The pizza soared through the air like a hail Mary. As he saw its arc transcend from food to legend, the bugcatcher's smile slowly turned to a manic grin.

The splatter utterly silenced the cafeteria, the many youths around staring at the cheesy slice dubiously as it slowly slid down to the floor.

And then the Empress' voice cut through the room, jolting everyone present.

"Looks like yer good girl streak ends today." He muttered lowly to her, awe in his voice.

A once in a lifetime opportunity had presented itself before them. So he breathed in deep.

"TREACHERY! DECEPTION!" Screamed Doug at the top of his longs as his grip slid all the way to the edge of his tray, before he swung it across the air wide, sending his pizza slice and open carton of milk flying across the cafeteria.

Smacking one Bradly Ferguson straight across the face, milk dripping down his locks of hair.

Dead silence. For all of a second.

"SSSSSULLIVAAAN!" Screamed Bradley as he sprang up from his seat and sprinted around the table, rage in his eyes.

And then panicked surprise, when his foot slipped atop Doug's discarded tray. His body fell back, his arms pinwheeling for anything to grab on- slapping another tray near the edge of another table in the process and flipping it, sending its contents flying to the kids from across, covering them in cheese, grease and milk.

From the other side of the cafeteria, it finally came. Straight from one of the class clown's mouths, the magic words rang, music to Doug's ears.

"FOOOOOOD FIGHT!"

"Goddamn it." Groaned the Cafeteria Lady as the pizza began to fly across the air, planting her face solidly on the metal counter. She was beyond giving a fuck.

"Mufuhuhahaha!" Laughed the youth as he ducked under a slice of pizza, grinning at Chryssa. "Not bad, Empress! Looks like you've uncovered a coup brewin' right under my nose! We might work together too well!"

He reached up to catch a pizza flying towards them, baseball throwing it at another youth. As it nailed him across the nose, the youth rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, pomodoro sauce covering his cheeks.

"M'seat of power's up fo' grabs now, though... can't be helped! Quick, the Chocolate Milk is there! It's our only hope!"

By there, he probably meant the ice cream display-like freezer near the salad bar, were, indeed, several dozen cartons colored brown and white could be found.

A deadly weapon, given how white shirts were the mandatory part of the school's uniform.

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TAG: chryssa glasgow