My Life as Invisible Intestines with Intense Indigestion by Bill Myers

Author:Bill Myers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Oaff!”

and tackled

“Oaff! Oaff!”

a lot

“Oaff! Oaff! Oaff!”

“Wally,” Opera whispered to me from the sidelines, “you’ve got to do something. They’re killing Jerry. Without Neil Anderthol to block for him, he has no protection.”

I looked out to the field. At the moment, five or six players were climbing off Jerry. At least I thought it was Jerry . . . it was hard to see over the rim of the big Jerry-shaped crater they’d just left in the field.

I knew it would be cheating again, but the guy definitely needed my help. Besides, wasn’t I the one who’d gotten Bruiser Boy expelled in the first place?

So, reluctantly, I headed out onto the field.

“Ready,” Jerry yelled. The team got into position. “Set . . . Hike!”

The ball was snapped to Jerry, and he headed back to make a pass. It would have been a good play except for the four body crushers breaking through the line and heading straight for him. He cocked his arm, trying to throw the ball, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to make it. So, utilizing my mighty McDoogle mind (a scary process in the best of times), I leaped up, grabbed the ball out of his hand, and started running with it.

I knew it wasn’t my brightest move . . . especially when the entire stadium gasped in astonishment (something about footballs floating across the field by themselves can look kinda odd). So, spotting the closest player to me, I figured I’d slip it into his hands. A good idea, except for the part in which he was so freaked out seeing the ball floating toward him that he screamed, turned, and ran for his life.

“Wait,” I shouted, racing after him. “Take this with you, take this with you!”

By now everyone on both teams had stopped and was staring. Well, everyone but the guy I was trying to give the ball to. He just kept on running down the field screaming his head off, and I just kept on chasing after him shouting, “Take this with you, take this with you!”

But there was no reasoning with him. He just kept running and screaming and looking over his shoulder until he entered the end zone and

K-THUD!

slammed into the goal post head-first.

The big guy didn’t fall right away. He sort of stagger, stagger, staggered to the left, then stagger, stagger, staggered to the right. This almost gave me enough time to catch up to him before he fell face-first into the mud . . . almost. But that didn’t stop me. No sir, I didn’t run all that way wheezing my lungs out for nothing. Instead of giving up, I brought the ball to a stop, hovered over him a second, then bent down and stuffed it into the back of his pants.

Everyone on the field watched in stunned silence. Come to think of it, so did everyone in the stands. Then finally, after a couple of lifetimes, one of the refs slowly raised his hands and halfheartedly tweeted his whistle.

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