The angle and timing were perfect.
Sam was just sitting there, bent over his laptop doing some kind of nerd thing that only nerds did instead of getting laid. His own drink was long gone, but not all the ice had melted. And coming over under the pretense of whining about food and telling his brother to look something up put him in prime position to drop four frigid ice cubes right down the back of his shirt.
Gotcha bitch.











