Splat 'n' Spat: A Mess Hall Melee

T'Mara Decatur sauntered to the food replicator. Moments she placed her order, a tray appeared on the replicator. The tray contained macaroni in tzatziki sauce, a chocolate chip corn muffin, and pineapple-flavored caffeinated cola.

Perfect, thought T'Mara. She loved Earth food, and she attributed her fondness of Terran cuisine to her human side, which was coincidentally the side of her family that also gave her a last name. T'Mara had to admit though, she was curious about the stares that she received from humans. Some complained that T'Mara's dishes weren't authentic enough.

T'Mara didn't care. It's replicator food, she thought. How authentic can you get?

After talking a bit with one of her co-workers, she turned around and started walking towards the tables. She had her drink in one hand and her tray in the other. She didn't have to look - she knew where the tables were in the mess hall. T'Mara had to admit - she was daydreaming. It was one of the few ways she tried to get her mind off of long days.

Suddenly she felt a splash of liquid on her left hand. Then, less then a second later, she felt a numbing slap fall across her left cheek. She turned slowly to her left and saw the scowling face of her roommate - Rival. Her uniform was covered in the pineapple cola, and her face was covered in pure anger. T'Mara winced as she felt Rival's manicured hand slap her head in the opposite direction.

T'Mara felt her hand make its way to her hips and her fingers balling up into a fist. Suddenly - with seemingly explosive power - T'Mara's fist twisted and slammed into Rival's abdomen. Macaroni, muffin, and tzatziki flew all over. And before T'Mara could even process a thought, Rival was reeling over.

T'Mara was stunned. A sense of guilt washed over her face. Punching Rival certainly wasn't the most logical thing to do, especially given their strained relationship was roommates. But it seemed all automatic, as if someone had seized control of her body for a split second. And it was certainly too late to take it back now.

She didn't have to feel guilty for too long. Just as swiftly, Rival retaliated with a punch to T'Mara's jaw.

The requisite mess hall melee has begun.

Rival couldn't believe it. Here was T'Mara - that brat of a roommate - being a complete pain in the neck again. Could that little mongrel just use some common sense once in a while? She wondered what computer algorithm in the right mind would have matched her with T'Mara. They were obvious opposites, thought Rival - she was composed, while T'Mara was too emotional.

Even their idea of what their room would look like was very different. Rival liked everything in the right order. T'Mara, on the other hand, kept her side of the room very disorganized. Rival wondered of T'Mara thought it was some sort of game to keep her room as close to the minimum inspection requirements without crossing the line. Whatever it was, Rival found T'Mara's lack of organization utterly annoying.

Rival had high hopes for T'Mara. Before she even met T'Mara, she learned that her new roommate would be a Vulcan. Rival was excited to have a roommate that she assumed was going to be neat and tidy. Rival quickly learned that her expectations were wrong when she saw T'Mara move in with boxes and boxes of what seemed  to be a random array of items. Somehow T'Mara managed to fit all that stuff in her drawers.

Getting splashed by some mystery liquid was, as humans put it, "the straw that broke the camel's back". Rival really wasn't thinking when she slapped her roommate, but she had to admit - she didn't feel bad after slapping her.

It was extraordinarily easy to attack T'Mara again, especially since T'Mara had almost knocked her over with that punch.

(( Feel free to have others jump in. ))