This Means War!

You wash your hands. You reach for the kitchen towel. That is, until your younger brother walks in the room. Then you get different ideas. You sneak on tiptoe across the kitchen, cradling your dripping fingers in your wet palms. Just a few more steps... just a few more...

There! You've done it! You leave the excess water dripping from your brother's face as you make a hasty retreat back to the kitchen sink to reload. But he's closer to the bathroom than you are to the sink. He gets you back as you're turning on the water. Unfortunately for him, you have a stream of cold water right in front of you; bad timing on his part. You fill your cupped hands to the brim with water and send it sailing directly onto the front of his shirt. Then you run, even though that means he's got the sink at his disposal. Maybe if you run fast enough you'll make it to the bathroom in time--

No such luck. This water bomb (in the form of a sopping kitchen towel) hits your rear end. Not cool. You turn to retaliate with dry hands, even though you're not sure what you're going to do. Whoops. He gets you in the face with a shower from his fingers. You pick up the wet towel and follow his retreating back onto the back porch. He's already flown down the stairs onto the lawn, but you've been on a softball team. You take careful aim and hit him in the back of the head. He turns around, fire in his eyes. You turn and run, locking the door behind you, but not before you hear his shout: "This means war!"

You can't let him have the last word. You lock the front door also on your way to lock the downstairs door. He's stuck outside. You get a bucket, fill it with icy water and take it out on the back porch. He's still below you, banging on the downstairs door and not looking at you. So, you upturn the bucket on his head. He wipes dripping hair from his eyes and looks up at you. "War? Bring it on!" you shout before going inside and locking again.