The Grammer Games declares a truce
LET PEACE REIGN OR PIECES RAIN, Chapter 8
(with apologies to Todd Hannula 🤓)
[Somewhere in England, Day 4]
All eyes were on the colosseum floor where Gutbloom’s boots stood next to a broken piñata, lying in pool of red hots. The crowd wanted more. They were literally screaming for the Head of Alfredo Garcia.
Into the stadium pranced chef Gordon Ramsey with a huge tray of fettuccini Alfredo, but the crowd booed. He screamed back “you’re getting your knickers in a twist! Calm…”
Happily, the grill used to cook the giant hamburger that had crushed Ellie Guzman, fell from the sky and crushed the angry Scottsman. The crowd laughed briefly, then continued to protest the loss of Gutbloom.
Next up, Danny “Machete” Trejo mounted the champion’s platform, dressed in leather biker gear and thrust his hand skyward, presenting the head of Jerry Garcia to the multitudes in the arena.
The crowd booed and he too was crushed, this time by a monster truck blasting tunes by the Grateful Dead.
Finally, after a eating a gluten free brownie for breakfast, the mighty Todd Hannula strode forward toward the Emperor’s box, ignoring the murderous hail of rubber bands, paper clips and balled up post-it notes being exchanged on the field of battle. Cueing the orchestra pit, the clarion call of the horn section brought the crowd and competitors to attention. Todd grabbed the stage and began to speechify from a specially prepared scroll:
“Truces…”
I wish it were easy. But, we can’t call for a truce. We can ask. But, I don’t think we need one. Yes, our feeds are being filled with stories of men behaving very badly, even wickedly. This is not because Kel Campbell and others are busy writing about it. It’s because so many men are behaving badly. Is this most men? No. Is it too many? Yes.
We’re all better off when women (and sometimes men) are encouraged to and do speak out about the subtle, the outrageous, and even the subliminal ways in which men make their lives uncomfortable, seriously difficult, and sometimes unfathomably horrific.
Let’s not call for a truce, but rather — let’s keep supporting these writers, sharing the lessons we learn with our friends and family. If I get exhausted…
Suddenly, the sky turned white as the stadium filled with mini marshmallows. The crowd turned their faces upward to capture the tiny treats with their tongues. Todd stopped speaking as well and just as he was about to catch one of the white puffs of deliciousness, a giant marshmallow descended with incredible speed, crushing him beneath.
In between munches, the voice of James Earl Jones boomed down from the heavens:
“Truces? Who dares to call truce at the Grammar Games?”
But the people revolted against the forces that be. The proceeded to eat away at the giant marshmallow until they could recover the fallen form of Todd. With a shower of green hearts, an IV drip was administered that contained the glowing green liquid of distilled recommends from the greatest authors in the land. The IV worked! Todd was miraculously brought back to life!
While all eyes were on the arena floor, a commotion was occurring up in luxury box W on T level in section F. Several men from a Clodius gang raided the box and descended upon the party. It was not clear but it appeared that Timothy J. O’Neill was pushed to the floor while Niya Marie rans out the side exit. Jason Smith lunged at one of the masked collegia, who brandished daggers. Jason tackled the man and spilled over the ledge — luckily, the gangster broke his fall.
At this point, most of the crowd was aware of the scuffle — ooh-ing and ahh-ing at every punch, every kick. Suddenly, a small explosion occurred filling the box with smoke. More fighting ensued.
Just as the smoke was clearing, Kel Campbell was dragged from the field of battle and forced to exit the luxury suite — motioned through a door being held open by one of the Clodius henchmen. And just like that, Kel disappeared into the corridor.
The crowd froze in horror as a heroic voice was silenced, not on the field of battle, but by the hordes of masked vulgarians who stormed the field and took control of the Emperor’s box.
(To be continued. Who will take up the clarion call next? Jon, accept the challenge while you still have a chance to fight back!)
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