2040.3: Pucker Up

GM: Fred Holmes

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2040.3: Pucker Up

Post by Rubaboo » Tue Oct 15, 2019 12:40 pm


That's the only adjective that fits this particular morning as I shove through the front doors of the team offices. The weather? Foul. Hot, humid, miserable. The end of the dry season is approaching, which means the moisture is starting to gather but exists solely in its worst form: suspended in the air as vapor that transforms the city into a hazy, humid hellscape of sweat. My mood? Excessively foul. The team is playing like hot garbage. Some were picking us to win the division preseason. 6 weeks later, we're 16-25, a measly two games from last place and fighting to stay relevant. Offense? Foul. Pitching? Foul. On top of that, we got swept by Vegas this week, after their GM had spent the better part of April personally calling me out. Foul. The cherry on top of it all? I have a presser right away this morning. F-O-U-L

I reach the top of the stairs on the executive level and push through the doors to the managerial lobby, ignoring a greeting from the security guard and completely missing my assistant trying to flag me down as I go past him. His third attempt to get my attention finally registers and snaps me out of my pit of self loathing for a brief moment.

"A courier brought a package for you, I left it on your desk. Also, don't forget you have a media session in 15. No other messages this morning."

"Yeah, thanks." I manage to mutter in reply. As if I could forget. The media has been particularly unbearable of late, speculating and sensationalizing. Where are they when the team is humming along? Foul.

I open my office door, closing it behind me with a quiet click. I slump in my chair, turning to gaze out the window overlooking the stadium. Even this usually pristine view offers no respite from my melancholy today. I turn back away from the window and survey the 10" cardboard cube on my desk. No labels on it, just neat handwriting in green marker: Mexico City Front Office, Attn: Fred Holmes, General Manager.

I split the tape closing the top of the box with my key and open it. Immediately on top of the rest of the contents is a single folded A4 sheet of paper. I slowly unfold it. Inside, in what appears to be letters cut from a magazine like a ransom note, is a not that simply reads "Pucker Up!" Below the message, 19 pairs of lips have been taped, presumably cut from the same magazine that the letters came from. A tube of Chap Stick is taped here as well. I set the note aside, knowing full well what awaits inside the package but feeling obligated to look anyway. I dig through the kraft paper packaging until I reveal to top of the main object. There, staring out at me from his shiny gold perch, is Jovny, the Vlasic stork. I sigh heavily, and remove the jar of pickles from the remaining wrap.

"Damnit Schroeder..."

After a brief moment, I slide the jar to the edge of my desk and slowly push it off, into the gaping maw of the wastebasket waiting below. As the jar falls, however, it hits the rim of the metal can, shattering. I watch all of this as if its in slow motion, the jar seemingly explodes, sending pickles, brine, and broken glass cascading into an impossibly wide circle around the edge of the can.

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

I sigh heavily and bury my head in my arms on my desktop, a sign of surrender to whichever cruel god has been waging war on me. Just as I admit my defeat, there is a knock on my door and my media director pokes his head in the room. I glance up at him, and he looks at me quizzically before asking, "You ready?"

I take a deep breath, trying to collect myself. "Does it matter?" I ask rhetorically before walking towards to door to join him.

"Hey, does it smell like pickles in here to you?" he asks, letting his voice trail off a bit after glancing at my face. We walk in silence for a minute, then he looks at me and asks, "Are you ok? You seem like you're in a foul mood this morning."

I laugh despite myself, "You could say that."
Fred Holmes
General Manager
Mexico City Aztecs - BBA

JL Champs - 2027
JL Manager of the Year - 2023, 2024, 2026
JL MW Champs - 2022, 2023, 2024, 2027
JL Sun Belt Champs - 2035, 2036, 2038

Beirut Green Knights - UMEBA

BANC Champs - 2037

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Re: 2040.3: Pucker Up

Post by shoeless.db » Tue Oct 15, 2019 1:00 pm

I'm hoping beyond hope that Brett actually sent you a package of pickles ... Fedex, of course.
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Life is a bit more beautiful when time is measured by the half inning rather than the half hour. -- db "Shoeless" Olmsted

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Re: 2040.3: Pucker Up

Post by bschr682 » Tue Oct 15, 2019 10:47 pm

I approve!
Buried under a mountain of boxes at UPS. Oh and technically in charge of the Manama Pearls.

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Re: 2040.3: Pucker Up

Post by RonCo » Wed Oct 16, 2019 12:57 am

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Re: 2040.3: Pucker Up

Post by HoosierVic » Tue Oct 22, 2019 6:39 am

Ha! Excellent.

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