(no subject)
My venture into the adventure of childhood. Enjoy....
Murberry street was blanketed in snow as white as porcelain and Christmas decorations glittered brightly like jewels filled with flame. From a distance high above the neighborhood would have looked as though it were made of gingerbread and gum drops, flooded with frosting. Cars whined up and down the street with tremendous effort, wheels struggling to catch in the knee high snow. The chimneys were all fuming, adding to the already gray and drab sky. The snow provided many with the excuse of lazing about with a cup of hot chocolate and too many marsh mellows, while forcing others to pick up a shovel and get straight to work. Amidst all of this peace and tranquility, a battle was being waged. The boys of Murberry awoke that morning and upon seeing the fresh snow and thought of one thing and one thing only. War.
It all began when Arthur Verso took the last chocolate milk at lunch time a week ago. It was Wednesday, there would be no more chocolate milk until Monday when the next shipment came in. The new kitchen manager underestimated the immense thirst for chocolate milk by grade school children. Lesson learned.
Right behind Arthur in the lunch line was Dougan Phlebas, a wise cracker and instigator of black top aggressions. He saw Arthur get the last chocolate milk, but didn’t know it until he got up to the fat lunch lady who handed out the milks. He demanded that she check the fridge when he was told that there was no more chocolate milk. He continued to argue, explaining that in the five years of attending Cooper Elementary that he had never gone without chocolate milk and could hardly believe that they were out. He spent a good few minutes trying to make a point, but the lady told him to take a hike and he snubbed her with his middle finger as he walked way with his tray of food. She just shook her head and turned back to offer 2% reduced fat milk to the next child in line, who requested a juice box instead.
Dougan walked by Arthur and his gang, who were laughing and chatting away, and saw the chocolate milk sitting on his tray completely untouched. Dougan was a grade above Arthur and saw it as his prerogative as an upper classmen to take from the younger children. It was the power that came from being older, a power Dougan was lavish in using. Often Dougan would lie to the sixth graders about his age, explaining that he had been held back a grade and should be amongst them as their peer, but the sixth graders knew better.
Dougan just wanted to be at the top, in a tyrannical sort of way.
Dougan reached out and grabbed the chocolate milk.
“This is mine.” He said with a fierce snarl, in the same manner of speech as the wolf man who appeared sometimes on the weekly horror anthology show that ran on television, of which Dougan was a big fan of.
All the other kids at the table froze abruptly and watched Dougan take Arthur’s milk, he had an evil grin spread across his face. Arthur stood up and turned to face Dougan.
“Give that back Dougan.” said Arthur with calm defiance.
Dougan was slightly stunned, he did not expect a fourth grader to stand up against a fifth grader so confidently. He looked into Arthur’s eyes and did not see the quivering fear that he so often fed off of from the others, but a fiery sort of confidence. It was disarming. Dougan realized that the kids at the 5th grade table were watching him, his image was at stake here. He could not surrender to a fourth grader.
Arthur was no ordinary fourth grader however, he was the youngest of six brothers. Six brothers who would take their turns pushing him around and oppressing him the way older brothers are like to do. He was used to getting pushed around, and thanks to his older brothers he often times pushed back.
“Or else what huh? Tough guy? What’cha gunna do? Huh?” said Dougan, his heart began beating rapidly at the sudden thought of a fight. This sudden disruption in the cafeteria slowly caught the attention of the other students, who were hoping for a fight to occur.
“Just give it back Dougan.” Again in the same calm tone that seemed ready to burst forth with energy. Their noses were inches apart.
“No” said Dougan, and he turned away from Arthur, hoping to end it quickly before things turned raw.
Arthurs hands shot out and grabbed hold of the milk carton. Dougan struggled to hold on. The two of them struggled back and forth, trying to claim the carton for their own, but no one was letting up on their grip. Finally the pressure from both their hands was too much to endure for the fragile construction of the milk carton, and it exploded. Chocolate milk covered Dougan and Arthur. They both looked stupidly at each other, covered in a thin sheen of brown fluid that was terribly cold. The cafeteria burst out in laughter, but Dougan and Arthur were not aware of the raucous behavior of their own peers, they came out of their stupid bewilderment and regarded one another with cold vehemence. Before either of them could swing a fist, as each was wanting to do, the principal walked in between the both of them and took each by the arm. They soon found themselves in the principal’s office, which always smelled of coffee and sweet nutmeg.
