Published: 15 Oct 2018

Coach Slater bent down picking up the piece of paper looking around for the closest trash can in which to deposit it. Taking a quick glance at the paper he spied the heading, “Game Plan for Championship.”

Looking closer, he noted it was an outline with some remarks penciled here and there. Reading it over, Coach Slater saw that the game plan essentially banked on Tim to be the starting quarterback and that their game would rely on what got them to the Championship, namely it would be based on the running game. Coach shook his head at the bad luck of the Neenah Coach for having dropped a piece of his paperwork, but as with anything else in life the Coach used one of his favorite sayings: Shit Happens.

The paper he scanned mentioned nothing about Neenah’s defensive strategy and on balance wasn’t that much of a help. A team that good, he was sure, should be able to compensate for having to play against an unexpected quarterback.

Hitting the field, Coach Slater and his team noted that on the Home Team side, for the Cougars played this game as the Home Team, the stands had a good showing of blue and white. Not as many as for the last two games played at Monterrey, but noticeably more were on the Neenah side. He estimated at least 10,000 Cougar fans. In terms of the crowd Camp Randall Stadium was full to its 80,321 capacity.

Not an empty seat in the house.

After the pre-game warmups, Coach readied his team one last time. “Gentlemen, if we win the toss we’ll elect to defer and we’ll do an onside kick. Nobody will be looking for that as the opening move, and that’s why we spent so much time practicing it the last couple of weeks. Other than that, each man do his job. That is all.”

Out for the coin-flip, the referees advised the opposing Captains, and the Governor of Wisconsin came out to toss the coin. “Good luck, guys!” he said as he flipped the coin. Neenah won the toss and elected to receive. The signal given to the Cougar bench, the kickoff team ran onto the field to start the game.

They lined up in classic kickoff formation not giving away that this would be an onside kick. The whistle blew, and they were off. The kicker hiked the ball high up in the air and it went the required ten yards down the field. The Red Rockets were caught completely off guard without a man close to the ball. The ball thudded to the ground, bounced twice and landed square in front of Brett whose quickness allowed him to be in place. Rather than fall on the ball, Brett picked it up and ran. He made it an additional twelve yards down the field before being brought down to loud boos from the Neenah fan section. The move netted the Cougars starting field position at their own 45-yard line.

Sean knew he’d need a touchdown here in order to get out to an early lead. To him, a lead is important in any game, but doubly so in a Championship game, as the opponents would feel put on the back foot. He had no way to know that the Red Rockets were expecting Tim and not him. Tim called the plays and in classic season-long style, the Cougars opened with the Power Sweep. Since Sean was left-handed, the sweep ran the opposite way it would have if Tim, a righty, were in, and it worked for a solid ten-yard gain and a first down.

For the next play, Sean lined up in shotgun formation with a full complement of receivers. On the snap, he rolled out of the pocket, but again in the opposite direction Neenah expected. He had more than adequate time to find a man open, and he found Brett down near the ten-yard line with nobody on him. Drilling the ball to Brett at a speed that made catching it difficult, Brett nevertheless latched onto it and made for the end zone, crossing the line still standing.

After less than than one minute of playing time, the score stood Craig 7, Neenah 0 once the Cougars made the extra point kick. The Cougar stands were ecstatic in their cheering while the Neenah fans were gobsmacked, some regarding the opening onside kick as dirty play.

This time for the kickoff, the Cougars kicked conventionally and Neenah ran it back for decent starting field position at their own 32-yard line. In possession of the ball, the Red Rockets were formidable. Both their running and passing attacks gave the Cougar defense fits, primarily due to the quality of their offensive line. The Red Rockets were methodically moving the ball down the field and looked set fair to score a touchdown of their own.

Burning seven minutes off the clock, Neenah had marched the ball down to a first-and-ten at the Cougar 22-yard line. The Cougar defense knew that they needed to make a stand then and there. And they did. On first down, they stopped the Neenah fullback two yards behind the line of scrimmage. On the next play, Brett batted down a pass intended for the Neenah receiver who was already in the end zone. On third and twelve, Neenah was stopped again and had to settle for a field goal leaving the Cougars still in charge 7-3.

