Principal Harold Steele stood behind the podium in Lecture Center 1B and looked down at the boys in the seats in front of them. They all wore their letterman jackets with pride, and their coach stood behind them, glaring at the principal with his arms crossed.
“This had better be good, Steele,” he growled, trying to stare down the principal as if he could make him melt into a puddle with the force of his anger alone.
“Oh, it is good, Torkelson, I assure you,” Steele replied, perfectly at ease in his suit and tie. A cool smile played across his lips, and the coach had a minor flutter of apprehension in his chest.
‘What the hell is his game,’ Torkelson wondered, ‘and how the hell does he think he has any cards to play? We’re the best chance this school ever had to win the championship. And he can’t possibly have any proof about us and the Vincent kid. The little fag didn’t see anyone’s face.’
“Gentlemen,” Steele said, the smile widening slightly, “and I used the term loosely, I know you’re responsible for what happened to Mindy Vincent, the TG student who started attending school as herself last week. I’ve suspected you’ve been behind the recent violent attacks against members of the school community who are gay, lesbian, or transgendered, but until last week, I had no way to prove it. Now I do, and I’m here to tell you that the attacks stop now.”
“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” the coach said, his arms folded across his chest.
“Oh?” Steele held up a remote in his hand. “Let me refresh your memory.”
From the speakers around the perimeter of the room, the coach’s voice rang out.
“Another of those girly boy queers has ‘come out,’ boys.” The sneer in his voice made his hatred plain. “I think it’s time for another lesson in how real men deal with faggots who don’t know how to stay in the shadows. You still got the hockey masks, Jimmy?”
“Yes, coach.” Jimmy Lynch squirmed in the audience, hearing the satisfied tone in his own voice. “And Joey’s bringing the baseball bats from the community center.”
“I got some hockey sticks from the peewee league, too, coach.” Pete Cooper said proudly. “And Freddie’s ‘borrowing’ the lacrosse sticks from Central’s outside storage.”
“Good. Since none of that gear belongs to us, they can’t trace anything back to us. We should dig up a tennis racquet or somethin’ for him to defend himself with, don’t you think? Gotta be be sportsmanlike, after all.”
Everyone laughed, and started talking among themselves. All of the team incriminated themselves on the tape in different ways, and the boys sitting there realized that jail time waited in their future.
Steele pressed a button on the remote again, and the room went silent.
“You can’t use that, Steele,” Torkelson shouted. “Recording somebody without them knowing about it is illegal. They’d throw it out of court.”
“Absolutely,” the principal replied, “if I had recorded you all without a warrant. Fortunately, I’m not that stupid. Judge Newman is a good friend of mine, and when I explained that I thought you were responsible for the recent attacks, he was more than happy to provide official sanction for my bugging the locker room.”
His voice grew cold. “I only wish I would have heard that recording in time to stop you. But you won’t be doing it to anyone else. Not anymore. Not on my watch.”
The coach was stunned. He looked over his shoulder, wondering where the cops were.
“Oh, no, coach,” Steele said, his voice hard and empty. “No police here. I have to admit that having you arrested was my first thought. But putting you all in jail wouldn’t solve my ongoing problems with the harassment my LGBT students are receiving. After all, your team is just a reflection of the attitudes of the town. If I put you down, others would come along and take your place.”
He took a deep breath. “No, I have another goal in mind. I’m going to offer you a choice. You’re all going to help me bring this town into the twenty-first century. Or face the consequences of your actions.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s simple. I want you to act as examples to the community. Your players — all of them — are going to embrace diversity and inclusiveness. You’re going to publicly befriend every gay, lesbian, transgendered and bisexual student in this school and keep them all from being harmed. You’re going to make damned sure everyone in Gregson knows how supportive you all are — yourself included, coach. I think that will go a long way towards helping the rest of the town be a little more inclusive, don’t you think?”
“And if we don’t?”
“Well, if you don’t agree to my proposal, I’ll send you all to jail, of course.” Steele pursed his lips. “And, of course, if you pretend to agree and then break our agreement, or tell anyone what’s really going on, you'll all go to jail and be branded as hypocrites. Part of me thinks jail would be a good way for you all to broaden your horizons, see what it feels like to be a victim. After all, some of you boys are pretty enough to do real well there, one you’ve ... settled in.”
The team all shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, and Steele smiled.
“Still, I’d rather hold jail as a last resort.”
