fall amongst us. Since we were to far away to be receiving fire from BF, that left our guys on our FE. Sure enough, three of them were up there, chortling and chucking balloons. Isaac rushed ahead, initially, I thought, to pick up the gun he had left at the hall. However, shortly after there were screams on the FE escape, Isaac was left triumphantly on the third floor, and we were able to refill in peace. After everyone was locked and loaded we headed back, and began a hammer and anvil attack. A few steve guys rushed behind, and met up with the main force on the other side, near their two side doors and main fire escape. We set up camp here, and sure enough, the enemy soon began the typical run-out-the-door-throw-some-balloons-and-retreat strategy. The exception being that this time they had prepared trashcan lids to serve as shields from our sprays. Our guys were fairly spread out, so I ended up taking the brunt of an attack from three BF's, although Chris did swoop in behind them in the end to get off a few good shots. The pathetic part is that for the 7 balloons they used on me, only 3 hit, and only one of those burst, all of this within ten feet of range. They soon had their hose reattached, and were using it to keep us back from the hall. Micah was not participating this week, and it seemed that there was little to gain from rushing the hose, so we merely stayed out of it's range. The guy on the hose, fearful of a kinker, couldn't move more than three feet from the faucet, so we were for the most part unimpeded by him. I sent a few men around behind Watkins to come down from above, and soon we had every door staked out by at least two guys. I went around to the other side to check on the short hose that had been set up there, and found several Steve guys already in place watching him and the exit, and keeping him occupied. John was even camped on the secondary FE, in case they tried to be sneaky. After another trip of reloads, I got back and found out that not only had Derek rushed the long hose, kinked it, unscrewed it, and stolen it, but we had taken it's user hostage. The hall itself was out of balloons by this point, which left only the guy on the short hose putting up resistance. After our hostage reasoned with him a bit, he agreed to a ceasefire, and went inside, at which point we released our prisoner. After tying the captive hose to their FE in several interesting knots , we sat back to gloat and revel in our glory. It was at this point that I checked my watch, and saw that it had only taken us twenty minutes to devastate not one, but TWO separate halls! SUCIT has truly become a well oiled machine, in which we all work together with amazing teamwork, the only thing other than guts and cahones that our rival halls lack. We went back to the hall early, and Chris, Isaac, and I retreated to our game lair (their room where we have a N64, Playstation, PC, two Gameboys, and a foot high stack of Punisher comics) for our traditional post LD celebration, which consists of playing lots of violent video games and eating pizza. we order from a local chain called Gumby's, and the great thing is that they have a deal for a "Big Ass" (their actual name for it) 20" one topping for twelve bucks. I laugh like a loon everytime I listen to Chris order it, cause we make him actually call it the Big Ass on the phone. Isn't that hilarious? (in retrospect, this entire last paragraph has been rather pointless and unnecessary, but I thought I would put it in to give you a better understanding of what goes on behind the scenes at a water war) Well, gonna go now, ciao and toodles everyone Billy Goatgruffe ps oh yeah, I decided not to go to calc, spent all the time writing this report. eh. |