On their next possession, the Cougars scored again relying on their running game with a mind toward eating up clock time. Coach Slater observed that Neenah’s passing game was not completely effective against the Cougar defensive backfield and was content to rely on his solid ground attack on offense. Neenah played it the same way, relying on their running game deeming their passing game to be out-defended, hoping to tire out the Cougars. Back and forth the game went until halftime when the score stood Craig 14 – Neenah 10.

At that same moment, Ginny’s Mercedes glided into the parking lot of the Janesville Country Club. Entering the building she made her way down to the basement entering the Founders Room. Awaiting her already were Bill Kennedy and his long-suffering attorney, Ed Steele. She timed it to make sure they’d been sitting there stewing for a few minutes before she made her entrance.

“Good afternoon, boys. I see you made bail, Bill,” Ginny tartly observed. “Let’s just get down to business, shall we?”

Bill Kennedy sat silently with a murderous look of contempt on his face. Attorney Steele motioned Ginny to go ahead.

“Alright, then…. Bill, I’ve been in contact with your brother in Chicago. I made him aware of the birth certificate and that he, not you, is the rightful owner of the construction company.”

“You CUNT!” Kennedy spat.

“I might be a cunt, but I’m still your mother, Billy Boy, and you’re gonna shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say because if you don’t I’ll see to it that by this time next week you’re a pauper and we’ll just add fraud to the little list of things you’ve already got on your plate to answer for. Am I being clear?”

“Are you threatening my client?” Attorney Steele asked.

At that, an outraged Ginny pounded the table with her fist, eyes ablaze. “Don’t fuck with me, fellas! This ain’t my first time at the rodeo….”¹

“Perhaps we misjudged your interest in the matter….” Steele said.

Ginny continued. “Smooth as ever I see, Ed. Anyway, as I said, I’ve been in touch with your brother. I’ve brought him up to speed on everything that’s been going on around here lately. Needless to say, he wasn’t impressed.”

“That’s it? You called me down here to tell me my brother’s not impressed? What the hell kind of bullshit is this?”

“I was being polite, Bill. I’ll just save us all a lot of time and bottom line it. He’s got no interest in running that company, however it is a matter of some concern to him that he’s the rightful owner. See, he might be younger than you are, but he’s the legitimate heir, not you. We both also know you altered your father’s will, so there’s that, too. Anyway, here’s the deal: he’s gonna be a sport about it and buy the company from you. And you are going to sell it to him. For $10 million. You can either stay and run it just like you are now, only for a salary and serving at your brother’s pleasure and be paid the $10 million in three years to boogie, or you can take the money now and retire. That’s the choice you have. And it’s not negotiable.”

“You fucking BITCH!” Kennedy bellowed while Steele motioned him to calm down.

“Shut it, Bill. Your brother’s pissed. That’s what I’d concentrate on right now if I were you. He’s pissed because you cheated him, but mostly because you cheated your dad. Your brother woulda kept the company and let you run it. You’d still be a big shot around town, you’d still be rich, but no, you hadda get cute about it. You broke the law, Bill. You acted like your shit doesn’t stink. Your brother got the last laugh because he ended up wealthier than you are anyway. He can buy and sell you and today he’s buying. So…in exchange for taking the deal, the D.A. will drop all the charges against you except Disorderly Conduct. I’m sure you understand I hadda throw him at least some kind of a bone…. You decide yes, we move ahead. You decide no, your ass is mine and you’ll fucking lose everything you have. You’ll be in jail, and I’ll personally see to it, trust me. You got exactly twenty-four hours to make up your mind. The paperwork’s ready to file in court. That’s all I have to say.”

“I suppose we’ll hear from Dickson then at some point?” Steele asked.

“Nope,” Ginny said. “I wouldn’t put George in that position. I’ve got a Chicago attorney on the case. He’s a real beaut, too. You know…one of those badass assholes that hates rich folks but loves money so he gets his rich clients to sue other rich people. This kind of fraud shit is right up his alley. He’ll be in touch. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”

With that, Ginny stood to leave the room.

Pausing for theatrical effect, Ginny turned back to Kennedy and Steele. “Just one more thing…. Part of the deal here is that you will never have any contract with any of the Wymans ever again, and that includes your unborn grandsons who I remind you will also be MY great-grandsons. Sean Wyman will have sole custody of them. And you are to have nothing to do with the youngest Wyman boy either, who’s dating Kathleen. That’s also not negotiable. Not one fucking RCH.² I’ll be sitting by the phone. Twenty-four hours, boys…. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.”