The coach’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like you, Torkelson. Any of you.” The principal’s voice dripped scorn. “I want to make you all suffer the way you’ve made others suffer. Besides, there are so many other things I could do that would make your lives way more interesting — besides actually turning you over to the police, I mean.”
“Like what?”
“For example, if you break our agreement, I could just ... well, out your entire team.”
“WHAT?” The coach’s eyes bugged out, and half the team stood up, shouting. Steele waited until they quieted down, and picked up a second remote.
“Do you remember when the attacks started? We held diversity training sessions for everyone in the school, but when we came to the football team, we added a little extra something, just in case my suspicions about you all were right.”
He pressed play. The screen lit up behind him and a video came on.
“It takes a lot of courage to come out to your parents and other students,” an offscreen voice said, as Jimmy Lynch fidgeted uncomfortably in front of the camera. “Try to put yourself in the place of a gay student in that position. What would you say to your parents if you wanted to tell them the truth about yourself?”
“Are you kidding?” The onscreen Jimmy shook his head, and seemed to look right at the camera. “My Dad would kill me if I told him I was gay.”
“What if you felt you had to,” the voice persisted gently. “Think about it. Suppose you didn’t want to live the lie anymore? What do you think you’d say?”
The football player said nothing, and the voice sighed, “Jimmy, you’re not going to be able to play ball if you don’t complete this class.”
Jimmy looked down for a second, thinking hard, then looked back up into the camera.
“Dad, I know you ain’t gonna like it, but I’m ... I’m gay. I like guys. It doesn’t mean I’m any different from the son you always knew, but I hope you understand that this is who I am, and ... and ... shit! Forget it, man. This ain’t gonna happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I was stupid enough to tell him I’m gay, he’d kill me!”
“Please,” the voice insisted, “try again.”
“No!” Jimmy stood up quickly, knocking the chair down behind him. “I’m done. No more.”
The onscreen Jimmy walked out of camera range, and Steele pressed the stop button. Jimmy kept staring at the screen.
“The camera was hidden, of course,” the principal said, “and each of you had your time in front of it.”
“So?” The coach said. “It’s all ‘what ifs!’ There’s nothing incriminating about it.”
“Except that no other students were asked these questions as part of the diversity program, and there were never any video cameras in the room during any of the other classes.” Steele looked down at Jimmy. “As for ‘what ifs’ ... let me show you what some judicious editing can accomplish.”
He pushed a few more buttons, then pressed PLAY again.
“It takes a lot of courage to come out to your parents and other students,” an offscreen voice said, as Jimmy Lynch fidgeted uncomfortably in front of the camera. “I know it’s going to be hard for you, too. What will you say to your parents when you tell them the truth about yourself?”
“Are you kidding?” The onscreen Jimmy shook his head, and seemed to look right at the camera. “My Dad would kill me if I told him I was gay.”
“We both know you want to,” the voice persisted gently. “Think about it. I know you don’t want to live the lie anymore. What do you think you’ll say?”
The football player said nothing, and the voice sighed, “Jimmy, you came to me to help you make this video. Please ... give it a try.”
Jimmy looked down for a second, thinking hard, then looked back up into the camera.
“Dad, I know you ain’t gonna like it, but I’m ... I’m gay. I like ... I like guys. It doesn’t mean I’m any different from the son you always knew ... but I hope you understand that this is who I am, and ... and ... shit! Forget it, man. This ain’t gonna happen.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I was stupid enough to tell him I’m gay, he’d kill me! And I ain’t that stupid!”
“Please,” the voice insisted, “you’re so close to telling him the truth.”
“No!” Jimmy stood up quickly, knocking the chair down behind him. “I’m done. This bites.”
The onscreen Jimmy walked away, and Steele pressed the stop button again.
“All of you made videos, just like that,” he said softly. “Oh, some variations, like telling your buddies instead of your parents, or letting your Mom know you always felt like a girl trapped in a boy’s body. Enough variation to be an authentic spread for a group your size, but all of you confessing on cameras that you were secretly ... not what you appeared to be.”
He put down the remote and picked up a folder.
“This is the PR campaign I paid for. We’ll release the videos with bios of all of you, and how you finally had the courage to come out as a team. Myself and Guidance Counselor Cooper will do a press conference announcing how you all wanted to come out together, and how we helped you make the videos so it would be easier for you to avoid telling your friends and family in person. The PR firm thinks the story could go national. Once it’s out, it will spread, and no one in the media will check with you first when it could mean they’re the last to get the story out. Once it’s done, you can deny it all you want. But we’ll swear this whole thing was your idea, and the videos will back us up.”
