Shanks for Nothing by Rick Reilly

Shanks for Nothing by Rick Reilly

Author:Rick Reilly
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780385518567
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2006-05-02T00:00:00+00:00


The next morning, Two and Cementhead knocked on Mr. Dot-Com’s twenty-foot-high gold-trimmed double front doors at 8:00 A.M. Also at 9:00 A.M. And 10:00 A.M. Finally at noon, a six-foot-four, 2-iron-thin, cigar-stenched goof flung the door open in Hooters boxers and glasses akimbo, looking like he’d slept in a dumpster.

“What in Christ do you want?” he growled. “’Cause if it’s magazines or candy bars or God, I’m gonna have to scab you up!”

That tied Two and Cement’s tongues for a second.

“Thought so!” said Dot-Com, slamming the door. Or he started to, until Two got his knee in the way. It made a sickening soft thud. As he rubbed it and tried to keep from tearing up, he squeaked, “We want to help you get even with the Mayflower.”

Dot-Com squinted harder at them.

“So?”

“If you let us come in and get a bag of ice, we’ll tell you,” he said.

“You got thirty seconds and I’m so slamming this door.”

“Okay,” Two Down started, trying not to think about the pain. “Do you know the crappy muni course that’s right across the hedge from the Mayflower?”

“Fifteen.”

Two started talking very fast. “Crappy course? You can see it from the road as you drive in?”

“Ten. That’s a golf course? Shit, I always thought it was a motocross track!”

“That’s why this idea is so good,” Two Down said.

Dot-Com’s eyes opened and so did the door.

Two Down explained it all to him, what a great buy it was, how he could sink a few million into it and make it better than the Mayflower, how he could torment the Mayflower snobs to his heart’s content, how he could keep it public, just to piss off the Mayflower even more, how anytime he or his friends came, they could march right to the first tee, no questions asked.

Dot-Com was practically in Two Down’s lap by the time he finished.

“Fantastic!” he yelped. “I’m in! I’m your boy!”

The two Chops could hardly believe their ears. “Seriously?!”

“Absolutely! This is the greatest idea since tits! Whatever they’ve bid, I’ll double it! I’ll show those wrinkle-dicks! They’ll wish they’d never fucked with me!”

“Wow!” Cement said. “Great! Cool!”

“And we’ll have nineteen holes!” he said. “The first hole won’t count ’cause everybody sucks on the first hole! And if you’re not finished in three and a half hours, I send my Dobermans out for your ass! And one hole will be just a funnel green so you always make an ace on it. That way, first-time dumbshits will have to buy drinks! We’ll drink free every day!”

“Perfect!” Cement said.

“And hell yeah it’ll be public!” he said. “’Course, we can’t let no fucking women play, except strippers and hookers. And no Jews. And no spics, acourse. No niggers, naturally. And no damn towel-heads. Or Gunga-Dins. And, and—hey, where you fellas goin’? Fellas? Fellas!”



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