Three and Out

By C.G. Banks

Let author C.G. Banks take you in his skeletal hand and lead you off into the darkness where an infamous hurricane, three seemingly innocuous photos, and a demonic professor lay in wait to claim you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.G. Banks
• Release date: Jul 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310145773

C.G. Banks

C. G. Banks is the pseudonym of some other guy. These are the kind of stories I like. Hope you like em too. Thanks.

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Three and Out

Published by C. G. Banks at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by C. G. Banks

All rights reserved. This includes the right to reproduce any portion of this book in any form.

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Chapter One: The Vulture

Lance Aimes sat rigid as a coon’s dick halfway down the long table. The PTO and football backer’s club had bannered the Holiday Inn reception hall with all the gusto crepe paper and poster board allowed, and that jackass, Coach Phillips, was doing his best to Lombardi the crowd. Mostly he was saying what everybody already knew: the season was done, albeit at 10 wins and 2 losses it was the best showing in 20 years, and even though these boys weren’t able to take it quite All The Way, they were still the best goshdarn bunch a young men this Marine’s had the Great Honor to coach, and blah, blah, blah.

As far as Lance was concerned football was a game for morons and mental defectives. In fact, he had initially played only to impress Pop. Who was dead. Tucked in right next to Lance’s mother in Everview Gardens a ten minute ride down Buckley Road. But being here tonight was about the last thing he’d ever be able to do for the old man and that said, so be it.

Meanwhile Phillips blustered on, switching gears now as was evident by his raised forefinger, the fine sheen of sweat glistening on his upper lip. But before we run off to dinner, folks, he was saying (Lance imagining him having done this whole shebang in front of the mirror before leaving his house), I would like to present the Captain’s Award. He stopped, pursed his lips, pointed to the ceiling as if he and God were in cahoots on this one. As you know this annually goes to the Team Player (and you could see the capitals billowing through the air as he spoke them) who regularly and consistently (panning the room with the same forefinger like some adamant backwoods preacher) leads by example. He paused, glaring across the silent bank of faces, daring anyone to drop the secret before he so willed it. Lance felt his hackles rise. This year, and he steepled his fingers together in studied patience, the award has Extra significance because of the trials and tribulations this exemplary young man has gone through. Here he paused and offered up a wicked, knowing grin. That, he said going into his roll, "and the perfectly awesome 83-yard run that took us