From the mid-late 80s:

Barry was going to have a house burning party. He hadn’t had a house warming party when he’d moved into his apartment and figured that a house burning party was appropriate moving out of it. Especially since he didn’t get along with his landlord.

I’m not sure what inspired me, but when I heard that Cameron would be attending the party, I figured that it’d be funny to hit him in the face with a pie. If I’d felt that he somehow deserved it, I’ve forgotten that and why I’d thought that.

I spent days dithering about whether to use whipped cream or shaving cream for the pie filling. I ultimately decided on whipped because I was worried that shaving cream would sting Cameron’s eyes.

At the party, I approached Cameron, holding the pie at waist height. I was attacked by second thought. I stood there, holding the pie, staring at Cameron. Cameron looked at me and then at the pie. I slowly raised the pie and Cameron slowly bent over to try to figure out why I was showing him a pie.

At this point, everyone is looking at us. Some knew what I was up to, some were as mystified as Cameron.

When the pie was chest height, I sped up to close the gap.

Luckily, Cameron also thought it was funny.