It’s On MAG

By John Horvath, So. Plainfield, NJ

He was standing in the doorway like he owned the place. There was a look of smug satisfaction on his face. I looked back at him and knew it was on.

If anything had ever been on before, I wouldn’t have known because I’m not too good with history. It was so on that nothing has ever been so on since that time. The radio was on, the fan was on, even the TV was on, but everything seemed silent. Things were so on that Western music instantly began playing in the background.

The dog ran and hid under the table from the impending fear of what was about to go on. She knew – she knew it was on.

I looked dead straight into his eyes. I enjoyed that he seemed nervous, like a wild turkey walking into a festive house on Thanksgiving. But I was nervous too. My heart was running a marathon inside my chest. My legs became like loaves of bread and I felt like they wouldn’t support my weight. A bead of sweat slid down my forehead to my nose. The room was so silent and so tense that I could have sworn that the drop sounded like broken glass when it hit the floor.

The dog began to whimper because of the intensity of the moment. I wanted to look and see if she was okay, but it was on and I knew I shouldn’t, but I did. I quickly glanced over just long enough to see her paralyzed under the table. She was like a statue – a statue of a coward. I’m no coward, I thought as I quickly darted my gaze back to my opponent.

He was in the same position. His hand began to shake as it neared his weapon. If we weren’t inside, the sun would have been beating down on us; but that Luxo lamp was pretty hot too. It was high noon.

My knuckles turned white with desire as I got ready. All of a sudden I felt like I could do anything; perhaps that was the adrenaline. I wiped my forehead and squinted. That Western tune played and we knew it was time once we heard the whip slap. He kept a steady gaze and spit out the side of his mouth toward the garbage can and gritted his teeth at me.

We drew at the same time and shot as well as we could. He drew paper. I drew scissors. The cookie was mine.

It was delicious.

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This article has 2 comments.

on Oct. 6 2008 at 9:36 pm
that is hilarious! had a feeling something like that would happen. good freakin job. you just cheered me up for today

Letticia said...
on Sep. 20 2008 at 4:01 pm
HaHa, this is funny, I love it!


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