Bowling Bobby

Bobby eyed up his reflection in the deep blue bowling ball. Tracing every whirl of the marble, lovingly, with his finger, he made his way towards the black finger holes. With the ball firmly held by his strong hand, he made a few practice shots, trying to remember to keep hold of the ball.

“Here he is ladies and gentlemen, the man, they say, was brought up at the back of a bowling lane, with only a pin as a toy, the one, the only, bowling bobby!!!”

Bobby spun round to see who spoke, tripped over a sneaker, and managed to place the bowling ball firmly in Hank’s chest.

“No need for that” Hank snarled “Just givin’ ya a little introduction.”

His tone lightened. “So, you ready to be thrashed?”

“Not likely…remember, I’m BOWLING BOBBY! Did you convince Ally to come?”

“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen fixing a sandwich.”

“Why? Who broke it?”

In the kitchen, Ally worked on her sandwich. Not the best cook, but she tried hard.
Having completed the sandwich, which by this point, resembled the leaning tower of Pisa, she packed it into a food bag and headed towards the garage. She caught a glimpse of Bobby on the stairs, attempting to hammer his ball into a bag on the way down. The ball obviously wasn’t going to fit.

“Give it up!” Ally urged him.

“It’ll fit, I tells ya, it’ll fit!”

5 minutes later, Bobby clambered into the car with the bag. A huge tear ran along the side of it, but never the less, the ball was in.

“Told you!” Bobby laughed.

The trip to the bowling alley was short, but more threats, and promises of people being killed, took place, than had in both the world wars combined.

The scene was set, and lane paid for. The dreaded “clown shoes”, that smelt like they had had a fish rotting inside them for a week, were gingerly put on. The names had been programmed into the computer and they were ready to go. Hank first, then Ally, then Bobby. He insisted that he should go last, in order to “figure out the pins, find the lanes weaknesses” and so on.
Hank stepped up to the lane and bowled his first ball. The speed was incredible…incredibly…slow.

“Get that ball moving Hank” Ally yelled “That guy with the zimmer’s catching up!”

“I prefer to think of speed in terms of snails” Hank reasoned “To a snail, that was…pretty damn fast!”

Argument was pointless. Hank laughed at his own joke, Ally sighed, and Bobby just stared at the pins. Obviously in deep thought…a very rare occurrence with Bobby, they decided to leave him.
Ally’s shot. With Hank only managing to knock down 3 pins with both his goes, she took the shot with confidence. It was fast, and not just by a snail’s standards, AND it went straight. Straight into the gutter.

“Umm…oops?”

With the second try, though, she managed to clear 6 pins. A nice accomplishment for her, since the last time she bowled she was still doing a paper round.

Bobby stood up. He carefully took the ball out of its bag and walked up to the lane with it. Hank and Ally exchanged concerned looks, as Bobby was heard to say;

“Make this shot, and, I swear, I will polish you tonight, like you have never been polished before!”

He stepped back, once, twice, three times, and then ran at the lane at full speed. Hank and Ally grimaced, waited for the fall, then waited for the crunch as the ball landed on his toe, then waited for the ambulance as they tried to convince Bobby that it was a good try.

“I thought I had it.” He moaned “I thought I had everything worked out perfectly…the lane, the pins, my ball, I even took into account that the light may blind me slightly as I let the ball go……I did not take into account YOUR FOOT!”

Hank just kept his eyes to the floor as he tried to explain himself.

“Well, you see, I, umm, I mean. OH, I COULDN’T RESIST! The inner child took over, it was him, not me!” Hank cried, moaning inwardly at his less than perfect excuse.

Ally, meanwhile, was desperately trying to stifle her laughter, as a slightly dented deep blue bowling ball was passed Bobby’s way.

The paramedics confirmed Hank’s suspicion that the toe was not broken, (Hank’s suspicion mainly consisting of prayers that it wasn’t broken), and for the rest of the game, the great and magnificent, Bowling Bobby, used a bowling ramp to push the ball to the end of lane.

“It’s not THAT slow Bobby…” Hank tried to comfort him.

“Wow, watch out,” Ally jeered, “I think a snail just overtook the ball.”

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