That was the beginning. Soon thereafter tensions continued to rise between the two gangs of children. Reports were being made of deliberate attempts to trip the 4th graders by the 5th graders, while the 4th graders attempted to fight back with profane gestures which had no affect on the 5th graders, who used the same foul expressions amongst themselves. Some of the younger classes worried that a giant brawl would occur, damaging the political climate of the playground. Some sought audience with the 6th graders, to provoke them into action. The 6th graders response was to not to worry, they would intervene if things got seriously out of hand. Dougan’s gang was too strong but too few, while Arthur’s gang was too weak while being many. They had no level playing field to settle the score.
That was until it snowed.
It was high noon already, but you wouldn't have been able to tell since the cloud cover was so thick. The street was deeply grooved by passing cars, and showed little damage as an effect of the boys. Just a lone cap lay moist and neglected out in the middle of the street. No one dared to make a run for that cap, not yet at least.
From atop a tree, in a well constructed tree fort, sat several fourth graders who waited eagerly around Arthur. Their faces were rosy red and they breathed out fumes of visible moisture. Arthur was dressed in green camouflage, fashioned after a soldier, one eye closed and the other hidden behind the view finder of a telescope brought over by Andrew Tinselton, who thought that it would be good to use for spying. The boys waited quietly.
Arthur watched as Dougan and his gang made repairs to their snow fort across the street and began expanding it into the neighbor’s yard. One of Dougan’s cronies, a Maxwell Stone, was very interested in learning about the Egyptians. It was said he used all the building blocks in the 1st grade to construct a tower so high that it almost touched the sky. We believed it then, but now it sounded absurd. Regardless of his past achievements, Arthur could not deny that Max was good at building snow forts. He had mirrored the construction techniques with those he found in his book on Egyptian pharaohs, using recycling bins to pack snow into blocks and use them to construct thick walls that were nearly impenetrable by all efforts on the part of the fourth grader.
They also had a giant sling shot, an elastic band with a pouch at the center that needed three people to operate. Where they got it, Arthur had no idea, but he sure wished he had one himself. Their initial charge proved disastrous even before making it to the street. Dougan had a three person team deployed to catapult snow balls deep into Arthur’s territory. The snow balls were launched with such velocity as to cause pain and sometimes bruising. Arthur’s forces were disbanded and forced into momentary chaos before retreating to the tree house.
Many suggestions were made as to how to over come Dougans superior fire power. The Patel twins brought forth the idea that they fill up super soakers with water and spray them in the hope of freezing them into ice statues. This suggestion was met with shared horror and Arthur decided that it was best to have the Patel’s out of the strategic planning. They were down in the brush rebuilding the snow ball supply, arguing amongst themselves about who would win in a fight, an Alien or a Robot.
Arthur broke away from the telescope and began to pace, tapping his nose with his right pointer finger while doing so. Jeffrey Deal, who was known to have a weak constitution and would break out in a fit of tears at the slightest of insults got up and walked cautiously over to peer into the telescope. He let out a shrill squeak and fell back from the telescope. The others started for their shaken comrade but Arthur got to him first.
“What’s wrong Jeff?” asked Arthur with his arm wrapped about his shoulder.
“He...he... mooned me.” He said in almost a whisper. His eyes were welling with tears. Friendly fellow, Jeff Deal, but can be quite a sissy sometimes.
“That dirty mongrel.” said a boy amongst their group, pounding a fist into an open palm. “We can’t let him get away with.... with this craziness!”
“Its ok... we’ll figure out a way... grab you turtle bag Jeff and have a juice box.”
Arthur could not help but stare at Jeff’s neat looking turtle back pack. An idea began to form in his head. It was soft and fuzzy like a pixilated cloud, but slowly condensed and began to take form.
Now he had a plan.
Arthur turned around, a smile on his face as he regarded the others.
"I think I got it.." he said carefully, his words filled with dimmed excitement.
This renewed the faith of the others.
"Well... what's the plan?" said one boy whose voice was muffled by his many layers of clothing.
“They only have one sling shot...” Arthur directed everyone’s attention to the poorly drawn map of the neighborhood and the opposing forts. A depiction of Dougan was also drawn in, with a bestial appearance and a ferocious zig-zagging line for a mouth.
