I told G. that if he didn't stop hitting me on the head with his projectiles, candy or not, I would come to the other side and smash his computer.

With his face.



He stopped.

I've started to become used to being pelted with candy by the boys from the other side of my cubicle.

Today, a balled-up napkin clocked me on head.

"Call me ♥.  925.324.xxxx"

Score.

Now I can order to-go when they walk to McDonald's.