A Little Bit Ninja

23: Operation Fan Boy Apparel

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I couldn’t believe that the guys weren’t the least bit curious as to why their dates were dressed as if Noah gave the weather report for today. But then Paul looked up in search of something to dip his shrimp in.

“Hey, where’d the cocktail sauce go?”

And thus it began.

Chapter 23: Operation Fan Boy Apparel

I shot the first volley of ketchup directly onto Landon’s baby blue t-shirt. It was only fitting that he be the first casualty. After all, the guy had made almost every holiday miserable for me for the past three and a half years and it was time for payback. And I never actually said we had a truce. I had said, “maybe” we can call a truce.  And this might be the last chance I have for retaliation.

For a moment the sudden dousing with edible ammo left the boys frozen in shock. Abe was the first to recover, who immediately closed the distance between him and Sammy with two strides, and then relieved his assailant of all her supplies. Her position of upper handedness was short lived. But it didn’t end before his gray button up shirt had sustained a fatal dose of sweet and sour sauce.

Sammy developed some appreciation of my foresight, because if she hadn’t been wearing all that rubber, she would have been doused with every drop of her condiment stores. But instead, it just rolled off her and dribbled across the floor as she fled from Abe’s return fire.

Millie drew Landon’s attention, firing mustard with abandon—payback for mustard flavored cookies. Sucka!—while I turned my efforts to Anton, the only guy in the room who had escaped the first play.

He proved a more evasive prey than the others. Giving a sly smile, he shook his head slowly as if to say, “I totally saw this coming,” before ducking behind the bar and out of my reach. His flight was impressive but in the end I prevailed with a long distance shot from the Chipotle bottle.

When I paused my attack for a moment and looked around me, I noted with dismay that the tides had turned. Erica and Millie had resorted to Sammy’s plan—run. The three of them circled the room with Landon, Paul, and Abe in hot pursuit with their hands full of vinegar, relish, and syrup.

But my distraction cost me. I didn’t notice Anton sneaking up behind me before he dumped spicy wing sauce on my head. Very, very glad I had worn the impermeable jacket just then. Landon had just finished his revenge on Millie, who was now wiping relish from her front.

“Hold her there! I’ve got something special for her,” Landon shouted to Anton.

I guess their enmity was minor enough to set aside in favor of teaming up against me, which was a little disheartening, but the thing that made my stomach drop was a dish we had overlooked at the buffet that Landon now clutched in his hands.

Prahok. My eyes widened as my sensitive sniffer recognized the odor emanating from the now lidless container. For those not in the know, Prahok is a paste made of fermenting fish—as in rotting fish. In a food fight, this would be the equivalent of a, supposedly edible, weapon of mass destruction.