The Snowball

I feel I should clear up a longstanding misconception, a subject of much controversy and furious debate. It is my duty to let the world know the definitive and unbiased facts of an event which occurred long ago.
On one of the first days of snow my freshmen year in college, I was diligently preparing for Greek class, laying my dog-eared notebook, different colored pens and highlighters, weighty lexicon, and thoroughly-poured-over homework on the classroom table in geometrically-precise order and with ring-side view of our venerable tutor, Mrs. Werbach. Suddenly, jolting me out of the revery of verbs I was conjugating in my head, someone yelled,
"ARM YOURSELF, COSSACK!!"
I turned to the door to see whose bellowing was disrupting the scholarly quiet in the room and saw one of my colleagues and friends, let’s call him,…"Eaudious,"… in the doorway, brandishing a tightly-packed snowball at me. Though he was wearing his usual cheery smile, cheeks all a-dimpled, he was clearly attempting to portray menace in his pose, so I decided to honor his challenge by simulating panic. I ran up (some witnesses might say, "charged") at O’Deeas, and stared into his eyes with a fierceness reminiscent of my ancestors, the Viking warrior-kings. We faced-off for ten seconds, two deadly enemies locked in ocular combat. We grabbed each other simultaneously. Surprisingly strong for his size, O! Dios avoided being crushed in my bear-like grip by doing a Moroccan hip-shimmy and shaking his fists like a wee babe crying for the teat. Unable to contain his feistiness any longer, I threw him down to the ground in what the professional wrestling world calls the "Mortifying Body Slam."
Here is where impressions of the event diverge. Now, it is perfectly reasonable to assume that Ode-Y-Us threw me in the Turkistani Hurl-Down, rather than the other way around, as he had in the past displayed prowess in such vulgar tactics. There was the incident, which I had forgotten for years until recently reminded, when he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder as I was descending the steps to the courtyard, carried me to the fishpond, and threw me in. What I remember most vividly now that I remember anything, is that I had been wearing my Natasha Badenoff boxers and red leather Mary Janes, which were then soaked and filled with green pondscum. So flukes do happen.
However, I distinctly remember that on this, the incident in question, it was I who sent Odie-Ass crashing to the floor, and, clumsily, onto my ankle, spraining it badly.
In his defense, AuDias did seek forgiveness in his shy but unmistakeably contrite way by humbly bringing cafeteria meals to my dorm room for several days after our duel, when my ankle hurt too much for me to fetch them myself. I was in even more than usual pain for the days following his reckless and ill-fated attack as that night I had gone to one of our college’s swing-and waltz parties and further injured myself with much dancing.
So, folks, there’s the truth, objective and exquisitely accurate. I hope I’ve cleared up some of that pesky skepticism concerning the events of that day. Cheers!