In my old regiment we had what we called The Tunnel of Love. Two sofas in the officer's mess would be tipped over on their sides to make a "tunnel" and two teams of junior officers would start at opposite ends and attempt to battle their way through in gladiatorial fashion while the senior officers held the couches down with their big bellies. It was not a pastime for the claustrophobic. On a visit to one of my elementary schools last week I encountered a longer, darker, smellier tunnel. It was made out of cardboard and masking tape and smelled of glue and stale body odor. Naturally I was invited to play tag inside of it but I only made it through once before succumbing to nausea.
I spent the rest of the noon hour grabbing feet through the ever increasing number of tears in the system and tickling them.