Ginny then stalked out of the room. Making her way up the stairs she was satisfied she’s won once again. Kennedy had no wiggle room this time and she knew that he knew that.

At the beginning of the second half the Cougars received the Neenah kickoff. Sean and the offense ran out onto the field hoping to extend their lead. At halftime, only a few adjustments were made to the game plan and the team was reasonably confident of leaving Madison with the Championship Trophy.

Sean reasoned that on this possession if the Cougars could manage another touchdown, while not being the absolute dagger that would make the win inevitable, it would nonetheless make it a two-score game and put the Cougars chances of winning at something like 85%.

He also reasoned that in terms of game management the wise course of action would be to concentrate on running the ball and chew up game time now that they were in the home stretch. A steady, measured slog down the field could get the Cougars the score, and use up probably seven minutes of time. And that is how Tim called the plays, too.

The drive progressed as planned. Slowly, yet purposefully the ball was moved down the field. Presently, the Cougars found themselves unusually in a third-and-long situation. Third-and-seven at the Neenah 39-yard line. Down and distance dictated a passing play this time, and while Sean preferred not to have to do that the reality of the matter was that there didn’t exist a satisfactory alternative.

Lining up under center, Sean hoped to at least somewhat fool the Neenah Defense into thinking the upcoming play would be another run. Eyeballing the Neenah defense told Sean that they weren’t buying what he was selling. The situation dictated an audible. Sean switched to the shotgun formation, called the new play and counted the snap. Ball snapped, he faded back to pass but the receivers were having difficulty getting open. Concentrating on finding a man open, Sean missed the fact that the Neenah defensive end once shed of his receiver had crossed the line of scrimmage making a beeline toward him from behind.

Reaching Sean, the Neenah defender, much larger than Sean at 6’4” and 240 pounds flattened Sean like a pancake, and with helmet-to-helmet contact, for a loss of eight yards. Sean had the wind knocked out of him, and for a few seconds was out cold. Coming to, he saw stars, ears ringing and shoulder immobile. An injury timeout was called and Coach Slater and the team Trainer ran onto the field to assess the condition of their quarterback. Sean was face down on the turf and not moving. They flipped him over and sat him up. The Trainer noted that Sean’s eyes were unfocused.

“Wyman!” the Trainer barked. “How many fingers do I have up?” he asked holding up his index and middle fingers.

“Um, four?” Sean guessed.

Turning to Coach Slater, the Trainer said, “Let’s get him off the field.”

The Trainer and Coach Slater each slung one of Sean’s arms over their shoulders and hoisted up the 190-pound body of their exemplary quarterback to begin the walk off the field. Both men noted that Sean’s steps were unsteady and a little wobbly, and that if they were to attempt to get him to walk off under his own power it was more likely than not that he’d fall down. Coach Slater looked at the Trainer whispering, “I don’t like what I see.”

The Trainer signaled his silent agreement by shaking his head.

Back on the sidelines, Coach Slater sent his punting team in as field position was too far away to attempt a field goal. The Trainer seated Sean on the bench, proceeding to give him a few more quick tests. Sean’s responses were slow and his eyes still not totally focusing, or properly following a pen in circles. Placing Sean’s head between his knees and telling him to stay that way for a little while, the Trainer made his way over to Coach Slater.

“Not liking this, Bob. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s had a concussion. In fact, the way he looks I think he’s had one recently. I think maybe he got one in that ruckus after the Rufus King game and the doctor didn’t detect it.”

“Will he be able to play?”

“Right now, no. Maybe in a little bit. But only barely maybe. He hasn’t thrown up which is a good sign, but in the condition he’s in at this moment, he couldn’t even take a snap. He’s that uncoordinated….”

“Dickson!’ Coach Slater barked.

Running over, Tim stood in front of his Coach. “Mister Dickson, it appears that Mister Wyman may not be able to play. You tell me honestly if you can, or not.”

“I can throw, Coach, but with my left arm I’m not sure how well I could take a snap, or control the ball until I throw. Can I hand off? Yeah, if I don’t drop the ball…. Look, if Wymo can’t play….”

