A dish best served cold

I tore an icicle from the side of the Sizzler building tonight. It was rather large. Upon holding the icicle I thought "wow, this would make a great spear." So I threw caution to wind and yelled out to my father, who was quite a distance away, to watch out. I hurled the icicle into the air and it flopped down barely halfway between myself and my father. Ice is hard to throw.

The great thing about holding the icicle though was revenge. Which I exacted onto my 9 year old nephew by placing my bare frigidly cold hand under his shirt and onto his warm bare back. Hahahahahahaha! Revenge is sweet.
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