Dunk on this Kid

“You’re on, Arthur,” you say, sweeping up the cups under your hand.

He gives you his version of a cocky grin, which just looks like a watery smile to you, and then he turns to Emma.

“So… how about we bring some beer into the equation this time? Make it fun, come on!”

“It’s already fun watching you make a fool of yourself,” Emma laughs. “Besides, each of those three reasons that I mentioned earlier? They still stand. I’ve lived in this hall for too many damn years to get busted now.”

“Seriously? You’re such a spoilsport,” he groans.

“Dude, you’re the one who wanted to run it back,” you say. “You going to play or you just going to bitch all day?”

“I’m not bitching,” Arthur bitches, and you laugh, tossing the ping pong ball at his face.

“Loser goes first,” you say.

The ball smacks Arthur in the face and he takes a step back, rubbing his forehead.

“That was uncalled for,” he says.

“That was pure comedy,” Emma laughs. “Just like yo momma!”

OOOOHHHHH the guys watching from all across the hall lounge call out, some primal instinct syncing all of them up into one loud cry.

Arthur grits his teeth and tosses the ball. But something’s off. Arthur, once a shark at this game, going toe to toe with you shot for shot, wildly misses this one. His ball flies far left field, landing down by the couches. One of the guys over there has to bend under the couch to get it, and he tosses the ball back to you.

“Wow, Emma really hit a nerve there,” you say, palming the ball. “Yo momma jokes really hit a sore spot, eh?”

You toss it at his side of the table and land it clean into a cup. Splash.

“No they don’t!” Arthur protests, much too defensively. He fishes the ball out of the cup and starts drinking from it.

“Yeah? Well, yo momma’s so fat, her car’s got stretch marks,” you say.

OOOOHHHHH the guys all across the hall lounge call out.

Arthur spit-takes, spraying water all over the table, his face beet red.

“See, that’s why I didn’t serve you any alc,” Emma laughs.

He glares at you, then Emma, and then makes another wild throw. His ball completely misses the mark, sailing off into the distance. Once again, one of the guys by the couch returns the ball to you.

“Yo momma’s so fat, she… she’s a file system extension!” Arthur says.

He looks real smug, but nobody’s laughing. You take careful aim at his cup, completely unrattled by his comment. You toss the ball and it drops straight into his cup.

“That’s how it’s done,” you smile. “And Arthur, you want a good burn? Try this for size. Yo momma’s so fat, I’m genuinely concerned for her health and well-being.”

OOOOHHHHH the guys all across the hall lounge call out.

“Supa hot fire,” someone mutters

“Fuck you,” Arthur says, sputtering half the contents of his cup back into it. Something gets caught in his throat and he coughs, and he ends up dumping the water down the sink in the kitchenette.

“Dude can’t even handle his water and he’s here asking for beer,” Emma laughs.

“No wonder the drinking age is 21,” one of the upperclassmen watching snorts.

When Arthur returns to the table, he’s out of it. His next throw bounces off the edge of the table and skitters off to the side. Arthur throws up his hands.

“Shit game,” he moans. “Why even bother?”

With that, he stomps off. You stare at Emma. She stares back at you, struggling to hold back her laughter.

“Some guys,” she says, and then she bursts out laughing. You join her, alongside the rest of the hall.

Emma +15
Arthur -20