Balls and keys. Why?

I do have to wonder exactly what it is about Baileys and/or cocktails that makes occasionally mature people like us act this way... the trouble is how to describe last night for the people who weren't there and try to make it sound as if there's some logical progression of events.

1: Keys
So, Celery had nicked Kieran's key (but in an amiable way, and fully intending to return it in the moment of greatest entertainment value) and tried to leave it in his keyhole. He had spent quite a long time apparently looking for it on the Backs (big grassy area) with some kind of torch, and possibly a comb, so it was only fair he eventually find it and kick himself for a wasted search... unfortunately, the room wasn't actually empty when she tried to return said key to keyhole.
Kieran came down to James' room with the news that someone had tried to pick his lock while he was inside the room...

Entering the room, Kieran approached me (I'm innocent, dammit!) and very patiently informed me that I had his key. Not thinking quickly enough, I pointed out he probably wanted the other Sarah. Luckily, Celery is apparently quite good at covering for herself. : D

My memory gets confused at this point... there was a lot of running around and giggling involved, including hiding the key in a bathroom, then hiding in Celery's room while he washed the peephole with a kitchen sponge (he thought we were watching at the time, so it was supposed to be vaguely insulting. All we were aware of was the squeaking).

Kieran did in fact return much later from his accusations to find a key conveniently waiting in the keyhole. Coming part of the way downstairs, he handed me the key and told me to, if I remember correctly, show it to the roomful of people and ask if anyone knew what it was... or something. Actually, I don't remember correctly. But I do remember that after regaining his key, he gave it to someone else of his own free will...

I went down to the room, said something like, "Kieran got his key back. And look, this is Kieran's key. He gave it to me. Do you think he's getting it back?"

Silly rabbit...

And after that, I honestly forget what happened, although I think I may have given it back to Celery, who put it back in the door. The story of the key isn't quite finished.


2: Balls
At some point, and God only knows why, Kieran brought two tennis balls downstairs - Ana and myself immediately grabbed one each and started throwing them against the wall in the main corridor. We tried playing Sevens (anyone from Derry remember that?) but there really wasn't room to spin around...

Again, I'm not sure exactly what led to me throwing tennis balls at Richard - I think possibly he laughed at us for playing ball games, or possibly it was because he refused to play... anyway, somehow there began one of those games where we each tried to hit the other person, potentially in painful places, with the ball while avoiding being hit... luckily, Richard throws like a girl and I throw like a marginally more aggressive girl with bad aim, so I don't think any bruises ensued from this.

However, at some point one ball was stolen, so there was only one ball in play.
Then things got rough...

Richard got hold of the remaining ball. This was not good. He was duly attacked for the ball... I don't remember how we got in the kitchen but I do remember rebounding from both of the non-cupboarded walls while people watched with a fair amount of interest through the convenient little window in the door. Yes, it was fairly violent, if in a friendly way - I have an annoyingly large bruise on my shoulder, but apparently Richard has at least two good bruises, so I can deal with it. : D

At some point he ran out the door of the kitchen and was pulled down in the corridor... it's surprisingly difficult to take a tennis ball when the person holding it has assumed the foetal position. In the end, I did have to pry his fingers apart to get the ball (stupid phrase, but closest to the truth), at which point he made a half-hearted attempt to get it back before the 'Sod this' factor kicked in - another 5-minute assault? ... please, no more...

3: Keys: Revisited & Ongoing
On returning to my room at roughly 2.30am, I found the following note had been posted under my door:

"Temp. Return [1] one, key.



Dear Sarah O'Donnelly -

The satisfaction I received when you returned to me my key was not either equal to, nor greater than, nor not less than considerable.

I should very much like you to repeat the exercise. Thank you.
Yours sincerely, Kieran Phillips."

And yes, his key was included.
Does this man never learn??

I wrote him back a note, attached to the one tennis ball I still had:

"It seems you seek a crawling apology from an innocent party.
I DO NOT CRAWL.
Incidentally: returned: one [1] tennis ball.
I do not know the whereabouts of the other - unfortunately it was relocated while I was being mean to Richard's arms."

The key was not returned, obviously. Kieran responded with a fairly good cartoon of himself and apparently an unknown male character playing a card game - odd, it seems a lot like a card game he fooled me with (yes - I was actually crawling on the floor. Good recall, Kieran). Only the character was very obviously male, which I found insulting.

In return, I drew him one of the infamous stick figure cartoon strips depicting the hunt for the key. Only of course, I replaced Kieran with a watermelon.

And now, I wait. Thankfully. This post really is too long.