“But that’s not all. I know some of you have scouts watching you, and you might have the chance for college scholarships ... maybe even to play pro ball someday. It’s going to be awfully hard to get into the NFL if everyone thinks you’re gay or transgendered ... and if you cross me, I’m going to make damned sure that for the rest of the season, nobody will be able to forget it.”
He reached down and held up a paper.
“This, gentleman, is copy of a letter from the school board. It holds every member’s signature, and gives me the right to arbitrarily change the names of the school’s football team whenever I like.” He put the paper down and picked up a second one. “This is a copy of another letter from the school board, again signed by everyone, authorizing me to change the official school colors, and there’s also a third giving me budget to change all the uniforms and signage on my say-so.”
Steele put down the second paper, and smiled.
“So once you’re officially outed, the name of your football team will instantly become the Gregson Gay Pride. Your uniform colors will be fuchsia and lavender, and the school sports bus will be repainted in those colors with a new rainbow logo to match.” He grinned. “I like the new team motto: GO GAY!!!”
He clicked the remote, and a picture of the new uniform and a mock-up of the sports bus appeared on the big screen behind him. The players stared up at the principal with shock, and he looked back at them impassively.
“You will play every game wearing those uniforms, and every team in the division will take every opportunity to ridicule and abuse you, on and off the field. Oh, by the way, we’ll be replacing those jackets you’re wearing, too, just so everyone you meet will see you’re out and proud.” He pressed a button, turning off the projector, then put down the remote.
“The best part of this option is that, if you do try to deny it and someone eventually believes you, I can still send you all to jail. And no one there will think too hard about whether any member of the Gregson Gay Pride is really gay or not. They’re all practical men. They’ll ... see for themselves, won’t they?”
He smiled again, but the smile never reached his eyes.
“So, that’s your choice,” Steele said. “Stand up and support diversity, or be arrested. Protect those you attacked or be outed yourselves, and wear the proud lavender and fuchsia of Gregson’s first openly gay football team. Your coach will bring me your decision before homeroom tomorrow. Of course, if your answer to my proposal is no, this conversation never took place, the locker room tapes go to the police, and you should all be in jail by lunchtime.”
“That’s blackmail!” The coach roared.
Steele looked over at him with contempt. “Yes, Mr. Torkelson, it is. I bow to your recognition of the obvious ... and hopefully of the inevitable.”
“Of course, if you try to implicate me, the DA will insist he had the evidence for a while, and was just looking for the right way to charge you all as adults and make sure the charges stick.”
The principal picked up his papers and looked over at the team and its coach.
“By the way, if you are thinking about killing me, which I’m sure is how your minds work, you should know that this entire conversation has been recorded, and will go with the sealed recordings from the locker room directly to the DA in the event of my death. He will edit out any mention of his own involvement, of course. But since I’ll be dead at that point, I won’t be worrying about prosecution, after all.”
Torkelson stood in the center of the team, his fists clenched and arms trembling. “You’re playing a dangerous game here, Steele.”
“Am I? I don’t think so. But even if I am, what of it? As you’re so fond of saying, Coach ... no risk, no reward.” The principal held Torkelson’s eyes. “What you don’t understand is that you’re playing my game, and no matter which game plan you choose tomorrow morning, you’ve already lost. And I already know which option I'm rooting for.”
He looked back at the team, and he grinned.
“Go, GAY!” he said, and walked out the door to pick up his niece Mindy from the hospital.
Comments
This was made into a movie...TRUDY
Three cheers for old Gregson High!...you date the trannie, I'll date the guy! We're inclusive, we're diverse...I hope that they don't think that I'm perverse! This discipline keeps us on our toes...soon we'll be wearin' taupe pantyhose. Don't screw up for goodness sake...or I'll be bunkin' with some con named Jake!!! Go Gay!!!!
Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
You were a wanna-be cheerleader, wern't you, 'Drea?
Oh the PAIN!
-- snicker --
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. TRUDY=RUDY.... Aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaah!
John in Wauwatosa
Excellent as always, Randalynn
A Hobson's Choice for the bastard football team. More than they deserve but the Principal needed cannon fodder for the upcoming *war* to change the hearts and minds of his intolerant community. If some of them get hurt, so be it. It's nothing worse than what might happen in prison and maybe they might just redeem themselves.
Very much the end third of the tale. IE the attack and their sick planning for it plus the aftermath of her attack and hospitalization are all seen or eluded to in film and audio clips, a kind of flash back.