They spoke in a fervent chatter and as Arthur’s plan began to unfold, the other children’s confidence grew and blossomed. When they would be in the 6th grade this battle would be reminisced by the veterans and it would be generally agreed upon by a large majority that it was all thanks to Arthur’s brilliance that they were able to nullify Dougan’s superior fire power. The Patel’s would still bring up the notion that their super soaker attack would have been an easier road to victory, but then again the Patel’s were known to burn ants with a magnifying glass.
It would be about ten minutes before Arthur’s plan would be put into motion.
Dougan watched from behind the wall of his fort. No action from the front of the enemy. The chaos of the earlier attack could only be told through the trampled mess of snow on the opposite lawn, across the street. He was quite impressed with the affect of the sling shot. Not only did it hurt a few of Arthur’s crew, it also broke them apart like house of cards. It was a fearsome thing to behold. He was glad his brother let him use it.
His cronies were diligently packing snow into bins and carrying them in teams of four to stack on top of the others that they had planted. Dougan was instilled with a sense of power, and decided to extend the walls of the fort for the sake of added grandeur.
One of his cronies decided to take a break from making snowballs and walked over beside Dougan to peer over the wall along with him.
“What a bunch of pussies!” said the Crony to Dougan.
Dougan just nodded his head in agreement, but he was still unsure of what to make of Arthur. He stood defiantly to him in front of the entire class of Cooper Elementary, Dougan doubted he would give up so easily.
“So what are you gonna make him do?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” asked Dougan.
“Well aren’t you gunna punish him! I mean that Arthur needs to know whose boss, right?”
“Yea.... yea your right... I think I’ll have him eat a worm in front of the rest of the fourth graders.”
The crony laughed with sadistic satisfaction. Dougan joined in, entertained by the thought of having that stupid faced Arthur eating a worm and the fact that his idea was met with shared enthusiasm.
Suddenly a group of children appeared from the left of the house from across the street, charging across the lawn, hindered slightly by areas of deep snow.
“Shit!” cried out Dougan, “battle stations! Battle stations!”.
Every one dropped what they were doing and scrambled for cover. The three person team rushed out through an opening in the wall of the fort and began loading the sling shot. The two boys leaned out, holding tightly to the ends while the third stepped back, stretching out the elastic band for maximum damage.
The kids across the street stopped, pulled out umbrellas and unfurled them, forming a great big wall of nylon material. The boys in the middle of this circle pulled out their own umbrellas and formed a tight canopy for what appeared to be a massive tent made of
“Fire!” yelled Dougan in a panic.
They launched the densely packed snowball from the fold of the sling shot, setting out like an imaginary bullet from a videogame, and hit an umbrella with a thud, breaking apart and falling to the earth amongst the rest of the snow.
Shit, Thought Dougan. The three person team looked at up towards him, dumbstruck and unsure of what to do next. The moving tent of umbrellas began slowly making its way across the street at this point.
“Start firing damnit!” yelled Dougan, picking up a snowball himself, cocking his arm back as far as it could go and launching it high up in the air.
So that’s what they did. Dougan and his gang picked up as many of their pre-constructed snow balls and began launching them at the enemy. But they were tightly packed and were able to combine the umbrellas like a giant armored turtle shell.
When they landed on the lawn of which was considered Dougan’s territory, they just stayed within the protection of their umbrellas. Dougan yelled and yelled and they continued to pelt snowballs with no effect at all, just that their own supply dwindled.
And then they ran out of good snowballs.
At this point the top of this moving structure of umbrellas opened up, from which came a torrent of snow balls directed towards the 5th graders. Dougan’s walls could offer no protection at this point, they just flew right on over. Down came a hail of white fury. The 5th graders were bludgeoned and made wet by the melting of snow they were now blanketed with.
Many began to flee.
“Come back you cowards!” Yelled Dougan, rivers of ice and water ran down his hair from a recent snowball impact. He turned to face the fourth graders but froze when he saw them lined up without the umbrellas, arms cocked, and Arthur at the lead.
“Do you give up Dougan?” He said with a smirk.
No one was left to help him, they had all fled. In that instant Dougan turned to flee but not before a final volley of snowballs found their mark on or around him.
Realizing they had defeated the 5th graders, Arthur and his gang became wild with delight and began tearing down the fort Maxwell had constructed. They used the snow to build snow men, and enjoyed the remainder of this December day uninterrupted.
