In retrospect, I wouldn't say it was my best idea. It certainly seemed to be a winner at the time. What else could we do with 400 feet of surgical rubber and a carton of eggs? There are, after all, only so many ways to make those two supplies truly entertaining.
It was a lazy Friday afternoon in the middle of the term. A friend who was off from school for the term and working in a hospital supply warehouse had sent a us a care package. Classes were over for the day and the gathering ennui of what to do for Friday afternoon fun was affecting us all. When we opened the care package and found a reel of surgical rubber - you know, the kind that is real stretchy - we all got ideas and that devilish glow in the eyes that precedes any questionable plan. It took but a moments consideration to see that we had adequate rubber to string between the trees in the front yard of the house. The really fortuitous part was that the aim was perfect for the Beta house across the street.
Now you need a piece of background. The Beta guys were our natural enemies just due to proximity. Our fraternity was co-ed and had gone the independent route long ago, which really rubbed the Beta guys the wrong way. It was not uncommon that pranks and tricks were exchanged on a daily basis. The last had involved some rather aromatic jars placed in our house. So we were primed for revenge.
Nancy and Cyndi came up with the half carton of boiled eggs and we were set. With a little ingenuity, we created a pouch for our modified slingshot. We could get more than 200 feet of pull, requiring two of us to hold the egg pouch back against the eager pull of the rubber strands. Nelson and Andy served as our gunnery officers to ensure good aim. The first shot went astray, missing the university presidents house by mere inches. Andy was immediately replaced by Thomas and adjustments made. The second shot spatted rather dramatically on the brick of the Beta house. With just a little more correction of our aim, we were ready for the fateful third shot. It was a direct hit on the window at one end of the Beta house.
Just so you understand, a boiled egg at that velocity punches an oval hole in the glass without breaking the pane. But, the egg then immediately disintegrates, spraying egg bits in a cloud throughout the room. Leaving few symptoms of what really happened until the egg starts rotting in a few days. It was like watching an anthill explode as the people came streaming out of the house and looked around confusedly to see what had made the bang. They never even thought to wonder what we were doing with the reel of rubber tubing behind our backs across the street. It took them almost a day to finally spot the oval hole in the window. Come spring, both houses would be hoisting water balloons at each other via surgical rubber slingshots. After the painful effort that the Beta guys went through to get rid of the rotting egg odor, a non-aggression pact of sorts had been forged: No More Eggs.
And that is how I attempted to make the world a better place. By egg bombing the Betas in an exploit that joined the lore of both houses and led to the first non-aggression pact.
This is my response to Mama Kat's Writer's Challenge. Head on over and read the challenge and visit the linky sites.