As they crested another rolling hill, the skyline of
‘Finally!’ cried Marcy, ‘my crotch is really killing me.’
‘Just a half mile to go. Hang in there a bit longer,’ reassured
Just as they were all taking another stride forward, a woman appeared out of nowhere right before them, halting them in place.
‘It’s the hot chick!’ exclaimed Viper.
‘The chick from my race, the one at the pub.’
‘Hey, she was at my race too,’ said Marcy.
‘And mine,’ added Nitmos.
The woman was wearing the latest in posh women’s running gear, wearing just enough lycra to stay on this side of slutty. She swung her long hair behind her as she cracked her chewing gum.
‘Hand over the socks,’ demanded the woman.
‘What, are you hard of hearing as well as slow?’
‘The name’s Victory. Vicky to my friends. You of course will address me as Victory,’ she sneered.
‘And that matters to me why?’
‘Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know who I am, would you, loser?’
‘Homegirl is asking for a beatdown.’
Marcy looked at
‘I was just trying it out,’ she said sheepishly.
Victory tossed her hair again. ‘I’m Victory, you twit. I’m the reason anyone wins any kind of contest or event. That includes running events.’ She stared pointedly at Marcy, Nitmos and Viper when saying that last part.
‘You make it so we can win?’ asked Nitmos.
‘That’s right, dipshit. Without me you wouldn’t have all those age group awards.’
‘So are you why Nitmos and I missed out on age group wins in our last races?’ asked Marcy.
‘Duh,’ mocked Victory.
‘Because I don’t like being taken for granted.’
‘So, you caused these runners incredible pain to make your point?’ asked Xenia.
‘Do you also boil bunnies in your spare time?’
‘Listen Molasses, I don’t have all day. Give me the damn socks!’
‘Why do you want my socks? Go to a store and buy your own.’
‘Those were supposed to be mine.’
‘What do you mean?’
Victory huffed impatiently. ‘Those socks were the prize in the Independence Weight Loss Challenge.’
‘No shit, Sherlock. But I wanted to win so I could have the socks.’
‘But didn’t some girl named Stacy win those?’
‘Yes, but Running Knitter didn’t want to give up her socks, so she did a switcheroo with a pair she purchased from Target.’
‘Sneaky narcoleptic,’ muttered
‘Last time, slow poke,’ threatened Victory, ‘hand over the socks.’
‘Hell no, I’m not going to hand over the socks. I got them fair and square. [Editor’s note: Okay, not so much, but work with me here, people.] Bugger off and get your own.’
‘You asked for it.’ Turning her head, Victory called out over her shoulder, ‘Girls!’
Suddenly, three figures materialized in front of the running quartet. They were three of the ugliest chicks to walk the face of the earth. Warts, pimples, greasy hair, funky teeth. You name it, they had it in spades. They had been residents of The Ugly Tree and when they fell out they hit every branch on the way down. The quartet simultaneously shuddered in revulsion.
‘Jesus, what are they? Gorgons?’ asked
‘I think I may vomit,’ said Nitmos.
‘Not before me, homie,’ added Marcy.
Viper stayed silent with a horrified look on his face.
‘Let me introduce you to my friends,’ smirked Victory. ‘From left to right, we have Chafe, G.P. (short for Groin Pull) and Cramp.’ All three smiled at the quartet causing another wave of chills to pass through them.
‘Viper,’ said Victory silkily, ‘you remember Chafe, don’t you?’
The ugliest of the group stepped forward, apparently trying to smile sexily at Viper, but basically just distorting her already unfortunate face even more. ‘Hey baby, did you miss me?’
All three runners turned to stare at Viper. Viper’s face had turned three shades of green.
‘Those must have been some pretty strong beer goggles,’ remarked
‘I told you he got into some kinky shit,’ whispered Marcy.
The creature known as Chafe continued to address Viper. ‘Sorry I had to leave without saying good-bye, but I had to get back to work.’ She smiled at Victory. ‘But I have some great news ...I might be preggers! Fingers crossed! Isn’t that great, snookums?’
Viper immediately fell backwards, passing out.
‘Damn. Demon spawn,’ muttered
‘Homie, I think that’s the sign of the apocalypse,’ whispered Marcy to
‘Only if the child has 666 tattooed on it. Seeing both its parents, I wouldn’t doubt it.’