Murberry street was blanketed in snow as white as porcelain and Christmas decorations glittered brightly like jewels filled with flame. From a distance high above the neighborhood would have looked as though it were made of gingerbread and gum drops, flooded with frosting. Cars whined up and down the street with tremendous effort, wheels struggling to catch in the knee high snow. The chimneys were all fuming, adding to the already gray and drab sky. The snow provided many with the excuse of lazing about with a cup of hot chocolate and too many marsh mellows, while forcing others to pick up a shovel and get straight to work. Amidst all of this peace and tranquility, a battle was being waged. The boys of Murberry awoke that morning and upon seeing the fresh snow and thought of one thing and one thing only. War.
It all began when Arthur Verso took the last chocolate milk at lunch time a week ago. It was Wednesday, there would be no more chocolate milk until Monday when the next shipment came in. The new kitchen manager underestimated the immense thirst for chocolate milk by grade school children. Lesson learned.
Right behind Arthur in the lunch line was Dougan Phlebas, a wise cracker and instigator of black top aggressions. He saw Arthur get the last chocolate milk, but didn’t know it until he got up to the fat lunch lady who handed out the milks. He demanded that she check the fridge when he was told that there was no more chocolate milk. He continued to argue, explaining that in the five years of attending Cooper Elementary that he had never gone without chocolate milk and could hardly believe that they were out. He spent a good few minutes trying to make a point, but the lady told him to take a hike and he snubbed her with his middle finger as he walked way with his tray of food. She just shook her head and turned back to offer 2% reduced fat milk to the next child in line, who requested a juice box instead.
Dougan walked by Arthur and his gang, who were laughing and chatting away, and saw the chocolate milk sitting on his tray completely untouched. Dougan was a grade above Arthur and saw it as his prerogative as an upper classmen to take from the younger children. It was the power that came from being older, a power Dougan was lavish in using. Often Dougan would lie to the sixth graders about his age, explaining that he had been held back a grade and should be amongst them as their peer, but the sixth graders knew better.
Dougan just wanted to be at the top, in a tyrannical sort of way.
Dougan reached out and grabbed the chocolate milk.
“This is mine.” He said with a fierce snarl, in the same manner of speech as the wolf man who appeared sometimes on the weekly horror anthology show that ran on television, of which Dougan was a big fan of.
All the other kids at the table froze abruptly and watched Dougan take Arthur’s milk, he had an evil grin spread across his face. Arthur stood up and turned to face Dougan.
“Give that back Dougan.” said Arthur with calm defiance.
Dougan was slightly stunned, he did not expect a fourth grader to stand up against a fifth grader so confidently. He looked into Arthur’s eyes and did not see the quivering fear that he so often fed off of from the others, but a fiery sort of confidence. It was disarming. Dougan realized that the kids at the 5th grade table were watching him, his image was at stake here. He could not surrender to a fourth grader.
Arthur was no ordinary fourth grader however, he was the youngest of six brothers. Six brothers who would take their turns pushing him around and oppressing him the way older brothers are like to do. He was used to getting pushed around, and thanks to his older brothers he often times pushed back.
“Or else what huh? Tough guy? What’cha gunna do? Huh?” said Dougan, his heart began beating rapidly at the sudden thought of a fight. This sudden disruption in the cafeteria slowly caught the attention of the other students, who were hoping for a fight to occur.
“Just give it back Dougan.” Again in the same calm tone that seemed ready to burst forth with energy. Their noses were inches apart.
“No” said Dougan, and he turned away from Arthur, hoping to end it quickly before things turned raw.
Arthurs hands shot out and grabbed hold of the milk carton. Dougan struggled to hold on. The two of them struggled back and forth, trying to claim the carton for their own, but no one was letting up on their grip. Finally the pressure from both their hands was too much to endure for the fragile construction of the milk carton, and it exploded. Chocolate milk covered Dougan and Arthur. They both looked stupidly at each other, covered in a thin sheen of brown fluid that was terribly cold. The cafeteria burst out in laughter, but Dougan and Arthur were not aware of the raucous behavior of their own peers, they came out of their stupid bewilderment and regarded one another with cold vehemence. Before either of them could swing a fist, as each was wanting to do, the principal walked in between the both of them and took each by the arm. They soon found themselves in the principal’s office, which always smelled of coffee and sweet nutmeg.
