i remember me and my brother filling the bottles with **** after being inspired by a boy in a delightful little movie called the boy who could fly. and my sister *****ing and feeling left out, so we had to take turns filling her gun.
and then we would start shooting each other. if we weren't ****ing witless, dirt urchin children, we would have formed an alliance and preyed on somebody else.
and i don't remember having showers or baths until i was like 12. so i must have reeked off stale **** until then. it's all a blur.