‘I did not think a carrot could fly that far,’ I contemplated while sitting in lunch detention.  I knew that I was in trouble; however, I did not have one regret about what had happened earlier that week.

At my school there are countless activities that my friends and I perform that no others think to do.  Most of these events end up getting our table or maybe even our peers into trouble.  One of these events would have to be when we launched baby carrot sticks around our lunch table for a fun time—until a catastrophic mistake.  My sophomore year, my lunch table would shoot crisp carrots at each other with enough force to generate a sonic boom.  The principal caught us shooting carrots along the table one day.  He yelled, “Stop throwing carrots across the table.  The janitors have a hard enough job cleaning up your mess as it is.”  Our table decided not to listen to him because we picked up a majority of the carrots.  One day we gathered a few raw carrots and launched them simultaneously.  My friends were shooting the carrots back and forth by bringing their fleshy part of their fists down on the end of the carrot causing the carrot to shoot out from under their fists and occasionally the carrot would explode.  This day everyone at the table was hitting each other and possibly leaving ruby red welts with baby carrots.

Eventually, I thought of the bright idea to go to the end of the table, while I grabbed one hefty damp carrot with a big bronze bruise.  I aspired for this to be the finest moment of the year.  Everyone at my table stared at me with anticipation wondering if I would actually hit the carrot.  The entire long table was full except for the empty spot where I sat.  As I struck my padlocked fist down on the carrot, the entire table watched in awe at the take off.  The carrot flew three feet into the air fast enough to beat a Lamborghini in a race.  Time slowed as I watched the carrot’s flight path.  As the orange pellet flew by in slow motion, I realized where it might land.  I quickly squatted down, hoping that no one noticed I discharged the carrot.  Even though the carrot advanced so fast that anyone could barely follow it, I witnessed it space shuttling in slow motion.  Everyone at the lunch table looked down the runway as it went by in a perfect spiral beyond my peers.  The carrot maneuvered through and around everyone towards its ultimate destination, the pellet accelerated across the cafeteria, and flew over the heads of the next table.  They sat oblivious to the thick carrot darting right beyond them.  At this point everyone at my table understood where the carrot was heading.  Most people already began snickering, and everyone looked away so as not to draw attention.  I kept looking, scared at the thought of getting in trouble for an improper landing.  It is true:  carrots are usually harmless, but in this case the carrot was a heat-seeking missile.  I watched as the missile exploded on contact, three full-length, twelve-foot tables away.  There was sweat dripping from my forehead, frightened for my semi-clean record.  The target was hit; the casualty stood up and sprinted to our table, from the other side of the cafeteria in record time.  The target, my principal, stood before us with his now cherry red forehead.

His face immediately turned even redder than before, with a hint of carrot orange, and he sternly demanded, “Who threw that carrot at me?”  I did not make eye contact with him.  I noticed that all of my friends were not going to divulge.  However, I knew that he would blame one of my friends when I knew I shot the carrot.  I confessed, “I launched the carrot, sir.”  I knew I would have to repent for my sins.  He did not show any anger; he only showed disappointment since I have been innocent like an angel, other than a few other incidences that I did not get into trouble for.  He commanded, “Go to my office.”  I obeyed his command and trudged with my head down, shuffling my feet all the way to his office.  Once I walked inside the office and sat down, the secretary asked, “Why are you here?” I gave her a straightforward explanation, as I knew that the principal would tell her everything later.  Once the principal sat down in front of me, he asked, “Why did you throw a carrot at me?”  I told him the entire story.  Also I explained that I did not “throw” a carrot but rather I “hit” the carrot’s slippery end with the meaty part of my hand, and it just launched.

For my punishment he told me not to shoot any more carrots and I received lunch detention for the entire week.  I believe that I deserved the punishment for what had happened.  I learned my lesson, and I have not launched a carrot since that day.  Who knew a small orange vegetable could cause such carnage.