DOUBLE BONUS POINTS! DOUBLE BONUS POINTS! Snoozy Derkins peeked around the side of the house as I was kicking the ball and I beaned her one (on accident, of course! On purpose would get me in trouble!). And the ball landed mere inches from the goal–an easy shot… .
Mr. Bun grows to giant proportions and proceeds to chase you back around the house. Meanwhile I casually stroll over to the ball and dink it into the net. That puts me in the lead, with a score of eleventybazillion.
There’s no “dinking” in Calvinball, loser. You forfeit the ball to me and I, on Pegasus, fly off toward the goal. So much for your lousy eleventybazillion, dude.
Out comes my trusty Stinger missile-your Pegasus enters a death spiral, and I catch the dropped ball (singed as it might be).
Recalling my winning strategy from seven years ago, and using my brilliant scientific mind and uncanny inventing prowess, I quickly devise and assemble a Multicolor Floating Tube Doper Superduper AcceptNoSubstitutes Disintegrator (Patent Pending), zap you with it, and seize the ball (or is it the flag?) before the contented and approving eyes of the REAL Miss Wormwood, score, and win!
And the crowd goes wild!!!
Since the crowd consists of eleventy zillion (but microscopic) aliens from the planet Zybarg, whose social mores mean they abhor any contest where there is a winner, they all decide to dine on your heretical carcass. As you slowly dissolve from the grey goo, I snatch the ball from your disintegrating hands and go strolling towards the secretly hidden in in the 13th dimension goal…
I invoke the obscure but powerful Christmas Miracle in Vermont Exemption, take the ball back with my quickly-reforming hands and win yet again. Nyaa nyaa!