By Tyler King
I got the perfect life here at McKinney North High School. I always got whatever I wanted, even if it took more than being polite.
The story begins with me and the rest of my football team on the bus. I was pretty lucky to actually sit alone, because last year, I ended up sharing the seat with some fat kid, and whenever the bus took a turn, I ended up on my way to the floor, usually giving me a bump in the back of my head and the need to throttle the obese one. But, the conscience ended up always winning. Apparently he thought he was more "phat" than "fat."
Well, anyways, back to the story. Once we reached the stadium where the match was held, there she was. Anne Smithe. The hottest of the hot- the hardest reward to get in my book. She was the humanitarian of the cheerleading squad- the HOT humanitarian, I mean. She was a little whiny when something happens to anything that ever existed- and she was a little bit of a prep.
There she was, along with the other cheerleaders-the ones I rejected, practicing the routeins they needed to win over half a hundred of hearts. Then, there's one that looked so thin that even the skinniest of people are fatter than her. Also, there was also one who apparently wanted some attention, seeing as she had glasses so thick you can see the future through the specks, alongside to way oversized front teeth. And, she was really preppy. Another was a poser.
I quickly had to think of a way to get her dang attention:
2. Get in between two linebackers and let them sandwich me.
3. Get a capsule. Fill with ketchup. then place in mouth.
4. Curse at the toughest guy in the team.
5. Take the ball and run as slow as possible.
Well, I had to choose the third one. I got one of my used medicine capsules, went to the concession stand, and did my duty, only to get shot with the famous "What the heck are you doing?" and the not so famous "Somebody's psycho!"
Then, it was time. The cheerleaders were screaming so loud it would make the doctor happy.
Apparently, somebody didn't learn how to tie shoes well, because the opposite team was getting ready for the field goal, and when the ball was kicked, a shoe came flying after it and hit me in the stomach. I then bit down. Two of the cheerleaders came to check on me as soon as the gasps were being screamed as if the people on the other side were looking for a reason to curse at our team. As they both saw my wounds, one asked "if he got kicked in the stomach, why is his mouth bleeding?"