“Thank you, Mister Dickson. Let’s get Mister Krieger over here.” Referring to Kris Krieger the Cougar Jayvee quarterback who was brought along in case of an emergency.

“Yes, Coach?” Kris Krieger replied. Kris was a Sophomore. He played in all the Jayvee games that season, but never in a Varsity game and never mind a game for the State Championship against another Division I undefeated team.

“Mister Krieger, I’m sorry son but it appears that Mister Wyman may not be able to finish the game. We’ve got doubts also as to Mister Dickson’s fitness to play. If I put you in at quarterback, how confident would you be?”

“I’d try my best, Coach. I gotta be honest, though, I’m no Dickson or Wyman out there….”

“Very well,” Coach Slater replied. “On our next possession, I’ll send in Mister Dickson and we’ll just see how that goes. I want both of you to start warming up.”

Tim and Kris nodded to Coach, trotting off to begin their warm ups. On the way, Tim stopped to have a couple words with Sean. Plopping down next to him on the bench, Tim looked at his stricken friend. “You gonna be OK, bud?”

“I gotta get back in the game, Dix!” Sean said, now sitting up straight. “I gotta….”

“Let’s see what happens next possession and what Coach says. I’m probably only 50%, but I’ll do the best I can. You callin’ the plays?”

“I guess so…. I’ll see….” Sean stood up, slapped Tim on the back and made his way over to Coach Slater.

“Coach?” Sean said.

“Mister Wyman…. How you feeling?”

“Still smacked, but better, I guess…. Look, I know you hafta send Dix in next. I’ll get back in after that. Dix wants to know if I’ll be calling the plays.”

“You feel that you can, Mister Wyman? Don’t bullshit me, son. Your health means more than a football game….”

“I’m pretty sure I can do it. I’m walking OK, and I can see straight. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be in before the end of the game. Count on it, Coach.”

“I hafta be honest, son. I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

Sean didn’t answer. He knew he’d be back in. He knew he’d have to be.

In the meantime, the Cougars failed to gain a first down, were forced to punt and the Red Rockets had the ball. They didn’t look like they were to be denied this time. They were moving it down the field with alacrity, their own quarterback reeling off a heretofore unseen in this game string of cannon-ball passes for quick yardage. The Red Rocket receivers seemed on this possession to be just a half-second more on their marks than the Cougar defenders and it was showing. In two minutes of game time, the Cougars watched in heartbreak and horror as Neenah scored a touchdown and added the extra point to take the lead 17-14 with less than five minutes left to go in the game.

After the kickoff, Tim went in at quarterback with Sean calling the plays. Sean felt queasiness overtake him and he threw up on the sidelines much to the alarm of Coach Slater. Coach came over and relieved Sean of calling plays, sending him to see the Trainer again.

The Trainer put Sean through another battery of tests on which Sean performed much better this time. “What did you feel like before you threw up, son?”

“My stomach is in knots because we’ve come this far and we might lose. I have a job to do. I feel OK. Let me go back in.”

“I know. I can’t do that, though. I’m going to give you some Coca-Cola syrup for your stomach. I also want you to breathe some Oxygen for a couple minutes. I can’t recommend putting you back in yet, though…. I don’t know if you will go back in. I’m legally liable, Mister Wyman.”

Sean cursed under his breath.

Walking in the front door of her house, Ginny put her things down and poured herself a Scotch. No sooner did she sit down and grab the television remote did the telephone ring. It was Ed Steele.

“Ginny, I won’t keep you. Bill’s gonna take the deal. He’ll sell now and retire. He wants to know who’s going to run the company once he goes.”

“That’s none of his business. It’ll be up to his brother. I’m sure there’s someone who’s already there who can run it just fine, or at least until a CEO can be found. All Bill ever did was drink and play golf anyway for the last twenty years and now he wants to worry about that shit? I’d say who’s the next guy to sit in his office is just about the least of his worries today, wouldn’t you?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Ginny.”

“That’s the only way to be, Ed. Bill knows he shouldn’t have fucked with me. He knows that flat out. That’s why he took the deal so quick. He knew he picked the wrong person to play this game with. Besides, you know as well as I do that Bill brought all this on himself. He couldn’t be happy with what he had, even though he cheated to get it. He had to try to ruin that young man’s life and try to break into my house to steal something he could have got just by getting it at the courthouse for five dollars. He was gonna try to take those babies, too, wasn’t he…. What the hell for? What the fuck was he gonna do with two babies?