That was the beginning. Soon thereafter tensions continued to rise between the two gangs of children. Reports were being made of deliberate attempts to trip the 4th graders by the 5th graders, while the 4th graders attempted to fight back with profane gestures which had no affect on the 5th graders, who used the same foul expressions amongst themselves. Some of the younger classes worried that a giant brawl would occur, damaging the political climate of the playground. Some sought audience with the 6th graders, to provoke them into action. The 6th graders response was to not to worry, they would intervene if things got seriously out of hand. Dougan’s gang was too strong but too few, while Arthur’s gang was too weak while being many. They had no level playing field to settle the score.
That was until it snowed.
It was high noon already, but you wouldn't have been able to tell since the cloud cover was so thick. The street was deeply grooved by passing cars, and showed little damage as an effect of the boys. Just a lone cap lay moist and neglected out in the middle of the street. No one dared to make a run for that cap, not yet at least.
From atop a tree, in a well constructed tree fort, sat several fourth graders who waited eagerly around Arthur. Their faces were rosy red and they breathed out fumes of visible moisture. Arthur was dressed in green camouflage, fashioned after a soldier, one eye closed and the other hidden behind the view finder of a telescope brought over by Andrew Tinselton, who thought that it would be good to use for spying. The boys waited quietly.
Arthur watched as Dougan and his gang made repairs to their snow fort across the street and began expanding it into the neighbor’s yard. One of Dougan’s cronies, a Maxwell Stone, was very interested in learning about the Egyptians. It was said he used all the building blocks in the 1st grade to construct a tower so high that it almost touched the sky. We believed it then, but now it sounded absurd. Regardless of his past achievements, Arthur could not deny that Max was good at building snow forts. He had mirrored the construction techniques with those he found in his book on Egyptian pharaohs, using recycling bins to pack snow into blocks and use them to construct thick walls that were nearly impenetrable by all efforts on the part of the fourth grader.
They also had a giant sling shot, an elastic band with a pouch at the center that needed three people to operate. Where they got it, Arthur had no idea, but he sure wished he had one himself. Their initial charge proved disastrous even before making it to the street. Dougan had a three person team deployed to catapult snow balls deep into Arthur’s territory. The snow balls were launched with such velocity as to cause pain and sometimes bruising. Arthur’s forces were disbanded and forced into momentary chaos before retreating to the tree house.
Many suggestions were made as to how to over come Dougans superior fire power. The Patel twins brought forth the idea that they fill up super soakers with water and spray them in the hope of freezing them into ice statues. This suggestion was met with shared horror and Arthur decided that it was best to have the Patel’s out of the strategic planning. They were down in the brush rebuilding the snow ball supply, arguing amongst themselves about who would win in a fight, an Alien or a Robot.
Arthur broke away from the telescope and began to pace, tapping his nose with his right pointer finger while doing so. Jeffrey Deal, who was known to have a weak constitution and would break out in a fit of tears at the slightest of insults got up and walked cautiously over to peer into the telescope. He let out a shrill squeak and fell back from the telescope. The others started for their shaken comrade but Arthur got to him first.
“What’s wrong Jeff?” asked Arthur with his arm wrapped about his shoulder.
“He...he... mooned me.” He said in almost a whisper. His eyes were welling with tears. Friendly fellow, Jeff Deal, but can be quite a sissy sometimes.
“That dirty mongrel.” said a boy amongst their group, pounding a fist into an open palm. “We can’t let him get away with.... with this craziness!”
“Its ok... we’ll figure out a way... grab you turtle bag Jeff and have a juice box.”
Arthur could not help but stare at Jeff’s neat looking turtle back pack. An idea began to form in his head. It was soft and fuzzy like a pixilated cloud, but slowly condensed and began to take form.
Now he had a plan.
Arthur turned around, a smile on his face as he regarded the others.
"I think I got it.." he said carefully, his words filled with dimmed excitement.
This renewed the faith of the others.
"Well... what's the plan?" said one boy whose voice was muffled by his many layers of clothing.
“They only have one sling shot...” Arthur directed everyone’s attention to the poorly drawn map of the neighborhood and the opposing forts. A depiction of Dougan was also drawn in, with a bestial appearance and a ferocious zig-zagging line for a mouth.
