...So, I was the first one out of the door and I immediately run to the middle of the courtyard yelling, "Who wants to challenge the king to a snowball fight!!!"

.............

There is no answer. I'm not surprised since this freshman dorm is filled with some of the most apathetic human beings I've ever come across.

My two cohorts are laughing at my display of enthusiasm. Around here, a show of sincerity leaves one open to be mocked. It was the first sign of snow in this piss poor town and fuck it -- I was excited. I couldn't wait to peg snowballs right into the ears of these callous and cynical kids. The stinging sensation and momentary loss of hearing would make these kids feel alive again.

I looked up at the black and gray sky a bit disappointed, but just then I saw a single white speck slowly getting bigger. A gust of wind blew over the courtyard and then from every corner the white specks appeared. It started snowing harder than I'd ever seen before. A few minutes of this and the ground was covered. This obviously caught the attention of more than just the three of us. The huge metal door to the dorm swung open and a familiar face from our floor looked at me and yelled, "YOU! I challenge you to a snowba--"

He wasn't able to finish his sentence before one of my friends got him in the throat with the first hit of the season. IT WAS ON.

It started out everyman for himself but eventually turned into a 2 on 2 battle royale. We had no mercy for each other. We tackled, punched, stuffed snow down shirts and into eyes, kicked snow into faces and battled like our lives depended on it. Because of the ferocity of our own battle little did we notice that more and more people had come out into the night to toss snowballs at each other. Ducking behind a bush for a moment's rest I looked around and noted at least fifty people all going at it. Five minutes later, at least a hundred. Ten minutes later, at least two hundred. It wasn't long before you couldn't take three steps and push some stranger to the ground in a blind snowball fight rage. The snow had sparked some type of animalistic excitement in us. And me? I was like a fucking ninja. I may be a biased source, but despite being the target of something like, 2 snowballs per second, I don't think I was hit ten times that night. I was already a skinny and agile little bastard, but the snowball fight inspired a new speed and awareness. At one point some guy appeared behind me and launched some snow in my direction. Instinctively, I dove head first out of the way, rolled on the ground, gathered snow while getting back up on one knee, smashed it together while spinning back around then leaned back and sent my icy, white reply on Satan's wings. My target tried to dodge right but was too slow, the side of his head exposed, the snowball nailed him in the ear.

"YEAH!!! THAT'LL TEACH YA!!" I yelled.

"AAAAAAAAAAaaahh!!!" He screamed, as he went down and the immediate crowd burst into laughter.

A few more minutes of ninja quick reflexes had me dodging tackles from complete strangers and retaliating with extreme prejudice. I had another snowball ready to toss when out of the corner of my eye I noticed something peculiar.

Turning my head now I see eight white guys wearing nothing but boxers in a conga line, dancing their way down the pavement leading out to the rest of campus. Everyone stopped to laugh at these bird-chested individuals freezing their asses off for the sake of entertainment. As they were about to leave the courtyard, the last guy let go and did a little twirl.

Big mistake.

He slipped on the metal grate that covers the drain in the sidewalk and landed flat on his bare back. What began as laughter turned to momentary hysterical insanity. If you've never seen twenty people randomly collapse, twitching and screaming in a fit of laughter, you have not lived. The kid sat there for awhile and he seemed completely undisturbed as he just let the fall soak into his psyche I suppose. I was still laughing my ass off but, being only ten or so feet away from a helpless human being, my snowball rage returned. Still laughing, I ran up to the kid and railed the sh!t out of him with the snowball I had held the whole time.  Damn near half the people out there followed suit. If you've never seen roughly 150 people in groups of about 15 converge one after another, upon a single almost naked person and continuously rail him with no mercy, you have not lived. After the fifth group or so he decided that maybe he should try and run away. It didn't matter much though. The rest of the crowd that wasn't twitching on the ground chased him with snowballs in hand.

I met up with my two cohorts who were both tired, cold and bruised. Me? I was just tired. Why? Cuz I'm a fucking snowball-wielding ninja that's why. My god I was one magnificent bastard that night. We laughed and I teased them while they assessed their wounds. The crowd was beginning to calm down as well but we didn't get much rest. The familiar orange glow of campus police cars began to flood the area. Me and the cohorts booked it. We got back to our floor and went to sleep without being seen but it didn't matter. We would find out later that the Computer Science club, our archenemies, (how they became our archenemies is another story...) were the ones who called the cops on us and identified most of the people on my floor as taking part in and instigating the ruckus.

Bastards.

Campus police ate it up without even investigating. Even though there were at least 300 hundred people out there and most of them I did not recognize from being housed in the vicinity, my floor and my floor only was cited for the ruckus. It would be the first time (but not the last) that they would take our ENTIRE floor to student court to dole out punishment. And well... we couldn't really blame them. Even though it was only two months into our freshman year we had a reputation for errm... causing disturbances, if you will. Also, I was kind of the catalyst for the snowball fight and definitely the catalyst for the beat down of the mostly-naked conga line dancer. But, Goddammit, they wasted a good Sunday afternoon with that court nonsense. We didn't even get punished, just a stern talk and the evil eye.

It was all worth it though, my god I was a magnificent bastard. Phuck that, I still am. I don't inspire snowball fights like that here in Philly though. Man, around here these dudes be ready to pull a .38 on a ni66a for smacking 'em with a snowball... Sh!t for that matter the chicks too...

I have what seems to be an absolutely unlimited amount of stories from the time I spent in a certain college in New York State. My time there was totally unproductive and I could go on and on about the dumb shit that me and my floor mates used to get into. It is unbelievable the amount of delinquents they put together on a single floor. Sometimes I don't think it was random. It there is a God, he's a prankster/delinquent just like we were.

None of us are still there anymore, but our exploits are still talked about among the administration still there and the students that heard stories from other students.

Supposedly there is still talk of one upping our "Jet Grind Radio" inspired tag on the side of a cafeteria. (Done with shaving cream, of course. We weren't savages. :') ) That's a whole other story as well.

Interesting? If so, I might write up some more memories.

____________________________________________

Other thoughts:

A snowball on Satan's wings?

Dante describes Satan’s six wings as:

         “Plumeless and like the pinions of a bat

        Their fashion was; and as they flapped and whipped

        Three winds went rushing over the icy flat

        And froze up all Cocytus.”

        (Canto XXXIV, lines 49-52)

This passage from Dante's Inferno has been in my head, mutating and stewing for some time now and was the inspiration for the 'snowball on Satan's wings' sentence. After I wrote the sentence I was alarmed. Why would I liken something cold to Satan's wings? Isn't hell hot?

Well, something fast is often called a bat out of hell and with the Dante thing stewing around in my head the two fused, I suppose, in a moment of literary synergy.