Robert Red-Baer

Copyright 1981 by Robert Red-Baer   

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express written consent of Robert Red-Baer.

"William!" An ungodly sound, that name. The ugly sound pierced his eardrums-- a little dart sticking in his comfortable brain.
There were thousands of little William darts inflicting little William wounds underneath his skull. Every time one would loosen up and fall out, she would stab his mind with a replacement.
He could kill his mother for giving him such a sharp name. He would kill her now if she wasn't already dead. He really would.
"Why don't ya shut that ****ing trap, Fish Mouth!" His wife, right behind him, didn't hear it of course. He never could shout it loud enough to penetrate her impenetrable brain. She doesn't like cursing, anyhow. Marian says cursing is bad. She refuses to believe they actually do it in bed-- ****ing, that is. And as far as Marian is concerned they don't "****", they "make love," and the two are not related in the least to each other. William could care less what they called it, or if they ever did it again. He'd just as soon go to a football game as dirty-word with his wife. In a few minutes he would turn the TV on-- the Green Bay Packers were playing. The blank screen stared quietly at him as he sat back in the armchair and waited, Marian swaying silently behind him. Ah yes, football. Those were the days-- the days of William the great end, the greatest pass receiver of Middletown High School.
"Give me a W!"
"Give me an I!"
"Give me an L!"
"Give me another L!" He didn't mind being called William then. No sir, not then.
"Give me an I!" The seven cheerleaders jumped up throwing their legs apart and William would make that amazing cutaway catch he was noted for. He charged and dodged over the goal line, leaving all his menacing attackers sprawled behind him on the perspiration stained grass field. All the fans screamed and jumped up and down and hollered with ecstasy and the cheerleaders jumped and threw their legs apart.
"Give me an A!" Marian was a cheerleader then. One of the seven that jumped up. She didn't jump any higher or spread her legs any further than the rest of them. She just happened to be the one he married. Dumb Bitch.
"Give me an M!" M stands for Marian. That ass. That Marian. Better at leading cheers than anything. Better jumping and spreading her legs than lying down and spreading them.
"What does it spell?!"
Goddamn dart breath.
That one really hurt. That one really hurt his sensitive mind. He felt it push and poke-- the hated dart pushing and poking through his mind-- touched that sensitive area, the funny bone of his brain. He had to stand up and shout. It was something he had to do. "I'm not a dart board!" he shouted, "My mind is not a dart board!" He felt much better and sat down again.
Looking at the old High School pictures on the wall and his football trophy made him feel just like he used to. Good old Harry Manders, the passes he threw. The passes that felt so good when William pulled them down into his body-- holding the football close and protecting it from his vicious attackers-- practically pressing it inside himself as he carried it for a touchdown. Then the crowd would cheer and the cheerleaders would jump up and down, Marian included, and he and Harry would hug each other and congratulate each other for being such a good pair.
"Yea team!" The crowd shouted and shouted, "Yea team!" and "Yea Harry!" and "Yea William!" The unbearable roar of the crowd was sweet music that sent blood flying through his body. Blood never ran so fast as it did during those moments. The great moments of the football game-- Blood zooming. THE BLOOD ZOOMED AND CHARGED THROUGH HIS BODY! "
That game was almost as good as a good lay, eh William?!"
"That's right, Harry. Maybe even better, eh Harry?!"
"Nothin's better'n a good lay. I know that, William."
Harry was the best quarterback in Middletown High, the best they ever had, until he quit the team and got married. That fool had to get married, because THAT FOOL GOT A GIRL PREGNANT! Harry never played football again. William cried when he found out and then he went to Marian-- touched Marian-- talked to her-- ate her food-- rubbed lips-- pulled hair-- ate ice cream-- hated Marian and married her. He hated her and slept in the same bed with her.
He looked at the blank screen again, avoiding Marian's bug-eyed stare from behind his head. It had been fun searching through the old trunk earlier and finding her moth eaten cheerleading outfit. She looks so nice in it. She used to jump up and down; spreading her legs for the cheering crowd, she really looked great back then. When they were first married they were called the all-American couple. The all-star end and the toe-touching, leg spreading cheerleader. He looked at the large white "M" in the center of her maroon sweater. It stood for Middletown. No! It stood for wide mouth Marian-- her mouth all stretched and distorted from leading cheers. His eyes came back to the TV screen, he would turn it on any second now.
Without turning, he shouted, "Shut up, Stretch Mouth!" He knew she wouldn't hear it. Marian was posed in mid-air with her legs spread apart-- her hands touching her toes. William walked over and dusted his trophy. The best end of "seventy-nine" and Harry was the best quarterback and Middletown was the best team. He turned on the TV and the crowd shouted and cried with joy. Marian always did look nice in her cheerleading outfit-- the maroon skirt and panties and the white socks and tennis shoes. Yes it looked real nice on her.
He had to tell her and he did, "Stop throwing those darts at me. I don't want anymore darts in my mind. I am not a dartboard!" He looked up at the light fixture and the rope hanging from it. He never thought it would hold a hundred and twenty pounds. "The Packers are playing the Colts today, Marian. It's nice that you're cheering for them. You never liked Harry, did you? Well no matter, he doesn't play football anymore. He's the quarterback that had to get married, remember?" Marian was still in mid-air with her legs spread apart. They were announcing the starting line-up for the Packers. If it wasn't for dart spitting Marian, William would be in that line-up, he really would be. He sat down to watch the game and there was a dull thump behind him.
William stood and walked back to Marian, "Now look what happened. Your knot came loose and you banged your leg against the chair." He gently lifted her leg and tied it back to her wrist. "Stop sticking your tongue out at me Marian. It's time to start cheering for me."
William pulled his green helmet over his ears and fastened the chin strap as he pulled away from the huddle and moved into his end position. The crowd was roaring and jumping up and down, blood ZOOMED and CHARGED through him as the ball was snapped. William ran down the field and made the cut he was famous for, pulled the ball from the air, into his gut and hugged it tightly, keeping it all to himself. Marian was behind him in her cheerleading outfit. She was touching her toes in mid-air with her legs apart. But she wasn't cheering, everything else was usual, but she wasn't cheering. A little dart floated from her protruding tongue.
It hit William in the mind and he dropped the ball, much to the disappointment of the crowd.

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