The Last Piece of Pi[e]

Finish That Thought #2-11 (Judge's Comments)
Prompt: Little did we realize that the peace and quiet of our country afternoon picnic was soon to be rudely shattered.
Special Challenge: Include a pie fight in all its gory detail

From Lindraxa's cooking blog

Little did they realize that the peace and quiet of their country afternoon picnic was soon to be rudely shattered. We felt bad for them, really. They had their checkered blanket all laid out and large, whicker basket propped in the grass. Whole-wheat sandwiches sat on brilliantly white paper plates and an opened bag of red grapes spilled across the sheet. But unfortunately for them, there wasn’t a cloud in the never-ending blue sky.

We strolled past the parked car on the edge of the field where the family of merry picnickers gathered and snickered at the B.C. license plate. Yup, they were clueless. Chester jabbed a thumb in their direction. “Should we warn ‘em?”

I shrugged. “Nah, let ‘em experience Alberta in all its glory.”

We snickered again and walked on by.


Fifteen minutes later we trekked to the field again, curious how our picnickers were making out. The sandwiches had vanished and when I squinted, I could just make out a slice of lemon meringue all by its lonesome. Around it hovered two teenage boys about our own ages, a younger girl, and what we presumed to be their dad. They were red-faced about something, and it wasn’t from the sun. Shooting curious glances at each other, Chester and I slipped our hands into the pockets of our overalls and slinked on over to get into hearing distance.

“3.14159265358979!” shouted the older of the two boys.

“3.141592653589793238!” countered the girl.

The father said something we couldn’t quite catch.

“3.14159265358979...323846264!” yelled the younger boy in triumph.

Chester and I took the momentary silence as an opportunity to blink at each other. Were they seriously fighting for the pie... with pi?

“3.141592653589793238462643383.”

“3.1415926535897932384626433832795!”

Round and round they went, tacking more and more numbers onto the end.

“Hey, Josh...”

I turned to my buddy, “Yeah, Chester?”

“There’s a cloud on the horizon.”

I looked where he pointed. Sure enough, a fluffy white cloud broke up the blue sky.

“Five minutes?” Chester asked.

“I’d say more like three. We better run to your house or we’ll get soaked.”

The rain came pouring down just as we jogged into Chester’s garage, soaking us as if we’d been standing out in a downpour for hours. We stood under the edge of the roof line, peering out at the dark clouds booming overhead.

I ran a hand through my wet locks. “Wonder how the pi[e] went.”