But the story is perhaps all the more intense by it being condensed down to the core of it. I wonder, Randlynn's Condensed Soup, um Stories. Umm umm goodTM. Or should that be TG?
And most of all it proves the theory that dumb jock ARE dumb. Didn't they know the victim was the Principal's niece?
Too many concussions or Gaydarade poisoning I guess.
-- GRIN --
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. If you have finished hurling over that last horrid gag of mine, what story or stories inspired this? Or was it a real life story as inspiration?
John in Wauwatosa
I sort of came up with this one ...
... driving back from NY after my husband's father's funeral. It was half inspired by a quote from Niven and Pournelle, "Trouble rather the tiger in his lair than the sage amongst his books. For to you kingdoms and armies are things mighty and enduring, but to him they are but toys of the moment, to be overturned by the flicking of a finger ..." The other half of the inspiration came from Craig Ferguson's cold open for his Doctor Who episode, where he wrote lyrics to the Doctor Who theme that defined the appeal of the series as "the triumph of romance and intellect over brute force and cynicism."
I believe an intelligent motivated person can beat a shortsighted brute every time, and I wanted Principal Steele to trap Coach Torkleson and the team in a maze from which no path offers escape. The very best they can hope for is jail. If they're smart, they'll surrender to the police in the morning. *grin* But we all know they're stupid, so it's a roll of the dice where it all ends up.
Thanks, John, for reading and commenting!
Randalynn
Craig Ferguson?
As in the late jokster with his "talk" show? Dr. Who certainly has gone downhill since David Tennant left!
* * *
"Girls are like pianos, when they're not upright they're grand!" Benny Hill
Karen J.
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
But he IS Scotish!
If the series had moved to America it would have been Letterman.
Gah!
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. Randalynn, please say it ain't so? Craig Ferguson! But then they did have the guy from Buffy the Vampire Slayer a few years back.
John in Wauwatosa
And not a few of us on this side of the Pond…
There are quite a few of us in America of Scottish descent who would appreciate it if you didn't let that get around too much!
The Rev. Anam Chara+
Anam Chara
Craig
Watching him now as I am posting this. He may be a lowlander but I still find him to be funny. American of Scot's decent via Nova Scotia (MacKinnon of Clan MacKinnon.)
Good Story.
dear
Randalynn, superb story so far, can't wait to read the rest of it
Um... what the hell is up
Um... what the hell is up with american prisons and rape? I know the US has the most prisoners per inhabitant of the world, but why can't they keep them from raping each other?
Great Story Randalynn, I totally liked how these intollerant bastards have to do service for the LGBT community.
thank you for writing,
Beyogi
Not enough guards - like 3
Not enough guards - like 3 per prisoner?
Rape is a problem in prisons in just about any country, unless you put everyone in solitary.
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
I do not believe it is a problem
In Australia. I am sure it happens but not often enough that it is something to fear.
It boils down to a few,
It boils down to a few, rather blunt, reasons.
1) A bunch of violent, oversexed males - even the white collar criminals are often oversexed (powerhungry).
2) No females around
3) A need to show dominance.
Sometimes, you end up with 4
4) A need to punish someone.
So, you usually end up with someone being the 'bottom' for a lot of other people. I'm certain it happens about the same way in _any_ prisons. It's just that it's become a stereotype in America. "Hey, Bubba's going to be telling you 'You're my little puppy now!'"
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
Sure... maybe they should be
Sure... maybe they should be more careful who they put in the cells with whom. They can still jack off... You can also show dominance otherwise.
The only reason it happens so often is that it is tolerated. Rape as an extra-punishment of sorts. And they wonder why people come out of prison more criminal than they go in.
In the case of the boys they'd go into juvenile prison. IIRC something I read some time ago, the majority of sexual abusers (forced envelopment is no rape after all ^^) in juvenile prisons are the female wardens. So not oversexed machos with a dominance streak a mile high, but females that can get away with it.
It's tolerated because you
It's tolerated because you can't stop it. They'd have to have one warden/guard _per cell_ to try to manage it, and we already pay too damned much for the prisons. (I'm one of the ones all for 'no air conditioning, no TV, no internet, and yes, heavy labor'. )
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
I've heard social programs
I've heard social programs are a more efficient way to reduce the prison population than draconic sentences.
Yes and no. It depends on if
Yes and no. It depends on if the social programs are actually oriented towards fixing a problem, or a feel good solution. Almost everything is a feel good program, because admitting there is a problem in (for example) lower income black communities becomes racism.
