by King Brody
“How do I get in?” she said as I passed the locked entrance gate to the Sayville High School track. I had just completed my fifth lap, my first without a shirt. I had enough energy to finish my four mile scamper, but this encounter would surely provide enough stamina to make the next eleven laps fly by like so many gliding Usainothors on their way to the outer reaches of Solaris. I roared internally knowing, if needed, I could sprint halfway to Neptune and not tire. Twenty-one days had passed since Og Thor’s fury had sent me to the farthest depths of Hades. I had nineteen days left in my sentence but I needed to return to Earth’s surface to get my fitness level back where it should be. Sloor fighting is exhausting, and their numbers in Hades greatly exceeded my expectations. Sayville’s proximity to both the ocean beaches of Long Island and the Fire Island ferry boats made it the obvious place for me to re-enter the land of the living without Og Thor and the other Ogthorians discovering my location.
Back to the girl. She was tanned like a pair of J. Crew chinos. Her face, had I seen her it on a Facebook search for females in Sayville age 17-38, would have made me poke and friend her. Her long, toned legs rose to perfectly fill a pair of short cotton duck shorts (“Why do they call them duck shorts, because they’re four inches away from her quack.” Liam Banks told me that joke my first day of high school). I would have given up my ability to digest solid foods properly to see those ducks slung over my fold out couch in the morning. In her left hand was a Discman- the perfect accessory that only added to my shirtless and sweaty intrigue.
Shirtless and sweaty, I responded to her query of passage. Without causing an abrupt end to my workout, I managed to slow down to steady run-in-place jog, and, with some shortness of breath, said, “Pay no mind to the cardboard sign warning all those close enough to read it that this track is off limits until July 27th! Tis July 31st! Over yonder there lies a primitive plastic Earth-fence, easily crushed by the feet of any mortal, female included. Go, fair Sayville wench, and enter the oval ring of fitness and join King Brody in his celebration of the human form. Locomotion, athleticism, stamina, strength, and shirtless, flawless physiques will be on full display for you to enjoy, to covet, and to lust for, if you choose.”
She accepted my invitation, remaining approximately two hundred meters ahead of me for the next two laps. Her pace was an adequate distance to provide both visual motivation and practical encouragement; she was my Rabbit, and I her pack of lean, athletic, wildly randy Greyhounds. To overtake her would have been a detriment to this particular training session. Physically she was flawless except for a slight hitch in her running motion that I attributed to too much elliptical machine usage.
The start of mile three (the tenth lap I believe) was when everything changed. Distracted by the only female form I had seen in a fortnight and a half, I had failed to recognize the chorus of cheers and screams behind me. As I wheeled around the rubberized ellipse, my eyes focused on two score of cheerleaders no more than sixty meters away from the southwestern edge of the track. Cheerleading camp had been moved outside with impeccable timing. Overcome with every male form of desire (even the one’s banned in Ecuador), I now had enough power to complete my previously mentioned, unfinished metaphoric trip to Neptune.
As I got closer, the team of girls came together to form what seemed to be an Egyptian Triangle (pyramid). I noticed something peculiar yet familiar about the construction. This was not a cheerleading camp at all. It was Og-Thor disguised in a form that, to the eye, was most pleasing. Now fully transformed, with his nine feet, four hundred pound frame of diamond muscle, punctuated with his flowing crimson locks, sky blue eyes and webbed toes, Og Thor began his unrestricted, full throttle sprint in my direction. Black frothed foam spewed from the corners of his lips as he continued his rush, unaware that my innocent, iPod-be-damned rabbit blocked his pathway to this mighty showdown. Armed with only my wits, unequaled vascularity and 300esque strength, I caught up to rabbit, wrapped my arms around her now soaked through white t-shirt and rolled her to the ground, my Corinthian back absorbing the totality of Og Thor’s initial charge. She did not survive the impact. With one hand full of hair, eye balls, and brain, and the other clasping a blood and tissue soaked femur, I initiated my counter attack. Rabbit’s hair and brain ball served as a more than adequate projectile, sailing true and hard towards Og Thor’s abdomen. At impact, Og Thor let out a hellacious moan; that was all my ears needed, but my eyes told me he had sustained both an entrance and an exit wound- I guess a rabbit head is lucky, too. I now had confidence to charge, femur in hand, and deliver a fatal blow to my sworn enemy. Now on one knee, Og Thor had let his guard down just long enough for me to approach without resistance. But Og Thor was smart- he wanted me this close. Head raised, he stared me down as I swooped in, femur raised behind my head. With one hand he pounded the moist Sayville soil, opening a cavern to the depths of Hades. His other arm was flexed and ready for my strike, proving to be impregnable to my mighty swing of Rabbits former leg. Shattered on impact, the femur and my will, I collapsed into the makeshift Hades entrance. As I tumbled further in, I could see Og Thor’s delight reveal itself on his face. His stomach wound, still bleeding, was now out of his mind. His body would heal itself like it had through the centuries. The last thing I heard before my back splashed into the boiling waters of Styx was Og Thor’s high pitched cackle, a subtle reminder that the next time we meet; I must employ, to ensure victory, the help of the only warrior I know capable of enduring such a battle. Be prepared, Og Thor, to endure the wrath of Dex, the Dutch Lord of Form Fitting Button Downs!
by Idaho Chubbs
