Axe body spray = EVIL

I was sitting in Algebra today chatting away to my good friend Alyssa when Dustin, the class dickhead, whips out a small canister of Axe body spray. Guys apparently have some sort of immunity to the stuff. He covers himself head to toe in the concentrated evil and shoots me a cheesy grin, as if he could see my lungs quivering in pain. Aggravated, I cover my nose and look at Alyssa, who is gagging like a hooker with Emphysema that has just been drowned and resuscitated twice. I turn my head to Dustin, about to ask him to cut it out, when I see the small metal can pointed at me. There is nothing more terrifying than a canister of Axe, not even a can of HIV infected snakes. So, I do what comes naturally. Duck. My head hits the desk, but not before he could get a good spritz of the ungodly fluid in my eyes and mouth. It's affect is that of holy water on a possessed person. Through my rage and gags, I reach out and grip his hair in my hands and proceed to slap him and jab for his eyes, but eventually I am led to the bathroom to rinse the stuff from my eyes. It still lingers (strongly) on my clothing.