Personally, if the shoe fits, wear it. If you can identify a problem area by geographic and demographic lines, _use it_. Racial profiling my ass.
The other problem is that by age 14 or so, most problems are _locked_. You can address the earlier generation - if you can get to them. You can't fix the later generation.
I hate to say it outright, but to be blunt, most crimes are caused by repeat offenders. Kill the criminal, preferably while committing the crime, and there is no more repeat offender.
"We" (with parts of Europe being worse than most of America) keep trying to find reasons for a criminal to act like they do, and promptly turn around and accuse the person defending himself of _being_ a criminal. Quit mollycoddling, quit finding excuses, and just admit it. Some people are just _bad_.
Here's the flip side. A lot of, if not most of, our criminal laws are just plain -stupid-. Personal responsiblity needs to be the main thing. IF someone wants to have fifteen pot plants in his back yard, and spend most of his time stoned, that's between him, his landlord, and his employer. If he gets involved in a crime while high - hey, we have DUI laws for a reason. (Driving Under the Influence. Replaced Driving While Intoxicated, so as to cover other chemicals than alcohol) Don't interfere until his behaviour affects someone else.
Heck - make it so that if you are convicted of a crime while under the influence of a foreign substance, it's immediately classified as premediated. You got drunk, you got in the car, you killed someone. You committed premeditated murder. Period. Nobody forced you behind the wheel, even if someone did do a "Be a man, take a drink!" peer pressure on you.
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
poor
dear Mindy, i am very sorry she got hurt but am so glad she survived, no one deserves abuse
The Ultimate Gotcha
Thanks for this. It's very satifying.
And kudos too of course.
- Terry
"Go Gay!"
I find myself conflicted. Part of me feels they would deserve the outcome if they chose to fight the principal. On the other hand, it might be too much - the rejection, the mental and physical abuse ... I don't know if I could sentence a human being to suffer that.
Dorothycolleen
I Feel Very Strongly Both Ways
Yes, the football team and coach(es?) are going to have to knuckle under to the principal's plan. Unfortunately, they will still be biggoted jerks when they leave the school. Nope, it's all wrong. The guilty must figuratively swing from the yardarm. No deals, no nothing. The team is disbanded publically, and they forfeit all games. The coach should get the harshest sentence of all. The other participants should be dealt with just as harshly. Covering this up with the blackmail scheme, as fitting as it seems at first is the wrong way to go. The long term result will be failure. Yes the school will be identified as being pro LGBT, however, there will still be 40 some odd biggots just waiting for their revenge. Off with their heads (figuratively speaking)!
Portia
Portia
You are neglecting to
You are neglecting to consider the position that ego and face have for the average troglodytic athetic type. Loss of face, or perhaps 'personal honor' is extremely destructive.
1) Their ego will not allow them to admit to it publicly. They'll end up in jail, and that puts paid to their future aspirations.
2) They might consider revenge later, but if they get caught, their reputation (what there might be of it) will be absolutely destroyed. Either they are proven to be nothing but violent, bigoted animals, or they are exposed as hypocritical, violent animals, hiding behind a facade of respectability and acceptance.
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
Thank you,Randalynn
ALISON
'for a great story,so well thought out and well written.The Coach and his ilk have got what
they deserved,no more,no less.Personally,I would like to see them all jailed.
ALISON
Hit them where they live.
The only thing that needs to happen for evil to win is for good people to do nothing. This good person did something right and is giving the poor miss guided
cretins a dose of there own medicine. The coach is the center and the sick pup that needs to be put in his place hard. The kids are just following a leader who is corrupting there minds with stupidity and hate. These young men can find out by just talking to and being forced to behave that there victims are people just like them selves.
The only bad question is the one not asked.
The only bad question is the one not asked.
I thought
I thought that "Go Pride!" would make a more inspiring team cheer, but then inspiration isn't really the point, is it? Thanks for another heartwarming tale.
Jaye
You've Got Alpha Male
The football coach was only trying to build a little team unity through organized hate. His actions would result in him being named coach of the year in most conferences. Many youth sports fans would say his only crime was getting caught. A good attorney and he'd get off with community service. If the program had a stellar won/loss record the boys would be chastised "sternly" but not in any way that would result in them losing any games.
40% of the players in the NBA have a police record . . . many for domestic violence.
While I applaude the sentiment of this story, I bow to the adverse reality.
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
A New Game Plan
The principal is as evil as those who attacked his niece Mindy. His blackmail can hurt others in unknown ways.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Please explain how the principal is evil...
