The Black House
We walked to the burned out house in the middle of the avocado grove and smoked Eric's cigar-sized joint. Eric and Mike decided to grab some fallen avocados and a rotten branch and play Guacamole Baseball. It was a simple game, there were no winners, only losers.
One player grabbed the rotten branch, the other player stood near a pile of windfall avocados. The player near the pile threw the avocados at the player with the branch. The player with the branch tried to put it between their body and the incoming avocados.
If you got hit, the pit would sting when it hit your skin and the meat would explode into mush in a million directions and cover you both with green shrapnel. If you hit it, the pit would fly at the pitcher and the meat would explode into mush in a million directions and cover you both with green shrapnel. Either way, you were going to get dirty, just not as much if you managed to hit it.
There were no points, no series, no purpose but the green explosion and the thrill of it. When you saw a head-banger kid coming into class covered in chunky green goop, you knew what they were doing the previous period.