Kasey and his friend’s snowballs made satisfying thuds on the cars the enemy hunkered down behind. Eventually they had to sweep their arms to gather enough packable snow.
Hard chunks imploded next to them. The enemy was using fender boogers.
Casey motioned to his soldiers. “Watch out for chunks.”
When the ammo was gone, Kasey peeked out. An overweight boy was walking the middle of the street, waving two middle fingers. “I have a slow metabolism, jerks.”