...no matter which way these guys choose, they receive, as it says somewhere, due recompense for their actions. The worst that can happen to them is if they stay stuck in their ignorance and obtuse hatred, and are foolish enough to take the jail time. The first option merely requires them to pretend that they are human, even as they have demonstrated they are not. This is known in the therapeutic community as practicing "AS IF," behaving in the manner to which they choose to change, hoping that it will "catch on" as they practice it. To require them merely to befriend and defend the friendless and defenseless sounds almost...Biblical?"
Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
Please Read
Unintended Consequences; a sequel to the story and find out.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Not the same story, Stan
Unintended Consequencess is Dorothy's idea of what might happen in an alternate universe, and is not a true continuation of my story. *grin* What happens next in my story will be posted in the next day or two, so stay tuned. *grin*
Randalynn
Thanks, Randalynn
I guess that I need to read a bit better.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
WOW! You inspired two follow-ups!
Dorothy's sad, worst case senario ending and Lakia's over the top, funny burlesque/comic ending.
Curious to see yours.
So nice to see the varing what ifs?
John in Wauwatosa
P.S. Lift your other foot up, fall on your ass
Get back up, put your teeth in the glass.
P.P.S. Hey, we needed some levity after all the drama.
-- grin --
George Harison, from Wilbury Twist. A very funny song. Though my favorite Traveling Wilbury tune is Handle me With Care. 42 seconds into the vidio -- can be seen on Youtube -- it trancends from a good song by one of the first "super groups" into something very special.
John in Wauwatosa
Others Are Wondering
Whether Principal Steele's ploys will stand up. I think they will. Firstly, he has confessions on record which are sanctioned by a judge. Whether those would result in criminal convictions is beside the point. They would at least get an airing in court and the world would know that the team committed brutal assaults at the urging of the coach.
I cannot imagine that there would be no backlash if that happened.
I think a likely outcome would be some of the team turning "state's evidence" whether out of shame or for self-preservation, so convictions would then almost certainly result and the coach would be hung out to dry (and good riddance).
The other options are purely psychological pressure and come into play if the criminals don't wish to face the ultimate penalty. However, I can imagine the psychopath of a coach preferring to go to jail rather than submit to humiliation. The boys might well have other ideas.
I think you've set a lovely conundrum here Randalynn and their pathetic balls are going to be squeezed whatever they do.
As the much-maligned Richard Nixon said "If you have them by the balls their hearts and minds will follow".
Joanne
P.S. Does anyone here think the killing of Osama Bin Laden was WRONG, even if its strict legality might have been questionable?
Giggle, giggle...Randalynn does it again!
A great in your face short story that addresses revenge and a sort of poetic justice. The coach and the students of his team under his control. They use a little bit of smarts by trying to use weapons that can't be traced back to them. Of course labeling athletes as being stupid is a bit cliche and not true in the modern era. Any championship team these days is scrutinized and most at least on the collegiate level are very smart indeed. Take Maya Moore for example, you can't call her stupid now can you? If you even want to play on any team for UCONN you have to maintain a 3.0 grade point average. The very old days of just getting a passing grade has been gone for years now! Maybe, just maybe things can be as they were in some inner city high schools, but since scholarship's are involved, most of your better schools and athletes are no longer brainless neanderthals as they are so often depicted in TG-Fiction stories.
The moral for the story is a good one though, even though morality themes are not very high on my list. A great setup that can't be outdone by the so-called meek ones is always a bonus!
For the coach and the team, this is a no win situation. No matter what choice they make, they lose and lose big! Jail? Maybe, but as for embracing the GLBTG folks and protecting them, won't happen. The only choice they would make would be that they never bother them again period.
That's not in the cards for this story though, Randalynn wants these beasts destroyed and destroy them she will!
I'll be very interested in reading the next chapter!
Huggles Randa, you go girl!
Angel
"Be Your-Self, So Easy to Say, So Hard to Live!"
"Be Your-Self, So Easy to Say, So Hard to Live!"
As always,
Glad to see your work! I enjoyed the story, but like the old saying says...
The only way 3 people can keep a secret is if two of them are dead.
Looking forward to the next installment.
Randalynn, your story A New
Randalynn, your story A New Game Plan is truly a tale of justice. Principal Harold Steele was brilliant in his turning the tables on Coach Roy Torkelson and the team. Now would it not be equally super if the team and cheer squad gained new members or discovered that some of the team was hiding their true natures and came out?
May Your Light Forever Shine