MIZZOU c. 9 pm – “Ready to go?” I said as I grabbed his keys. He turned to answer when the door swung open. In the doorway stood a boy with dark hair holding a large water gun.  I immediately reverted to my RA frame of mind, my eyes locked on his and without a single sound I shook my head as a caution against spraying that thing at me. He shrugged, displayed the hunk of plastic and left not long before we headed out to the car. I grabbed my stuff and headed back in saying my hellos to these new aquaintances, hoping they didn’t know my name because I most certainly didn’t know theirs.

MIZZOU c. 10 pm – The television buzzed and flashed to my left as I sat on the bed with my back against the wall, knees bent toward the ceiling and sketch pad balanced against one knee.  The blunt tip of my pencil makes a faint noise that inevitably becomes a lulling mantra as I flesh out the pitcher’s glove and arm.

MIZZOU c. 11 pm – The pencil dropped to the page as I stretched my fingers. I sighed as I picked up the remote and turned off the credits of Family Guy and as I placed it next to me, I heard that familar scratching of pencil on paper. It wasn’t until I heard a boyish giggle from the hall that it occured to me that the noise I had heard was water coursing down the door and not my pencil at all. That brown haired boy – the one who I had cautioned earlier – was outside in the hall with that infernal water gun. I walked to the door and had placed my hand on the handle of the door that was being pelted by stream upon stream of water. In a mad moment of clarity I realized that if I opened the door, obviously, I would be drenched. After a moment of thought I did the next best thing. I yelled. I yelled about the mess coming in from under the door and then I swung it open.

The hall was empty but far from silent as the bricks resounded with footsteps of people who had recently fled an angry visitor. I strode barefoot down the hall to the first open door and peered in at the wet boy sitting so innocently in a chair. He promised he had nothing to do with the “assualt” and I, with nothing I could imagine to say, pointed and asked where the other boys were. He shook his head and as I was stalking back to the puddle in the doorway I heard a cry of ‘all clear,’ turned to see two boys hauling it out of the bathroom and listened to them feign bewilderment as they retreated into rooms to change into something dry.

MIZZOU 11:20 pm – Now you are all on my site. You will have females read about this. They will comment about you to me. I will laugh and divulge every detail they want. I will name my next animal Mizzou.

Take that.

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