Nitmos had remained silent through this exchange, thankful that he had only been punished with leg cramps and a malfunctioning rear end. But, to be on the safe side, he covered his junk with his hands, fearful of being sperm-jacked like Viper.
‘That’s enough of that, Chafe. You’ll have time to chat with snookums later. Back to the matter at hand.’ She turned towards
‘Do your worst,’ she dared.
Just as Victory turned to order her minions to decimate them,
‘OH MY GOD, MY HAIR!’ shrieked Victory. ‘MY HAIR IS BEGINNING TO FRIZZ! I’M FRIZZING! I’M FRIZZING!’
Victory’s posse ran to her aid, but all she did was continue to freak out. Reassurances of ‘We can go to the beauty salon right now’ and ‘You have Ken Paves on speed dial, right?’ did nothing to calm the enraged woman. As G.P. and Cramp carried an hysterical Victory away, Victory got out one last threat, ‘I’ll get you one day,
Victory and the two minions vanished from sight, leaving Chafe staring at the group of them. Viper picked just that moment to regain consciousness. Groggily, he sat up and said, ‘I just had the worst dream...’ He trailed off when he spotted Chafe. Very quietly and without moving his lips, he whispered ‘Help me!’ towards his travel companions.
Nitmos was having none of it. Self-preservation was strong in that one and there was no way in hell he wanted to direct Swamp Thing’s attention towards himself. However, as always, the girls felt some sympathy for Viper’s situation. [Editor’s note: Though it was totally undeserved might I add.] They argued quietly about which of the two of them was going to speak up in his defense. While they were doing this, Chafe knelt down by Viper’s side and held his hand in hers.
‘Sorry about the theatrics. Victory can be a bit overdramatic sometimes. But anyway, enough about her.’ She smiled shyly at the ground. ‘So, you want to come meet my parents?’
‘WHAT do you think you’re doing touching my man?!? Get your hands off him, hussy! He’s my bitch,’ she stated the last emphatically.
Eager to extricate himself from Chafe’s claws, Viper nodded emphatically. ‘Yup, she’s right. I’m her bitch.’
‘But ... but ...’ stuttered Chafe. ‘What about our wonderful night together?’
Viper looked liked he was going to barf again. Nitmos too for that matter as he cowered behind
‘That was a screw-up he’ll be paying for the rest of his life,’ stated Marcy harshly. ‘I won’t ever let him forget it.’ She turned away from Chafe and laughingly smiled down at Viper. ‘Will I?’
Viper swallowed his pride and reminded himself that the alternative was unbearable. ‘Yes, honey,’ he meekly responded, though he nearly bit his tongue in half in the process.
‘But what about our baby?’ wailed Chafe.
Marcy looked her up and down critically. ‘My ass you’re pregnant,’ she challenged.
Chafe kicked at the ground in frustration. Taking one last look at Viper, she shuffled off, grumbling ‘That’s the last time I listen to Victory. Fake pregnancies never work.’
Viper heaved a huge sigh in relief as Nitmos peered cautiously over
‘Is it gone yet?’ he asked fearfully.
‘Yes, you pansy,’ answered
Marcy lent Viper a hand getting up. Dusting off his shorts, he mumbled something incoherent at Marcy.
‘Sorry, what was that, homie?’
‘I said thanks,’ he said resignedly.
‘Now was that so hard,’ she mocked.
‘Come on everyone. You too Big Daddy.’
The quartet took off at a brisk pace, eager to finally get to
[TO BE CONTINUED]
Here is the final part of the story:
On a personal running note, I went for another 10 miler this weekend. Well, what was supposed to be a 10-miler. I overshot a turn by a good distance and had to backtrack a ways to get back to my trail. [Editor's note: I just figured out I ran 11.28 miles on Sunday instead of the 10 I had planned. Shnikeys!] The cows were not amused by my noisy presence on the overgrown path and I was not amused with how many puncture wounds I took away from the flora. Overall, everything was fine, though my legs felt pretty dead towards the end of the run and my knees are super sore today. Guess it wasn't the best idea to spend the whole of today on my knees troweling the dirt. Hopefully they can sort themselves out before my run tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed.
One more thing. I'm official! Yesterday, I finally signed up for the Swanzey Covered Bridges Half Marathon. No going back now. I now challenge Razzdoodle to stop dragging his feet and sign up for his marathon already. Come on, Chicken! :)
Ci vediamo dopo. (See you later)