The Demon in the Doll

Chapter 16

Hello. It's Buddy again, and I want to skip ahead in the story to Thursday night. That's when all hell broke loose. And I mean it literally.

I had another great football practice. I was gradually learning to terrorize the quarterback without getting called for silly penalties. In fact, my hits were so vicious that Champagne made the Buddy Rule. When I played defense, I was only allowed to two-hand touch the players with the ball. He was scared that I might hurt them. However, it was still perfectly OK to smash the offensive linemen. I went along with the program. He was the leader, so it was his show.

Champagne told me not to worry. He said that I'd have plenty of chances to kill and mutilate people on Friday night under the lights. My teammates gradually began warming up to me, too. Moose offered to help tutor me in math, and even Road Rage grudgingly shook my hand when he saw me in the huddle. He said that we should both bury the hatchet. He wasn't allowed to play until after the first game, so he spent Thursday practice in street clothes, giving tips to his backup Jorge.

Even Ned and Monster showed up to the practice. They sat in the bleachers and cheered every time I made a play.

Ned waved me over to the stands during a water break. Something was obviously on his mind.

He said, "Hey, kid, how come you ain't hitting anybody? Are you losing your mean streak?"

Monster said, "No mercy, kid. This is a man's game. Seek and destroy."

I said, "It's the new Buddy Rule. Tackling is off limits. I'm only allowed to touch my fellow players with two hands."

They both laughed uproariously.

Ned said, "It's official. You're now the king of the bad asses."

Monster said, "You're gonna end up making yourself a legend in this town."

A six p.m., some of the parents stopped by with pizzas. Each of us ate our fill while the coach talked about our opponent. It was some Catholic school out of Baton Rouge. Their quarterback was a real talented son of a bitch who could both pass and run the ball like a champ. The team was called the Archbishop O'Sullivan Friars, and they were one of the favorites to win the state championship.

Champagne said, "These motherfuckers think that their shit doesn't stink. They've got this crazy idea that they're going to come our backyard and take a dump right on our face. But I've got news for those motherfuckers. We're going to cut off their fucking heads and piss right down their necks. Trust me. They'll regret the day they came to our city. We're gonna rip the dicks right off those motherless fags and make them eat their own balls. Do you believe?"

Everybody applauded—including the parents. I had to fight back the urge to laugh. If my English teacher Polanski had spoken like that in front of the community, he would have been fired the very next day. But the rules when it came to coaching football were obviously different. A guy could literally get away with murder if his team won enough games. It was definitely a career path that was beginning to capture my interest. Champagne was singing my song.

Ned approached me when the practice was officially over. "June just called. She wants me to give you a ride home."

Monster said, "She's too blitzed to drive...even by her standards. You should have seen her at the bar. She killed an entire bottle of Stoli celebrating your success."

Ned said, "She's very proud of you, kid. We all are." He shot me a broad smile. "I haven't been this excited in years. I can't wait for tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."