Round Two:

Time for round two, I thought, or is it rounds two, three, four and five all rolled into one. And then the first pies started flying.

We both threw pies as fast as we could. In less than a minute, Vonni and I had emptied that entire table of all those pies. I used the rest of those chocolate ones on Ivanna adding to the layer of messy brown gunk over her face and head. I even plopped one on her breasts, though it was purely accidental. Vonni, loving the custard pies, nailed me pretty good with the yellowish goo. Then there were the rest of the pies. None were spared, including those small fruit tarts. When it was over, we were completely covered with messy goo, of all colors, all the way down to our knees.

Stopping to take a breather, we rested, standing there, leaning against each other. After appraising Vonni for a brief instance, I said, "Well I think I won that round, but not by much."

Looking at me, with mirth in her eyes, Ivanna said, "In a pig's ass. I won!"

"The hell you say," I retorted, "anyone can see you are much messier than I am."

"Am not," the fiery spitfire came back as she stuck out her tongue, "you are so much muckier than me."

I laughed at that. "Muckier, muckier you say, is that even a word," I spit out between chuckles.

But while we were talking, I had been elusively, moving toward that second table.

Hmm . . . I don't think she has caught on.

With a quick step, I had my hands on that second bowl of chocolate pudding. Turning I saw that Ivanna was just now realizing her peril.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she all but screamed as Ivanna saw that bowl descending and all of that chocolate muck flowing toward her face.

This time, the pudding hit like a tidal wave.

Hmm . . . they must have stirred this pudding. It pours like a river flowing down from a mountain lake.

Another round of gooey slop streamed down onto Vonni's head and face. It's hard to believe she could have gotten any messier, but I do believe this bowl did the trick. And I was wrong with my first estimations. I think there were at least four, if not five gallons of pudding in the bowl.

Ivanna just stood there, dumbfounded, and took the mess. There really wasn't anything she could have done, or anywhere she could go.

As she licked her lips, after the deluge finally ended, Ivanna, getting a good taste of that chocolate pudding, looked at me and petulantly said, "I hate you."

Laughingly I replied, "I bet you say that to all the boys."

Vonni tried to hold in a chuckle but instead a bunch of brown snot shot out from her nostrils.

Shit . . . why do I always fall for that crap. "Well, just keep it up buddy boy. We'll see who has the last laugh. I'm going to let you have . . . "

"Still think you're winning, Vonni?" I said with a deep chuckle.

"Ok," she said, as Ivanna slowly nodded her head while trying to wipe some of the gunge from her face, "I will cede that round to you."

"But" my muck-covered love said slowly, "this is a long way from being over."

Oh yeah, it is a long way from being over, buddy boy. A long way.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Vonni?" I said, pointing toward that table of delicious puddings. "Let's see, I count four, no five . . . five more bowls of pudding."

And then with a big wink, I added, "What are YOU going to let me have?"

"Oh my, aren't you being so generous, Roberto," the love of my life said in a mocking tone, "are you going to let little 'ole me pour some pudding over your head? Are you really going to be that nice to me?"

"You know, Vonni," I replied, "sarcasm really doesn't become you!" But I was smiling when I said it.

"Vanilla, you picked vanilla pudding. Is that your best?"

As she held that big bowl of pudding high in the air, Ivanna smiled so sweetly, "well if you hadn't used up BOTH of the bowls of chocolate pudding, I could have used one on you."

"Yeah, but you know I hate vanilla," I whined, "couldn't you have picked something else?"

"Well, alright, then," Vonni said with a big sigh. Then, before I could say anything else, that little winch grabbed my pants with her left hand and then started pouring all of that cold, cold vanilla pudding down my pants. I'll tell you this, it was a juggling act, almost comical watching her try to keep my pants open with one hand while holding that heavy bowl of pudding and directing the pour with the other. I would have been laughing my ass off if I hadn't been the recipient of that dastardly dead.

"Oh Shitttttt!" I cried out, "that is so fucking cold."

But Vonni just kept pouring and laughing and pouring some more. Finally, she gave up trying to keep my pants open and started smearing the rest of the pudding on the outside of my trousers. When it was all over, those slacks were no longer gray, as they carried a messy load of vanilla pudding all over them.

Those trousers were bulging from all of that pudding, but if it weren't for the extremely cold nature of that mess, my pants would have been bulging from something else, if you get my drift.

Before I could say anything, Ivanna said, with a sarcastic snear, "but I did pick something else, darling, I really did."

And she says I'm mean.