Today at lunch I did a very child-like thing.
In order to get the full effect of "child-like", you'll need the complete situation.
Gang 408 (Room 408 plus a few extraordinary individuals) decided to eat at our college's swank-fest, known as the Faculty Club.
It's not a black tie affair, just a finer dining experience than the student union. I ordered Grilled Tilapia Napoleon, with a Tomato Basil soup starter...it was delish. Everyone seemed to be enjoying their food. Then came the dessert tray. Deutsch and I decided to split a strawberry shortcake. We both like our sweets, a lot, but when it came down to the last morsel of strawberry goodness...the claws came out.
Were we fighting over who got the last bite? I guess you could say that. The loser was the unlucky soul to have the last spoonful.
Deutsch took what he thought would be his last spoonful and nudged the remaining shortcake in my direction, saying "yours". I spooned half of the the morsel, nudged it back to him and said "yours".
Deutsch has these moments where his eyes flash, his grin turns up, and his head cocks to the side like he's about to tell the best "yo mama" joke you've ever heard. It scares the crap out of me. For our purposes we'll call this the "hit 'em with a kitty wig" look. If you're confused, it's best you stay that way.
Anyway, he spooned up half of the half I left on the plate, nudged it back, and said "yours". In astonishment I looked at him and said "are we really gonna play this game?", to which he responded with the "hit 'em with a kitty wig" look. T, Rascal, Ash, Libbs, Baum, and Battle Axe knew my goose was cooked, but the battle lines had been drawn; I had to try.
It got pretty disgusting. We eventually began fishing for crumbs in the strawberry syrup; ending each conquest with a smart elic "YOURS". It seemed this exchange would never end, until T and Rascal devised an evil scheme to end it.
Ok, neither one of them know evil; "clever" is likely a more appropriate adjective.
The crumbs kept getting crunchier with every turn. I thought is was strange, but brushed it off for the sake of the game. Until I noticed a rather large chunk appear in the midst of the syrup, one that had obviously not been there before...Deutsch was hovering over the plate. I immediately thought the disgusting chunk came from him. Let me just tell you, I thought I was going to die. Maybe that's dramatic, but there are few things that put me in that state: snakes, loud/surprising noises, and bodily fluids. I count the "chunk" as the last one. Grossed out yet? You should be, I don't think we could be friends if you liked that sort of thing.
Deutsch looked at me with surprise, he apparently thought the same chunk came from me. Across the table I could see Rascal shaking as if something was pretty darn funny. T informed me of their plot to end the childishness, they were throwing Rascal's pie crust in our syrup. Tricky, tricky little women!
I folded in the end, too much for me to handle. I maintain that I would have won, had I not been interrupted by the gross body flake I thought was floating in my field of destruction. We shall war again Deutsch, we shall war again.
-Lil E
In order to get the full effect of "child-like", you'll need the complete situation.
Gang 408 (Room 408 plus a few extraordinary individuals) decided to eat at our college's swank-fest, known as the Faculty Club.
It's not a black tie affair, just a finer dining experience than the student union. I ordered Grilled Tilapia Napoleon, with a Tomato Basil soup starter...it was delish. Everyone seemed to be enjoying their food. Then came the dessert tray. Deutsch and I decided to split a strawberry shortcake. We both like our sweets, a lot, but when it came down to the last morsel of strawberry goodness...the claws came out.
Were we fighting over who got the last bite? I guess you could say that. The loser was the unlucky soul to have the last spoonful.
Deutsch took what he thought would be his last spoonful and nudged the remaining shortcake in my direction, saying "yours". I spooned half of the the morsel, nudged it back to him and said "yours".
Deutsch has these moments where his eyes flash, his grin turns up, and his head cocks to the side like he's about to tell the best "yo mama" joke you've ever heard. It scares the crap out of me. For our purposes we'll call this the "hit 'em with a kitty wig" look. If you're confused, it's best you stay that way.
Anyway, he spooned up half of the half I left on the plate, nudged it back, and said "yours". In astonishment I looked at him and said "are we really gonna play this game?", to which he responded with the "hit 'em with a kitty wig" look. T, Rascal, Ash, Libbs, Baum, and Battle Axe knew my goose was cooked, but the battle lines had been drawn; I had to try.
It got pretty disgusting. We eventually began fishing for crumbs in the strawberry syrup; ending each conquest with a smart elic "YOURS". It seemed this exchange would never end, until T and Rascal devised an evil scheme to end it.
Ok, neither one of them know evil; "clever" is likely a more appropriate adjective.
The crumbs kept getting crunchier with every turn. I thought is was strange, but brushed it off for the sake of the game. Until I noticed a rather large chunk appear in the midst of the syrup, one that had obviously not been there before...Deutsch was hovering over the plate. I immediately thought the disgusting chunk came from him. Let me just tell you, I thought I was going to die. Maybe that's dramatic, but there are few things that put me in that state: snakes, loud/surprising noises, and bodily fluids. I count the "chunk" as the last one. Grossed out yet? You should be, I don't think we could be friends if you liked that sort of thing.
Deutsch looked at me with surprise, he apparently thought the same chunk came from me. Across the table I could see Rascal shaking as if something was pretty darn funny. T informed me of their plot to end the childishness, they were throwing Rascal's pie crust in our syrup. Tricky, tricky little women!
I folded in the end, too much for me to handle. I maintain that I would have won, had I not been interrupted by the gross body flake I thought was floating in my field of destruction. We shall war again Deutsch, we shall war again.
-Lil E
2 comments:
Kelly said...
LOVED this! You named me Rascal?! haha!
Anonymous said...
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH
o, and ffs, we need to change the title of your blog from "Demo- Outdoorsy" today...