Play Ball!

The warm weather that coincides with summertime had brought Brutus and Paul to boredom and extreme heat. Thus, it was time to get out and do something. "Let's go to the mall." said Brutus, as he pointed to his warn out flip flops that began to look like swiss cheese, as there had been multiple holes all the way through. "Wow, Brutus, you might have the most warn out sandles to ever remain in circulation. How do you live with yourself?" replied Paul, as he gave a hearty chuckle. Brutus was flabbergasted and taken aback. "What about yourself? Paul, man, you have the dirtiest socks I have ever seen..." This was a touchy subject for Paul. "SOCKS ARE RIDICULOUSLY OVERPRICED! I REFUSE TO PAY MORE THAN 50 Cents FOR MERE SCRAPS OF COTTON!" The silence embarrassed Paul. "You know what, your right YET AGAIN Brutus. It is again time to go to the mall. "Let us solve our boredom conundrum with a mall excursion!"
The two quickly got what they had needed; Paul, his 6 pairs of fresh knee high socks, and Brutus, new flip flops to galivant around town in the most leisurely way. While this solved their blaring fashion faux-pas, it was meant to sooth the boredom issue, which, in this regard, they did not succeed in.
"What do we do now?" Brutus stated, nonchalantly. "I'm still borrrrred!"
"Chill, Bruty, buddy! I have just the plan. You like baseball, right?"
"Yes... but our small and tumbleweed-riddled town does not harbor a considerably competitive team... unless..." Brutus trailed off.
"That's right. I am talking about the Kettlecornsville Kiteflyers, our home town team! Let us go see them! It is a beautiful summer day without a cloud in the sky!" This was a lie. There were scattered cirrus cummulus clouds to the south east. "What do ya say?"
Brutus paused, and replied. "The Kiteflyers are the biggest collection of horrible players I have ever seen. They haven't made the playoffs since the Roosevelt administration and I'm pretty sure they haven't won a game yet. It's Late July, Paul! Do you realize how pathetic that is?"
Paul replied, "Of course they are down on their luck right now... But maybe, just maybe if they have our vocal support, they'll turn it around!"
Brutus thought for a second. "Well okay. We have nothing better to do."
"That's for darn sure!" Paul said, and they got in their motor carriage and were on their way to Kettlecornsville Cornkettle Park, where such greats as the infamous knuckleballer Seamus "South China" Cee, the legendary Gary "Grinchclaw" Goldsmith, and of course, the most well known Kiteflyer ever, the greatest catcher in single A baseball history, fat 1st baseman Tandlebloom "The Refridgerator Dweller" Trindlegroom, (who refused to be called up to the major leagues, even after hitting a staggering 90 homeruns in a season for the Kiteflyers) had graced the field.
Paul and Brutus entered the game in the bottom of the first and already it was a 9 to nothing game. "Wow we are terrible," said Brutus, shaking his head in disgust.
"Brutus, give them a chance to answer back! You gotta have faith, Brutus, that's what baseball is all about." The kiteflyers answered this faith inspired chant by striking out consecutively from innings one through 3. "Farts!" exclaimed Paul.
"Holy (expletive), Batman, that was laughable! You guys stink! Go Greasetown!" The Kettlecornsville faithful had been hearing it all game long from this unruly fan of the Greasetown Greasers. "Greasetown rules! Kettlecornsville is horrible! My great grandmother could bat better than you chumps and her bones have slowly but surely deteriorated into nothingness! In fact I'm pretty sure she's dead, THAT'S how pathetic you are!" Such chants had really gotten under the skin of Paul and Brutus, and Brutus replied back, "Why don't you go back to Greasetown and bath in the grease of your disgusting and inbred townfolk you scum!" Paul was aware that this man was a lot larger than he, and was precarious to the remark Brutus had just made. "Sorry sir, he's a little slow!" replied Paul to the unruly fan. "Brutus what the hell, dude, that guy is LITERALLY a greaser!" Brutus was not so small himself. Known towns over for his baseball and football prowess, he quit both of the sports when a horrible and quite unmentionable incident forced him to swear them off FOREVER. "Dude I could obviously take that fat mess." The unruly fan replied back, "HEY! YOU TAKE THAT BACK! YOU'RE AN IDIOT!" Brutus took exception, "You wanna say that to my FACE, PUNK?"
"I AM SAYING THAT TO YOUR FACE, IDIOT!" Brutus jumped over the 4 rows of seats seperatating them and quickly socked the fan in his nacho cheese-infested face. "OWWWW! SECURITY!"
The security guards quickly rushed over to toss Brutus and the Greasetown native out of the ballpark. The security guard, however, knew Brutus. "Brutus! Oh my wordsworth! How have you been! Still going yard? Still playin' ball? hmmm?" Brutus answered. "No... I quit long ago."
"Why?" replied security guard Grint.
"Long story."
"Well, I'm going to have to kick you out of the park. It's a shame, the Kiteflyers could have used you, kid. Especially today. They only have 8 batters dressed. OH MY WORDSWORTH!"
The security guard was amazed to see a line drive ricochet off the Kiteflyers third baseman's head and into the 3rd row. "Dude, Brutus, didn't you play third base?"
"Yes... I did. But I swore off the game."
Just then, the unruly fan awoke from his punch-induced sleep. "Probably cause you suck too much! Is that why?"
"That's it. Give me a bat!"
Brutus then walked on to the field and socked 4 homeruns that day to give the Kiteflyers their first win of the season. It was their greatest victory in ages.

-FIN