Chuck and his buddies were practicing on the basketball court to much jeer leading by contemporaries who favored football. Chuck made a few free throws.
Missed. Missed. Missed.
Hoops of derision rounded from the sidelines.
“You couldn’t even score with your girlfriend at a game of donuts and cherries.”
Chuck was about to say he’s never had a girlfriend but thought better of it. Romantically unsuccessful, he was envious of the great Wilt “The Stilt” Chamberlain who was an expert on rebounds and bedded an alleged 20,000 women. Did this make Wilt a misogynist? Chuck threw and missed again.
The bored spectators imitated a gradually throbbing organ………dum…….dum……dum….dum..dum.dum. and departed downtown. Now Chuck was a bull and not a toad.
“Away and play with your odd-shaped ball, you shower of very wide, very wide, very wide receivers.”
He timed his pitch so it stopped slightly short of earshot of his detractors. For to be precise the position they posited on the field was that of linebackers.
Practice time was now over and Chuck and his friends headed home to base. On the way they popped into the Boots Superstore for that nourishment beloved of all sports stars: Hershey Bars. Before they could purchase their snack they clapped eyes on the MVP at their high school: the out-of-bounds, no chance of a date on the plate, gorgeous cheerleader.
She was conversing with the store manager and was in the process of buying the last bottle of blue nail varnish in the shop. This will go lovely with my outfit, they’ll call me, devil with the blue dress on, she flirted. As she lifted the bottle from the shelf it slipped from her grasp and was in danger of a floor violation.
The boys scrimmaged and dived toward the unexploded bomb. Chuck was first down and flipped the bottle heavenward were it soared a course thru the cosmos to the galaxy in a fake juxtaposed impression of Pele’s halfway line shot and a Beckham free-kick. The slow motion of the projectile unbalanced the cheerleader and her shoe slipped making her tackle the manager. The manager fell onto the shelves of perfumes.
Slowly at first, the lines of scents tumbled onto one another, gathering momentum in an unofficial domino toppling record, then becoming a union with all kinds of beauty products in a western world democratic consensus. Racing around the horn the breaking glass did not stop until everything was sacked. The noise startled a police horse that was outside. Catching the rider napping, the animal made off with the speed and endurance of a triple-crown winner even though its name was Rope-a-dope.
Back in the shop amidst the ruins, the sole survivor of the “Cull of the Cosmetics” was the blue nail varnish bottle that stood in the front row. Chuck was cock-a-hoop with his throw, Meadowlark Lemon couldn’t have made that shot, the girl will be impressed and he straightened up his vest in anticipation. She said.
“I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll wear my red dress tonight.”
Boadicea's Chariot 
Deliciously surreal. 🙂
How does he do it?