Once there was a kid named Sam. He was the neighborhood bully, and nobody

liked him much. One morning after the big snow, George was walking by and noticed

that Sam had already built a snow fort. He seemed to be doing something secretive

behind the walls.


    “You’re making ice balls, aren’t you?” asked George.



“No, I’m not!” Sam replied, defensively.



“Yes, you are! My dad warned you not to make ice balls. They’re not fair and

could hurt a lot of people!”



“So what’re ya gonna do about it, wimp?” Sam taunted.



Furiously, George stomped back home. He told his friends about Sam, and said he

wanted to attack Sam’s fort right away.



“Tell you what,” they said. “We’ll convince Sam to let us inspect the fort, and if

we don’t find any ice balls, you won’t have to attack him.” George reluctantly agreed.



An hour later, his friends returned with a report. “Well, all we found were some

slush balls, but we made Sam destroy them immediately. We didn’t find any ice balls.”



That wasn’t good enough for George. “I know he’s hiding ice balls somewhere!

I want to attack him anyway!”



But his friends backed off. “I don’t want to want any parts of this!” said Jacques.

“I think he’s cooperating – there’s no need to attack,” said Hans.

“No way will I be involved!” declared Yuri.

Only Tony, George’s best friend from across the street, agreed to join him in his plan.



Meanwhile, Jon, George’s neighbor on the east side, yelled over his fence, “Hey,

George! I’ve made a rock ball! And I’m gonna throw it at ya when you least expect it!”

But George was more concerned with taking care of Sam.



Shortly after lunch, George and Tony, arms full of snowballs, stormed the walls

of Sam’s fort. They did find one or two ice balls. “I was just trying to see if I could

make ‘em! I wasn’t gonna use ‘em!” Sam pleaded. George and Tony still pummeled

him into submission.



But it was far from over. Soon some friends of Sam’s from outside the

neighborhood came, hurling ice balls left and right. Jon carried out his threat, launching

a rock ball that hit George squarely in the eye. Then Jon hurled another rock ball, and

another.



Soon the air was filled with ice balls, snowballs, slush balls, rock balls, and even

real rocks and stones, flying every which way. By the end of the day, not a kid in the

neighborhood was left standing.

03/09/2003

Posted on 03/09/2003
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt