It all began around the campfire in the summertime. James was a smartass and I hit him in the face with a marshmallow. His reaction was so satisfying that over the course of the year I have made an effort to hit him unexpectedly as often as possible with these delightfully harmless edible bullets. But in order to put a satisfactory end to this chapter, I needed it to be a good one, and thus, the Marshmallow Cannon was comissioned from amateur mad scientist, Richard Bryson, and the payload was delivered on Christmas Day.
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