Work can be stressful sometimes. Who can’t agree with that?

Last week, the members of the PR Department decided to alleviate our workplace pressure by stepping away from our computers for a few moments for a stress-relieving, team-building activity.

We decided to play Chubby Bunny. If you’re unfamiliar with this game, I’ll explain the rules. Each participant takes a large marshmallow, places it in his or her mouth and says the words, “Chubby Bunny.” Going around the circle, the participants continue to stuff marshmallows in their mouths while repeating, “Chubby Bunny.” The person with the most marshmallows in their mouth at the end of the contest wins.

So there we sat in a circle with our trashcans, glasses of water and paper towels, ready to obliterate one another through friendly competition. Round one didn’t go so well. I believe it would have gone better could we all have stopped laughing. Department manager Kevin Kuzma was declared the victor after shoving eight large marshmallows into his mouth.

Unhappy with our defeat and feeling we could all do better than our counts of four, four and five, we challenged Kevin to a second round. With our game faces on, we were determined to prove our worth by stuffing our faces with even more fluffy treats.

Round two was marked by less laughter, but more gagging. I felt elated when I surpassed my first-round best of four marshmallows when I sandwiched my fifth marshmallow in my mouth. Erin, our resident copy writer, attempted a fifth marshmallow but succumbed to a fit of uncontrollable laughter and was out of the running. Sarah, our beloved PR intern, managed to squash in number five and passed the bag onto me. It was on now. Kevin was going to lose Chubby Bunny to a couple of girls!

Things were getting pretty difficult after marshmallow number six, but I managed to pass the bag on to Kevin. Despite his dancing and attempting to sing “Can’t Touch This” with a mouth full of marshmallows, Sarah and I weren’t going to laugh and lose this battle or the marshmallows stuffed into our mouths.

Sadly, the intern lost it on the sixth marshmallow. While I was sad to see her go, I was determined to soldier on. With seven marshmallows in my mouth, I could tell I was near the end. I wasn’t sure there was much more maneuvering I could do to fit any more marshmallows in my mouth, but I sure was going to try.

Like a crazy Chubby Bunny machine, Kevin further puffed out his cheeks and fit in an eighth marshmallow. I thought I could definitely fit in another marshmallow to tie for eight. I could have done it, too, if Kevin hadn’t started drooling pure marshmallow. That’s when I lost it and laughed my marshmallows into the trash can.

Although our manager may have won this battle, the war is not over. Next time we’re in need of some stress relief, we still have half a bag of marshmallows sitting around in the office.