“And even if it wasn’t for me, he’d never have got what he wanted out of that Wyman kid anyway. Not in a million years. Lemme tell ya something, Ed, that kid’s smarter on his fucking worst day than Bill is on his best. And if Bill would have fucked with him Bill would have lost everything he ever had and not got the $10 million. He can think I’m the biggest bitch in the world, I don’t give a shit, but at the end of the day I didn’t hang his ass out to dry. This was all done confidentially and I let him save face around town here. I did the decent thing and I didn’t have to. You make damn sure he understands that, Ed, because like the old saying goes, it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”

“Jesus Christ, Ginny,” Steele laughed into the phone. “Is there anything else?”

“Yeah…. There will be something in the agreement about not having anything contact with the Wyman family, and that he has to maintain a residence here in town and that Kathleen will graduate from Craig. Other than that, nothing other than specifying the mechanics of the sale of the business and what we talked about at the Club. I’ll phone my guy in Chicago tomorrow and he’ll get the paperwork to you. I told him to keep it simple. Now I know I already said so, but I’m just gonna say it one more time: none of this is negotiable. It’s all, or nothing. Period. Just wanna make that clear.”

“I’ll remind Bill. OK, good talking to you, Ginny. I wish it had been under different circumstances.”

“Me too, but ya play the hand you’re dealt, hey, and this time I had all the Aces….”

“You usually have all the Aces, Ginny…. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

“You bet. Bye.” Ginny smiled knowingly returning to her Scotch and reaching for a cigar.

The Cougar’s possession of the ball with Tim in at quarterback was not going well. On first down he fumbled the snap. Luckily, he was able to fall on the ball preventing a turnover, but it still cost the team a two-yard loss. On second down, Tim managed to hang on to the ball and set up for a pass, but his injured left arm interfered with his ball control sufficiently to slow him down enough so that by the time he connected with his receiver it was only for a three-yard gain leaving the Cougars with a third and long. Coach Slater called a time out.

Back on the sidelines, Coach Slater decided to put Kris Krieger in for the third down deeming Tim’s ball handling ability to be too compromised. The result was a sharper performance than Tim’s two recent plays, but brought the team short of a first down, leaving them with fourth down and three yards to go. This late in the game and for the Championship, Coach Slater was willing to gamble. He kept his offense on the field hoping that they could gain the three yards needed in order to sustain the drive. Coach knew this was an unreasonable task to place on the shoulders of an unprepared Sophomore, but he also knew he had no choice.

Krieger managed, on a quarterback sneak, to gain the first down and keep the drive alive. The game clock was now at two minutes and twenty seconds with the Cougars on their own 34-yard line. Two more plays went by before the two-minute warning with the team facing a third and two. During the two-minute warning time out, Coach huddled with his young stand-in quarterback.

“Son, I’m sorry. I’m sorry to put this on you. It’s not fair and I know it isn’t. Just go out and do your best. That’s all a guy can do.”

“I’m not a quitter, Coach,” the young man gamely replied.

“No, no you’re not. I know you’ll get through this.”

Back on the field, on the third down play the Neenah Defense sacked Krieger for a six-yard loss leaving Craig with a fourth and eight.

Sean rose to his feet. He felt his mother’s voice telling him again that he had her strength and steadiness. He was determined to get back in the game. Now.

Reaching Coach Slater, Sean as team Captain signaled a time out. This was the Cougar’s last time out.

“What the hell, Mister Wyman!” Coach barked.

“Coach, I’m going back in. And I’m going back in now. I feel fine. And I don’t give a shit. No one else but me can win this game. It’s why I came here today. Only I can do this. And you know it.”

Coach Slater was speechless. His mind working overtime, he knew it was called for to bench Sean both for insubordination and because he shouldn’t take the risk of Sean being further injured. That is what his head told him. His heart, however, told him to believe in the extraordinary young man standing before him. “Mister Wyman, you look me in the eye and you tell me that if I put you back in you can pull this off. You look me in the eye man-to-man.”