They spoke in a fervent chatter and as Arthur’s plan began to unfold, the other children’s confidence grew and blossomed. When they would be in the 6th grade this battle would be reminisced by the veterans and it would be generally agreed upon by a large majority that it was all thanks to Arthur’s brilliance that they were able to nullify Dougan’s superior fire power. The Patel’s would still bring up the notion that their super soaker attack would have been an easier road to victory, but then again the Patel’s were known to burn ants with a magnifying glass.
It would be about ten minutes before Arthur’s plan would be put into motion.
Dougan watched from behind the wall of his fort. No action from the front of the enemy. The chaos of the earlier attack could only be told through the trampled mess of snow on the opposite lawn, across the street. He was quite impressed with the affect of the sling shot. Not only did it hurt a few of Arthur’s crew, it also broke them apart like house of cards. It was a fearsome thing to behold. He was glad his brother let him use it.
His cronies were diligently packing snow into bins and carrying them in teams of four to stack on top of the others that they had planted. Dougan was instilled with a sense of power, and decided to extend the walls of the fort for the sake of added grandeur.
One of his cronies decided to take a break from making snowballs and walked over beside Dougan to peer over the wall along with him.
“What a bunch of pussies!” said the Crony to Dougan.
Dougan just nodded his head in agreement, but he was still unsure of what to make of Arthur. He stood defiantly to him in front of the entire class of Cooper Elementary, Dougan doubted he would give up so easily.
“So what are you gonna make him do?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” asked Dougan.
“Well aren’t you gunna punish him! I mean that Arthur needs to know whose boss, right?”
“Yea.... yea your right... I think I’ll have him eat a worm in front of the rest of the fourth graders.”
The crony laughed with sadistic satisfaction. Dougan joined in, entertained by the thought of having that stupid faced Arthur eating a worm and the fact that his idea was met with shared enthusiasm.
Suddenly a group of children appeared from the left of the house from across the street, charging across the lawn, hindered slightly by areas of deep snow.
“Shit!” cried out Dougan, “battle stations! Battle stations!”.
Every one dropped what they were doing and scrambled for cover. The three person team rushed out through an opening in the wall of the fort and began loading the sling shot. The two boys leaned out, holding tightly to the ends while the third stepped back, stretching out the elastic band for maximum damage.
The kids across the street stopped, pulled out umbrellas and unfurled them, forming a great big wall of nylon material. The boys in the middle of this circle pulled out their own umbrellas and formed a tight canopy for what appeared to be a massive tent made of
“Fire!” yelled Dougan in a panic.
They launched the densely packed snowball from the fold of the sling shot, setting out like an imaginary bullet from a videogame, and hit an umbrella with a thud, breaking apart and falling to the earth amongst the rest of the snow.
Shit, Thought Dougan. The three person team looked at up towards him, dumbstruck and unsure of what to do next. The moving tent of umbrellas began slowly making its way across the street at this point.
“Start firing damnit!” yelled Dougan, picking up a snowball himself, cocking his arm back as far as it could go and launching it high up in the air.
So that’s what they did. Dougan and his gang picked up as many of their pre-constructed snow balls and began launching them at the enemy. But they were tightly packed and were able to combine the umbrellas like a giant armored turtle shell.
When they landed on the lawn of which was considered Dougan’s territory, they just stayed within the protection of their umbrellas. Dougan yelled and yelled and they continued to pelt snowballs with no effect at all, just that their own supply dwindled.
And then they ran out of good snowballs.
At this point the top of this moving structure of umbrellas opened up, from which came a torrent of snow balls directed towards the 5th graders. Dougan’s walls could offer no protection at this point, they just flew right on over. Down came a hail of white fury. The 5th graders were bludgeoned and made wet by the melting of snow they were now blanketed with.
Many began to flee.
“Come back you cowards!” Yelled Dougan, rivers of ice and water ran down his hair from a recent snowball impact. He turned to face the fourth graders but froze when he saw them lined up without the umbrellas, arms cocked, and Arthur at the lead.
“Do you give up Dougan?” He said with a smirk.
No one was left to help him, they had all fled. In that instant Dougan turned to flee but not before a final volley of snowballs found their mark on or around him.
Realizing they had defeated the 5th graders, Arthur and his gang became wild with delight and began tearing down the fort Maxwell had constructed. They used the snow to build snow men, and enjoyed the remainder of this December day uninterrupted.