Jam Donut

• Mack Davis, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

I look around the base. It’s fully loaded with cream pies, rotten fruit and a secret weapon – explosive jam donuts.
“You ready, Mack?”
My friend Cohen is standing casually by the safe. He’s wearing a tattered old jacket and a black beanie. We’re ready for battle. We grab two cream pies each and barge out the door like policemen in a cop chase.
I am immediately bombarded by hundreds of pies, coming down like rain. We dodge them best we can, ducking and diving, but there’s too many. I stop dodging and charge through the creamy storm.
Cream starts oozing down my face like I’ve split my head open, and Cohen’s jacket is white now, along with his sneakers.
The throwing eases off a bit now, then stops completely. We throw what we’ve got and run for more. Suddenly, they retaliate – and we run! Compared to now, that last one was a light rain.
We dive behind a wall and talk strategy.
“What do we do now?” Asks Cohen.
“Jam donut” I suggest.
“I agree. There’s too many of them.”
We run back to base, grab some donuts, eat some donuts, debate on how many donuts we should eat, grab Levi and Lincoln, and charge out again.
They don’t throw, so we do.
The jam donuts fly through the air like wobbly Frisbees. The donuts hit some people and explode like a can of coke that’s been shaken. With Mentos dropped in. It showers bright red sticky jam over everyone in range.
The jam donuts reign supreme once more!