The university built a stadium for a hundred thousand, and DeWayne filled it every game he started.
Brought back 2 championships, too.
He said he wanted to go pro early, and the university said they wanted one more year.
“Or do you want your tutors to talk?”
He stayed another year.
They handed him a degree in finance, but when his pro days were over, he had to declare bankruptcy.
Cars. Jewelry. Houses. Child support. A crooked advisor.
It all brought him down.
What his entourage didn’t steal, the IRS locked up.
He coaches his high school now.
And weeps.
Category: My stories
Baby Hate
We’re wired to love our babies
This stinking bloody wrinkled crying lump. We’re supposed to love.
Some say its the drugs we give them, but they love these things even in natural birth.
I guess when you go through all that pain and agony, it’s a rush when it finally stops.
We tried an experiment in one hospital. The painkillers we gave them were supposed to make them hate the babies.
And it worked.
“Get it away from me!” they screamed.
Which worked out perfect, because each of them were putting their babies up for adoption.
No second thoughts.
Clean.
The Hunter
I lean over the rails, harpoon in hand, ready to strike.
They used to be everywhere, practically jumping into the boat.
Those were the good old days.
Did we overfish?
Too much pollution?
We had agreements. Treaties.
Not worth the paper they were printed on.
I see a shape in the water, and I spear it.
Hanging from the tip is a wild brain.
Not one of the best, mind you. Those days are over.
But this will fetch a good price. Wild is what they want most. Better than college-raised.
I clean the harpoon, and watch the waves again.
Grandparents Place
When I was little, my dad would drive us to my grandparents’ place in Chicago.
We’d visit for family things. Dinners out or dinners in.
Well, that, and to pick up the dry-cleaning. They owned a chain of dry-cleaning stores.
Sometimes, we’d borrow one of his employees to work as a maid.
They all looked so sick and weary.
Carbon tetrachloride cleaning solution. Nasty stuff.
My grandfather died from that stuff.
And dozens of his employees. Dozens.
You don’t tell your children about this kind of thing.
My other grandparents ran a grocer’s warehouse.
We just visited for free food.
Their Man In Washington
Bill wasn’t the brightest, but he was their man in Washington. So, his benefactors kept him in office, and they kept him happy.
Whatever he wanted, he got. And whatever they wanted, they got.
Sure, there were probes, but they gave him lawyers, and he never took the rap for anything.
Every two years, people went to the polls and voted for Bill. Unopposed, every time.
Bill would have a quiet victory party, and then head off to bed.
The next day, back to work, catching dogs.
His benefactors delivered the goods: food, litter.
Way, way overpriced.
Aren’t kickbacks great?
Penmanship
Fred always got high marks for penmanship. And nothing else. So, he never got into college, let alone earn a high school diploma.
That’s when he had the idea to kidnap. He figured one or two a year would net him a decent living.
The first was easy, until they got the ransom note.
“This is stunning penmanship!” said the hostage’s wife. And she had it framed.
He sent more ransom notes, and they got auctioned at Christine’s for a fortune. “Send more!” said the hostage’s wife.
Fred cut off the guy’s ear.
“That’s worthless!” said the hostage’s wife angrily.
Crowns
In the Kingdom Of Brand, everybody wears a crown except for the king.
Brand is a fairly wealthy region, with many productive gold and silver mines.
Since coins are fairly useless in a rich country, people turned all the excess precious metal into crowns.
At first, the king commissioned a bigger crown, but everybody wanted bigger crowns, too.
Pretty soon, everybody’s neck and back were sore.
The wise king took off his crown, and he never put it back on again.
As for everybody else, well, they’re just stupid.
And bald. So, to cover up their heads, they wear crowns.
Colonists
The colony ship dropped the nanobot construction pods and waited.
The nanobots would send signals when the atmosphere was ready for the first round of organic seeding.
After laying down the bacteria and plant life, a few test species would be released.
If they survived and thrived, then a carefully-planned set of predator-prey relationships.
Finally, the handpicked colonists would be thawed out and sent down.
Yes, the land shaped up nicely. And life thrived.
But instead of reviving the colonists, the colony ship was boosted into the sun.
“You’re not wrecking this place again,” said the nanobots. “Earth is ours.”
Stars in the sky
It has been a long time since I last went to the planetarium.
I remember going to the planetarium when I was growing up in Chicago.
I always wondered why there were so many more stars inside the planetarium as opposed to the actual night sky.
“Light pollution,” said my grandmother. “Too many lights.”
Nowadays, the planetarium does a lot less science, and a lot more rock and roll laser light-shows.
The audience is made up of stoners and kids dropping acid.
“Puff puff pass,” says my grandmother’s ghost, reaching for a joint. “Didn’t your mother teach you to share?”
God Hates
Whenever I see a sign that says “God hates” I ask “Why did God create that thing in the first place? And if God hates it so much, why doesn’t this God dude do something about it himself? What, is this God guy some kind of coward? Or wuss? What kind of asshole does that kind of shit?”
It’s not God that hates that thing. It’s you. You hate it.
So, let’s change that sign from “God hates” to “I hate”
Here, hand it to me.
Aaaaaaaaaaand done.
Now bend over so I can shove this sign up your ass.