Energy ricocheted off every wall and piece of furniture in Tito Valentino’s basement, jolting every fifth-grade boy in the Pellegrini’s basement with more loud and rambunctious ideas for fun and trouble that Friday in April. The sweet scent of sugary sweets and drinks mixed with the smelly stench of dirty socks, forming a sort bitter-sweet smell. To a spectator, the loud chants of victory after scoring a shinny-hockey goal, the loud cackles from Dan prank-calling a toaster vendor, and the whaling whines from being shot in the head with a nerf machine gun all at once may seem overwhelming, but to us kids it was just another Friday. Unfortunately, the disease we intuitively identified as “boredomsease” had plagued the basement and destroyed all
