Marshmallow Warfare
Posted by The Muffin Lucario on Friday, January 28, 2011
Under: School
I typed out this huge thing about the marshmallow war earlier, and for some reason it deleted itself. I got this pop-up that said 'Your session has expired'. And then it logged me out, and poof, my post was gone. :/ I tried to rewrite it, but this obviously won't be as good as the first version was.
About a week ago, Mr. Wiest presented us with an activity with yarn to represent the complex system of allies present during World War I. During that class period, he told us that probably next class we'd have the highly anticipated marshmallow war. Except he wasn't there the class after that. Instead, this boring substitute made us take a listening test. And he wasn't there the next day, either. That same sub made us watch a movie about something we weren't even learning about anymore. But today he was here, and today, at long last, was the day of the marshmallow war.
Today was a C-day, which meant I had social studies first period. I walked into class pretty refreshed, since I fell asleep on the bus (=P). Mr. Wiest started the class by reviewing a homework assignment we had a few nights ago. Then, he announced that we'd be having the war.
"You'll be using a weapon that has terrorized kids for the past ten years," Mr. Wiest explained, walking around the room in search of the bag of marshmallows. "The terrible... the horrifying..." He held up the bag. "Marshmallow!"
He went over some basic instructions; if you were hit anywhere with a marshmallow, you were dead. The war would be taking place in the catwalk; a long hallway with windows for walls that stretched between two parts of the building. Specifically, we'd be fighting in a sort of square-shaped area towards one side that was bordered by heavy doors. We were to not destroy the marshmallows, and we could definitely not eat them. Safety glasses had to be worn at all times. He pulled out a cardboard box full of blue-rimmed safety glasses, and instructed us to grab a pair and then follow him to the catwalk. On the way there, Mr. Wiest stopped at Mrs. L's room, and randomly threw a marshmallow in. I don't know what or if it hit anything, but it was sort of funny nonetheless.
When we got to the point in the catwalk, Mr. Wiest divided us into two teams. Most of the popular kids were in the group opposite of me, figures. We walked to opposite sides of the room, where tables and folding chairs (and in my team's case, a chest of drawers) were propped up against the wall. People instantly started dragging them out, setting them up so they resembled trenches. Kids hurried to crowd behind the trenches. In my team, all the guys got there before the girls, so we were stuck practically standing out in the open. Mr. Wiest handed out a single marshmallow to everyone. For a few moments, we stood there with our marshmallow in hand, anticipation racing through the air. Then, Mr. Wiest shouted that the war had begun!
Within seconds, marshmallows were flying through the air like grenades. Kids were ducking, dodging, and throwing marshmallows left and right. I soon discovered that I wasn't very good at chucking marshmallows.
I took my first marshmallow, and tossed it overhand. It smacked into the enemy trench, and fell to the ground. Determined, I swiped another marshmallow that was laying around off the ground, and also threw it overhand. It fell straight to the floor halfway down the battlefield. I tried again, this time throwing underhand. The marshmallow flew straight at the ceiling, and dropped to the ground far from the enemy. From then on, I gathered up any marshmallows that were near me and gave them to the guys behind the trenches, who had much better aim and skill than I did.
Despite how me and the other girls were wide open, we seldom got hit. I died once; a marshmallow fell on my foot. I tried to dodge it, but it was too crowded. Thankfully, every few minutes Mr. Wiest would stop and bring everyone back to life. We fought for about four rounds before he made us go back.
But, there was a bit of a problem... Mr. Wiest had locked his keys inside the classroom! Brooke, the snobbish teacher's pet, was sent to the office to retrieve the vice principal, who opened the door for him, laughing. Mr. Wiest sighed, "It's just one of those days..."
And, now for the unrelated quote of the day:
"Three... two... one... Give me the finger!" ~Mr. D
About a week ago, Mr. Wiest presented us with an activity with yarn to represent the complex system of allies present during World War I. During that class period, he told us that probably next class we'd have the highly anticipated marshmallow war. Except he wasn't there the class after that. Instead, this boring substitute made us take a listening test. And he wasn't there the next day, either. That same sub made us watch a movie about something we weren't even learning about anymore. But today he was here, and today, at long last, was the day of the marshmallow war.
Today was a C-day, which meant I had social studies first period. I walked into class pretty refreshed, since I fell asleep on the bus (=P). Mr. Wiest started the class by reviewing a homework assignment we had a few nights ago. Then, he announced that we'd be having the war.
"You'll be using a weapon that has terrorized kids for the past ten years," Mr. Wiest explained, walking around the room in search of the bag of marshmallows. "The terrible... the horrifying..." He held up the bag. "Marshmallow!"
He went over some basic instructions; if you were hit anywhere with a marshmallow, you were dead. The war would be taking place in the catwalk; a long hallway with windows for walls that stretched between two parts of the building. Specifically, we'd be fighting in a sort of square-shaped area towards one side that was bordered by heavy doors. We were to not destroy the marshmallows, and we could definitely not eat them. Safety glasses had to be worn at all times. He pulled out a cardboard box full of blue-rimmed safety glasses, and instructed us to grab a pair and then follow him to the catwalk. On the way there, Mr. Wiest stopped at Mrs. L's room, and randomly threw a marshmallow in. I don't know what or if it hit anything, but it was sort of funny nonetheless.
When we got to the point in the catwalk, Mr. Wiest divided us into two teams. Most of the popular kids were in the group opposite of me, figures. We walked to opposite sides of the room, where tables and folding chairs (and in my team's case, a chest of drawers) were propped up against the wall. People instantly started dragging them out, setting them up so they resembled trenches. Kids hurried to crowd behind the trenches. In my team, all the guys got there before the girls, so we were stuck practically standing out in the open. Mr. Wiest handed out a single marshmallow to everyone. For a few moments, we stood there with our marshmallow in hand, anticipation racing through the air. Then, Mr. Wiest shouted that the war had begun!
Within seconds, marshmallows were flying through the air like grenades. Kids were ducking, dodging, and throwing marshmallows left and right. I soon discovered that I wasn't very good at chucking marshmallows.
I took my first marshmallow, and tossed it overhand. It smacked into the enemy trench, and fell to the ground. Determined, I swiped another marshmallow that was laying around off the ground, and also threw it overhand. It fell straight to the floor halfway down the battlefield. I tried again, this time throwing underhand. The marshmallow flew straight at the ceiling, and dropped to the ground far from the enemy. From then on, I gathered up any marshmallows that were near me and gave them to the guys behind the trenches, who had much better aim and skill than I did.
Despite how me and the other girls were wide open, we seldom got hit. I died once; a marshmallow fell on my foot. I tried to dodge it, but it was too crowded. Thankfully, every few minutes Mr. Wiest would stop and bring everyone back to life. We fought for about four rounds before he made us go back.
But, there was a bit of a problem... Mr. Wiest had locked his keys inside the classroom! Brooke, the snobbish teacher's pet, was sent to the office to retrieve the vice principal, who opened the door for him, laughing. Mr. Wiest sighed, "It's just one of those days..."
And, now for the unrelated quote of the day:
"Three... two... one... Give me the finger!" ~Mr. D
In : School
This blog is for just about anything that doesn't involve Jo or my artwork. You can expect to see plenty of rants, interesting tales, and updates for various things.
