Post by Evan on Oct 22, 2014 23:35:26 GMT -5
The screech of squeaky shoes, the sound of objects raining down to the floor, and the shattering of something that sounded like glass echoed through the dining hall. A muffled, male voice could also be heard from a room adjacent as more ‘thuds’ and ‘crashes’ sounded. After a few moments, a red-headed young man burst forth from the double doors that lead to the kitchen. He laughed loudly as he pulled the lid off the whipped cream can in his hand. He shook it up vigorously and sprayed it on a nearby table to test it. He cackled when the semi-solid heavy cream came out of the can in short bursts before coming out in a steady stream. He patted the pockets of his school pants, which were sagging slightly with the additional weight of two whipped cream cans. He was hoping that, maybe, by a stroke of luck, he would be able to run into people that had the same feelings the he did. After making sure he had all of the ammo, he darted out of the dining hall with a smirk crossing his features.
Ever since his arrival, the orange-haired young man had seen Ashford as a boring and colorless place. Most of the prefects were uptight and had their heads up their own you-know-whats. Some students seemed to dislike him for his boisterous attitude, while others seemed to dislike his fun-loving nature, mainly because it led to many egg in the pillowcase pranks as well as coating people in flour pranks. He had heard about the underground rebellion that the school had, but he had not seen much activity. Of course, he was not really interested in causing bloodshed or causing anyone legitimate danger; he was more interested in making things more lively around the seemingly dead school. Most of the other students seemed liked they were in some kind of catatonia. From that moment, he had decided to be a force of change, for better or for worse. He knew that he might get himself into some sticky situations, but he also knew the had persuasion and good looks on his side. Even if his sweet-talk did not work, he could always run like hell.
With those thoughts in mind, the red-eyed young man darted back into the cafeteria, whipped cream can in hand. He snickered to himself before spraying it on a wall, just to make sure the contents came out. A few students passing by eyed him oddly, but, instead of pretending he was not doing anything, he waved to them and smiled brightly. Without warning, he whipped around and sprayed the can into the air, not really caring who it hit. He was kind of hoping that someone else might understand what he was trying to do and offer to join him. After a few minutes of causing general, sticky havoc right inside cafeteria, he darted further down the tables and started spraying more whipped cream around. Students looked at him in disbelief and awe. It was like they had never seen someone have so much fun with an ice cream condiment before. In the back of his head, he was disappointed, because he did not bring anything else. If this actually turns into a food fight, maybe I can get some more stuff, he thought to himself, I just need to stay in this area of the school… He tried to get at least one person sitting at the tables in the cafeteria. What he did not seem coming was the sandwich that was chucked at the back of his head.
A ‘splat’ made the sandwich’s presence known to the young man, though he did not actually know what it was. He whipped around, only to get hit with something from the side. Instead of protesting, though, he let out a hardy laugh and smiled brightly. This was exactly what he was looking for, and boy, did it feel fantastic to be the person who started it. Without a moment’s hesitation, he yelled at the top of his lungs, loud enough for some people to hear.
“FOOD FIGHT!!!”
Not even a moment later, food was flying and the young man was ducking under tables and using people who were caught off-guard as shields, all while laughing at his own antics. This was going to be a great day; he was sure of it. No matter what the consequences were, he was glad that he had decided to do what he did. Now people can have a little fun, at least, he thought, laughing as some strawberry jam stained the white blazer he wore.
