I once got in a whipped cream fight with Damien while we were in Boy Scouts, at a pancake breakfast in the basement of the First Presbyterian Church. It destroyed my faith in God. I don't remember whether I put gum in his hair, or if it was the other way around, but I have the distinct feeling that he was the overall winner. The moral of the story- if you're choosing teams for a whipped cream fight, pick him before you pick me.
