Well Zombie Santa, it all comes down to this. This is your two down, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, clinging precociously to a one run lead. Three balls, two strikes at Yankee Stadium on a crisp autumn night. Seventy thousand mutant New Yorkers screaming for the blood of infidels from Lost Angeles. Life, death, and fate of humanity rests on this next pitch Zombie Santa, better make it a good one.
Perhaps not quite as serious as all that, this was still a big one. Tied at one game apiece in the best of three series, the noble and mighty Minnesota Missiles looked to defeat the lowly and depraved Superhero Boys and thus claim Supreme Champion status at Jesse’s Annual Halloween Party Peer Pong Tournament. With a two cup to one advantage and both balls to shoot, the Missiles hoped to settle the eternal question of who would win in beer pong contest between Jesus and Chuck Norris versus MacGyver and Zombie Santa.
A hush settled over the crowd as MacGyver took a hit off his Camel Light and slowly calmed his breathing. Touchdown Jesus was the picture of cool, behind his massive beard and dark aviators, robes flowing with the confidence of a True-Believer. Chuck Norris (Walker Texas Ranger style Chuck Norris) seemed slightly more nervous, but still confident. Chuck Norris had been a sniper all night, crushing hopes and dreams like bad guys with round house kicks and deadly accuracy. MacGyver settles in and nails it. Calm and cool, his demeanor doesn’t change after such a huge shot. He shrugs, notices that his cigarette has gone out, and fishes another out of the hard pack. The man is a Professional Murder.
Across the table, I notice Wonder Woman, a saucy little brunette Trixie, has taken a keen interest in this epic battle of good and evil. Firm, young, beautiful. She licks her Wonder Lips and smiles at me. An invitation perhaps? A distraction maybe? No time for superhero loving right now, I must make this shot.
I step back and breathe, I settle in and focus. Not only does the fate of good versus evil rest on this shot, but the very real chance at removing Wonder Woman’s top later on in the evening…I must make this shot. People are getting louder now, they know this is the big one, the grand poobah of beer pong shots, and they want to stand up and be counted. When their children ask, someday, where were you the day Zombie Santa sank the most epic shot in the beer pong history of the world, they’ll be able to respond: I was there. So I let that orange little jack o lantern fly in the cool dark night, and let my thoughts drift towards other, unrelated matters. I thought about that girl I’d met at that wedding a couple weekends ago, and whether or not she’d call me, I remembered that I needed to book my flight back to the Midwest for the holidays, and above all, I decided that I was definitely hungry for carne asada fries from Javier’s.
A soft prayer slipped through Touchdown Jesus’ holy lips as the orange sphere disappeared into a red keg cup with a satisfying clunk. I winked at Wonder Woman across the table and smiled as I high-fived MacGyver. The world was safe for another day.