Goats
Written 54-L22 [2023-06-15], Edited 54-L22 [2023-06-15]
Image credit: Twitter Twemoji
Ronaldo threw his axe carefully. He wasn’t rough with it, he didn’t exert himself too much. His body was as quick and precise as a cobra: one second he was standing, the next second his axe blade was buried in its distant target.
“Yeah Ronaldo!” said his hairy friend Harry. “Ladies and gents, this man is the greatest of all time, the GOAT, he could throw an axe across the ocean and make it land in Timbuktu, he’s phenomenal!”
“I would not be so sure about that,” said one of the many acquaintances of Ronaldo at the party. Ronaldo had invited almost everyone he knew to the axe throwing venue, even his barber. Only about fifty of the people invited showed up. Ten of the fifty were afraid of signing the entry waiver which granted the axe throwing company immunity from prosecution. One of the people who remained was Ronaldo’s cousin’s cousin’s uncle’s ex-wife’s butcher, who was named Oswald.
“Watch this,” said Oswald, and he perfectly imitated Ronaldo’s achievement, hitting his target after single axe throw which took only a single second. Nobody had a ruler or protractor with them, but if they had such tools they would have realized Oswald’s axe hit its target at the exact position and angle as Ronaldo’s.
“Ohhhh amazing!” said Harry. “Looks like there’s two GOATs in the house.”
“What does that even mean?” asked Ronaldo, “Two greatest of all times?”
“Yes, in-cred-i-ble!” shouted Harry, who was hoping someone was recording this moment for TikTok.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Oswald. “There can only be one.” And then he started throwing axes in every direction, hitting everyone present.
The axe-throwing company’s cashier was safely behind desk during the onslaught. But once Oswald’s supply was exhausted, the cashier jumped out of his hiding place and hit Oswald with volley after volley of tomahawks.
“You can’t do this to me,” croaked the terminally bleeding Oswald. “I’m the GOAT. And what will the police think.”
“What can I say? You signed the waiver,” said the cashier.
Feedback from the Joy of Writing Group
- those waivers are scary, and real
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