"No escape, loser," Dad calls out.
Thwang.
Smack.
A rubber band bounces from the top cupboard and lands beside me. I snatch up my ammunition, arm my finger and move closer to the end of the bench. Soon I would have my revenge.
"Hi-ya!" I leap up, take aim.
Thwang.
Snap.
"Owe!" I cry out.
Dad was faster, the rubber band he shot stinging my bare shoulder before I was able to shoot. by his hand on the dinning room table is the pot of rubber bands.
"Cheater! I'm telling Mum," I sulked.