New Rules New Game

1) Exercise your Killer Instinct by submitting your VERY BEST

poem or story to

no bio needed, you retain the copyright.

2) Be Creative.

You will be judged by ME, then by your fellow killers.

3) If you're Good, you will make THE HIT LIST.

If you're not, don't expect any Remorse.

Good Luck.

Jul 15, 2012

Foul Play

by Absolutely* Kate

Jenny swatted troubles like the Bambino hit fly balls. Outta da park. Trouble was, the troubles all started in Clifford park. Night games. Under bright lights. Big diamond. Bases loaded.

Bases not covered though. These Troubles, they came from outta town. Then they came at Jenny. They came like bats outta hell. Dastardly dudes. Uniforms not included. Jenny didn't have a fighting chance to crack a full swing. They mauled her and they balled her, the Troubles did. Yep, Jed Trouble and his stinky brother Fred. They left poor Jenny under the bleachers for dead. Those Louisville muggers yanked the big diamond from the dainty chain wrapped tight 'round her sultry neck. Honest to gumption, ripped it right smack dab off her head. Just left Jenny bleedin' and coagulatin' there dead. Right there, near right field. Some say it ain't so Joe, but Me? Well hell, don't take no more'n rookie to call that steal, foul play.

Pitchin' woo ain't all it's cracked up to be, I guess. Even with the spin. Home team advantage may bring an easy score, but when a close game was a close game, Jenny always cried out for more. She knew her fan base, Jenny did. She keened who was on first, what was on second and had no never mind for those who slid in their "I don't knows." Jenny was no benchwarmer. She rallied. She played the field.

But no sirree Bob, even if your name ain't even Bob, but Stanley or Kevin, there are days that turn night into night games. Wreak cold havoc hell from hot streak heaven. Dark nights when all hell is split seams and nuttin' but nuttin' is as it really seems. That's the way it was with Jenny. She was some cracker jack and prize all rolled into one. The team players? They all knew Jenny's number. "Tight squeeze in a hot box" was what they dubbed her. Megaphones not included. They jes whispered raspy, up close and personal. Jenny took it all in like peanuts and beer and hot dogs. She had some appetite Jenny did.

But purty Jenny had winning ways about her. Her stats were chock full o' sass and that gal never struck out. That's how she got that flashy diamond in the first place. Coach's favourite. The one who made it to more than first base. Offered her a whole new ball game. Promised to keep her safe at home and backstop her fears with a white picket fence just this side o' Easy Street. Sunday double-headers topped off with a stroll to the corner ice cream store. Peachy keen, who could ask for anything more?

Jenny could. I thought that diamond was forever but she dug out a few rubies, a sparkling sapphire and an emerald or two too. All on a coach's meager take at the gate.

Well, that was 'bout all Coach Ted Casey could take.

Mebbe could be why Ted called up the farm team -- cousins Jed and Fred.

It's a dismal town now, down near the playin' fields.

There's no joy in Meadville since mighty Casey's revenge struck out.

Over apple pie though, Ma fingers her stunning brooch and smiles truth at Aunt Ruth with the dangly earbobs . . . she calls it a triple play.


  1. Wait a second. This isn't really about baseball, is it?

  2. What's that? You say it ain't so, Joe?
    But golly, gee . . . it all took place at Clifford Stadium.

    That was my curve, Joe.
    Thanks for callin' me into the ballpark for me turn at bat, Killer.

    ~ Absolutely*Kate

  3. like your comparison! and your reference to the who's on first deal was well played! nice!

  4. No Baltimore chop here. This one hits for the cycle!

  5. Well played game! I bet Ma likes her stunning brooch better than a home run ^_^

  6. Complicated and simple as the third base coach'es hand signals when the game's on the line. Jenny tried a double steal and Coach brought in the pros from Dover to stop the no hitter with a pair of hitters and,(fans o'the Harvard comma please do the wave now)as usual, the White Sox turned Black in the collision at second base. Killer tale, Absolutely Katie Kat. Cool.

  7. Glad to see a new story in the classic Kate style. No joy in Meadville, huh?

  8. Oh you kids in the stands ~ you know your stuff. With that oooomph, no Ump required. Bolton and Seana ~ glad you dug-out the tucked in parts as I rounded the bases with my own inner grinnnn. From Helen's Well played game! to Mr Harris slidin' in one of fave parts of baseball lore - the cycle -- the scoreboard lit up in this gal's eyes.

    But holy gee whiz -- take me out to the ball game with the feller who puts the spinnnn on, clear from da cheap seats in da centerfield bleachers -- AJ Hayes is much more than a Babe Ruth candybar when special treats come to bat.

    Thanks guys. Thanks Anonymous folks up in da press box for lettin' me come swing for the fence in your Killer stadium. ~ Absolutely*Kate

  9. Never did like ball parks...give me a hockey arena any day. So much safer and civilized, as you've just proven. Beantown, not Meadville, slapping, no curve balls, but Kate all day long.

  10. Nice work, m'dear, lovely stuff! :)

  11. I don't understand anything at all about this story.

  12. Jools and Steven ~ You masterful editors of how the written word comes to dance -- Grace o'my thanks for comin' on out to the ballpark and lettin' loose a cheer from the stands.

    Tough Tiger ~ Though you were puck outta luck when the stadium out-summered Stanley's arena, I'm sure mighty glad you sashayed your stuff up to the hole back in the centerfield fence to have your sporting look-see.

    ~ Absolutely*Kate

  13. Better late than never? So sorry it took me too long to get here Kate, but I'm so glad I finally did. I've missed your stories, (and yes, I know that's my fault, I've missed a lot), so much. Love, love, love the natural rhythm you always give us!

  14. Deanna, Deanna ~ Oh yeah Lady, I've missed our reads and writes and smilin' wide at gettin' the messages in the roads word travel us. So very glad to see you sneak into this killer joint. (Uh, keep your eyes on the door, though - these are tough characters I had to mix up with)

    ~ Absolutely*Kate, thankin' once again, the anonymous board of THE KILLING PANDEMIC who broke the lock to sneak me on in to this hotbed of ruthless toughies. Real darn glad so very many authorfolk I admire came by to witness another run around the deathly bases . . . *THANKS* -- Who's up next?