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sniffnoyWell, tomorrow is paintball. How many people are we going? How many Tuftsians will stand against the forces of Henderson, Thompson, and Shorey?
4. Just 4. Not a joke. The price went down to $20, there was plenty of space, but no more first-years signed up, no more second-years signed up, no more associates or alumni signed up. No Sean, no Armoskus or Bowers, no Sayer, no Frank, no Chris, no Pavel or Doug, nobody. Instead even Mark and Sadie have dropped out.
Instead we have me, Ginny, Girl Alex, and, I think, Blake.
I'm awful. You're not going to see anything great from me, just stay covered, poke your head out and shoot when they're not shooting you, advance once you've killed them. Always useful, but in a team of 4, that's not the sort of thing that wins games. I'm not even a good shot. Ginny I remember is good, or at least she's a good shot, but not exactly good enough to win games by herself, you know? Girl Alex, to my knowledge, hasn't played before. I don't know if Blake has either. If we're going to not get totally wiped out with only 4 people, we'd need people like Armoskus and Bowers.
So basically, we're walking into a massacre.
Completely unrelatedly...
So I have a thing of Bagel Bites, I'm about to microwave it. I open the microwave, it looks perfectly normal, I set it down on the tray, and it displaces something. I made a, uh, distressed noise, which attracted some attention. "What's wrong?" "The microwave is... uh... I don't know how to put this... the microwave is wet."
I got to wiping it up, but of course that didn't get rid of it. I don't know what it was but it had a distinctly oily feel. I went to wash my hands, Kat suggested covering it in dish soap, and Agnes said she had some cleanwipes (?) she could use.
Of course, I still wanted my food, and I didn't want to wait for the microwave to be cleaned. So in the meantime I started searching for some sort of barrier I could put between the tray and the box. Yes, the box should be barrier enough, but still... I could have just used paper towels, but I wanted a bit more certainty and went asking around for disposable plates.
Eventually I came back to the lounge to find the microwave open, the tray gone, and inside oh my it's a whole pool of the stuff. Like some sort of disgusting, oily soup. It had bits of something orange in it, too, but I didn't get a very good look because I definitely didn't want too. The sight was literally nauseating.
I come back some time later to find the pool of disgustingness gone and the tray replaced. John Wood is there and tells me he cleaned it - he wiped the entire thing up. Sam and Chris walk into the room with some Bagel Bites of their own, and I warn them not to use the microwave, it's not clean. John insists he cleaned it. They put them in the toaster oven anyway, leading to an argument (I forget who was on what side) about whether Bagel Bites come out better in the microwave or the toaster oven. I eventually point out that the microwave really hasn't been cleaned, just wiped up. John responds by rinsing the tray.
Some time later I'm looking in my closet for a cup and find that, wait, *I* have disposable plates and had forgotten about it! I use this in combination with a paper towel, and finally I eat.
-Harry
4. Just 4. Not a joke. The price went down to $20, there was plenty of space, but no more first-years signed up, no more second-years signed up, no more associates or alumni signed up. No Sean, no Armoskus or Bowers, no Sayer, no Frank, no Chris, no Pavel or Doug, nobody. Instead even Mark and Sadie have dropped out.
Instead we have me, Ginny, Girl Alex, and, I think, Blake.
I'm awful. You're not going to see anything great from me, just stay covered, poke your head out and shoot when they're not shooting you, advance once you've killed them. Always useful, but in a team of 4, that's not the sort of thing that wins games. I'm not even a good shot. Ginny I remember is good, or at least she's a good shot, but not exactly good enough to win games by herself, you know? Girl Alex, to my knowledge, hasn't played before. I don't know if Blake has either. If we're going to not get totally wiped out with only 4 people, we'd need people like Armoskus and Bowers.
So basically, we're walking into a massacre.
Completely unrelatedly...
So I have a thing of Bagel Bites, I'm about to microwave it. I open the microwave, it looks perfectly normal, I set it down on the tray, and it displaces something. I made a, uh, distressed noise, which attracted some attention. "What's wrong?" "The microwave is... uh... I don't know how to put this... the microwave is wet."
I got to wiping it up, but of course that didn't get rid of it. I don't know what it was but it had a distinctly oily feel. I went to wash my hands, Kat suggested covering it in dish soap, and Agnes said she had some cleanwipes (?) she could use.
Of course, I still wanted my food, and I didn't want to wait for the microwave to be cleaned. So in the meantime I started searching for some sort of barrier I could put between the tray and the box. Yes, the box should be barrier enough, but still... I could have just used paper towels, but I wanted a bit more certainty and went asking around for disposable plates.
Eventually I came back to the lounge to find the microwave open, the tray gone, and inside oh my it's a whole pool of the stuff. Like some sort of disgusting, oily soup. It had bits of something orange in it, too, but I didn't get a very good look because I definitely didn't want too. The sight was literally nauseating.
I come back some time later to find the pool of disgustingness gone and the tray replaced. John Wood is there and tells me he cleaned it - he wiped the entire thing up. Sam and Chris walk into the room with some Bagel Bites of their own, and I warn them not to use the microwave, it's not clean. John insists he cleaned it. They put them in the toaster oven anyway, leading to an argument (I forget who was on what side) about whether Bagel Bites come out better in the microwave or the toaster oven. I eventually point out that the microwave really hasn't been cleaned, just wiped up. John responds by rinsing the tray.
Some time later I'm looking in my closet for a cup and find that, wait, *I* have disposable plates and had forgotten about it! I use this in combination with a paper towel, and finally I eat.
-Harry
