Your hiding in the bushes.
Your waiting.
Waiting for this moment.
Your knees are weak.
Your arms are heavy.
Their ain't no vomit on your sweaty though.
Because your mother didn't make you no spaghetti.
After nearly half an hour of waiting. you finally see her, standing there. In the open field, nearly 20 metres in front of you. Your hand is twitching in anticipation.
She's in her cute BC freedom tankery uniform. Holding a plate of Victoria sponge cake. She's all alone, her gaurd is down and Her forehead is glistening in the hot summers day.
This is your chance. It's now or never
You burst your way out the bushes. Running at flank speed. She sees you. And is in a state of complete shock. She drops her cake. Her eyes widen as she sees you charge towards her.
Nearly there.
The gap is now getting smaller and smaller.
This is it.
You raise your hand and aim for your target.
SLAP
You slap her forehead with the force of a thousand men.
It can be heard for miles.
Within 200 meters of the slap, glass shatters.
Within 300 meters everyone is deafened.
Within 400 meters wood splinters.
It was the slap of the century.
Her forehead ripe for slapping.
Nearly 30 seconds after the slap you regain your breath from the charge. She's looking at you. And your looking at her. Her eyes glistening with tears. And her forehead redder than a baby tomato.
"That's what you get for having a fukin huge head" you say with great pride to her.
If your mama could see you right now she would be so proud.