A small pub near Fludoscarr.

That's nothing, but when I went south with my class (to Sochi), we postponed the delightful moment of "bombing" until after we arrived and started throwing things out the hotel window. The most reckless ones even aimed at the cleaning lady, the poor thing, who was trying to clean everything up.
By the way, our arsenal included not only fruits and vegetables, but also yogurts – truly hellish bombs:smile51:

Okay, if we're reminiscing, let's really reminisce! We went there as if to a camp, ate according to a schedule, and at almost every lunch, we were given something called "Krymka" (a kind of fermented milk product in a plastic cup). In taste, Krymka was very similar to kefir, but it was much sourer and not very pleasant to eat. On the one hand, we didn't want to eat it, and on the other hand, we didn't want to leave it in the dining hall. And at one point, we realized the full "entertaining potential" of this Krymka. We lived on the 3rd floor, there was a beautiful balcony, and a paved area below it. We threw these Krymkas both onto the pavement and further away :D, sometimes even onto the lawn, but usually to see who could throw the farthest. After 3-4 days of our afternoon "bombings," the area looked as if someone had spilled a lot of white paint on it. But the climax of our mischief came later. Some boy (about 8-10 years old, I'd say) was rummaging through a pile of pebbles on that very area. He was sitting there, preoccupied with his activity. And then our main Krymka-thrower suggested scaring the poor boy by exploding another Krymka next to him. Everyone agreed... But due to a silly misunderstanding, there was a misfire, and the Krymka landed right under the boy, staining him quite a bit. That's how we got caught. When we found out that some angry guy was coming to "punish" us for our misdeeds, we immediately opened all our Krymka reserves and started stuffing ourselves with it. Wow! The guy comes to those who, according to what he was told, are just throwing Krymka around, and they are sitting there quietly, peacefully drinking it. There was plenty of swearing, but that was the extent of our "punishment."

P.S. And what I remember most about our building is the window on the balcony on the left, through which you could clearly see the toilet. It's not like there was just a crack in the wall or something. It was a real window (by the way, one of the few made of metal-plastic). Well, they should have figured out how to make it so that the person on the balcony could easily observe the person... relieving themselves. Thank goodness that only "our" people had access to that balcony. We operated according to the following scheme: the person going to the toilet would warn everyone in advance so that no one would go out on the balcony and no one would be allowed on it. But there were also cases when girls who came to visit us caught the poor guys off guard. I, thank goodness, never got caught. But I haven't encountered such madness since then, and I say that with confidence. I'm posting a photo I took with my phone (the phone was terrible back then, so the quality is accordingly).

I wonder what logic those who made that window were guided by? Maybe they thought it was good to admire the beautiful blue sky while sitting on the toilet?