"STRIKE TWO!" yelled Trent from first base. There were umpires for these pick up games, just judgmental 7 year-olds. Everyone made calls that benefited their own team. Arguments were frequent and heated.
"WHAT?" demanded Matt, bat in hand. "That was way outside!"
Trent walked up to Matt and threw his hat on the asphalt. "What are you talking about? It was right down the center," he said, gesturing to the center of Matt's strike zone.
"You know what, I'll take a mulligan."
"A do over."
"Ugg...fine," said Trent. He picked up his cap and ran back to first base and yelled, "It's a do over!" to the other players.
Matt stepped up to the plate and got into batting position. Trent took it upon himself to remind everyone what the count was. "One and two," he shouted, gesturing with his hands just in case anyone didn't understand.
Sean stood at the mound and looked at his catcher, which was in fact an empty, tipped over trashcan. Matt tapped his bat on the rice bag that was home plate and did a few practice swings. Finally, Sean nodded his head (as if agreeing with a signal from the trashcan) began his windup. When his arm reached the top of its arc, the ball left his hand with tremendous force. It was an almost 30mph fast ball, and this time it actually was right down the center. Matt swung at it with great speed. The loud ping of aluminum hitting baseball filled the air.
The ball flew through the air almost in slow motion. All the players followed its path with their heads, each one of them looking up, from left to right. The stared transfixed as the ball inched closer and closer to Trent's bedroom window. Suddenly, it seemed as though the ball caught fire and grew arms and legs. Before the anthropomorphic fireball reached the window, it stopped, turned around, and ran through the air right at Trent. He sped away from the ball of flame as quickly as he could; but the laws of physics did not seem to apply to the ball, and it caught up with him before he could reach the sidewalk.
There was nothing for Trent to do at that point but stand his ground and try to fight. The ball floated in front of Trent, its great mane reflecting in his eyes. Finally it reached back and punched Trent in the right eye, causing it to swell shut almost immediately. To everyone's surprise, it was a relatively bloodless blow. An instant later, the ball brought out its right leg and round-house kicked Trent square in the nose. Blood squirted everywhere as Trent fell to the ground. Matt and the rest of the players watched as Trent lay on the ground helpless. The ball, just to add insult to injury, then flung itself into Trent's hair, setting it alight. Trent immediately got up and ran into his house to put out the flame. Unbeknownst to Trent, the pilot light on his stove had gone out, meaning that a steady flow of natural gas had been leaking into his house. As soon as he opened the door, his entire house was engulfed in flames as it exploded into a million tiny peaces. Trent's precious, and much bragged about, PlayStation 3 flew up into the air and landed safely in Matt's arms, still intact. The blast mercifully spared Trent, and he emerged form the rubble without any additional injuries, forced to watch Matt enjoy his brand new PlayStation 3 (which, for some strange legal reason, Trent was not allowed to reclaim).
Matt shook his head and apologized for breaking Trent's window. He then went inside and grabbed a broom to clean up the glass that had fallen into the street and offered to vacuum the inside as well. He stared up at the window and felt elated. Even though he was left with the cleanup, leaving a hole in Trent's window left him feeling quite satisfied.
Created: Jan 09, 2010Document Media