Sean squared his shoulders and eyeball to eyeball addressed his Coach. “Coach, like I said only I can do this. Nobody else. Only me. And like I told you this last week, my entire life has been but a preparation for this game, for this moment. We’re down by three points, we need a touchdown to win, we have less than two minutes to play, over sixty yards to go and no time outs. Dix can’t do that right now, and Kriegs can’t do that right now. Only I can. Yeah, I’ll get it done. Believe in me.”

Coach Slater looked down at the ground for a little while and then looked back at Sean. “Get out there, Mister Wyman. And, son…I believe in you.”

Sean said not a word. He simply turned with military precision running out onto the field with the rest of the offense. The Craig cheering section erupted in a thunderous roar seeing Jersey Number 2 on the field.

In the huddle he told his team mates the truth. “Guys, I’m probably only 80-85%. Maybe not even. I can’t run all the plays we usually do. We gotta run no huddle so I’ll be calling the plays at the snap. Listen for audibes. The first play is gonna be the Reverse Power Sweep run from the shotgun. Now, let’s fucking DO THIS! We’re gonna win this game. Take that to the bank!”

Setting up in the gun, Sean’s initial bark indicated a hard count. The ruse worked, drawing Neenah offside for a ten-yard penalty and a first down. Signaling no change in play call, Sean sauntered back, barked out the count, took the snap and completed the handoff to the fullback. While the Neenah defense picked up that the play was a sweep, they missed that it was also a reverse with the result being a massive gain for the Cougars all the way down to the Neenah twenty-one-yard line.

Hurrying back up to the line, Sean took the snap and spiked the ball stopping the clock with one minute and forty-two seconds left to go. He bent over, grabbing his knees as he felt his balance start to go. Taking measured, deep breaths he silently prayed. Prayed that he could stay standing. Prayed that he’d not let his team mates down. Prayed that he would deliver on what he’d told his Coach.

Again, Sean lined up in the shotgun. On this play, he was going to go for broke sending out all the receivers into the end zone. The ball snapped, he faded back to pass, the receivers again finding it difficult to shed their defenders. He spotted Brett alone on the one-yard line, cocked back and fired a bullet right into Brett’s hands. The Neenah defender was too good and stripped the ball resulting in a wasted down.

On the next play, Sean connected on a pass to Brett, but short of the end zone. Sean noted the time remaining was fifty-four seconds and the field position was first and goal at the two yard line. It was now within their grasp. The clock was running. Sean set his team, took the snap, handing off to the halfback who was stopped short of the goal line. Clock still running. Again, back to the line for second down. Sean took the snap and spiked the ball stopping the clock.

He huddled his team mates. Kneeling in the middle of the huddle, Sean was honest with them, “Guys, I know it’s only third down, but this has to be the last play of the game. If we don’t make it we can kick a field goal for the tie and go into OT. I don’t have it in me to play an OT period. I’ve got a concussion. I can’t see straight. I’m puking. My head feels like it’s gonna explode. I’m done. So, this is it. Do or die.”

He then looked at his right guard, “Look, I noticed sometimes the Line Judge isn’t looking down the line when the ball is snapped. I want you to line up one foot back from the line of scrimmage. I’m gonna signal the play is the Power Sweep which I already know they’re gonna recognize if I signal it in the clear, but it won’t be. What we’re gonna do is I’m going to hard count the snap and if you see him not looking you take off a nanosecond before the ball is snapped. If not, take off as normal. Either way, you knock the defensive tackle on his ass and I’ll follow you through into the end zone. That’s it. That’s all I got left in me, guys….” Sean then turned his head and threw up, his vision becoming unfocused. “I need a few deep breaths. I’ll be OK, but this is the last play…. Let’s remember what Cunns told us: Either we heal as a team, or we will die as individuals. It is what it is…. Let’s win this fuckin’ game RIGHT NOW and go home.”

Up to the line of scrimmage the Cougars strode, grim-faced. Across the line glowered the formidable Neenah Red Rockets defense. It was truly the irresistible force meeting the immovable object.

Sean noted the Line Judge was gazing at his watch. He fingered the acorn in his pocket and barked out the count rapid-fire before the Line Judge looked up. The ball was snapped and then….

1. Rodeo scene from “Mommie Dearest”.

2. RCH is an acronym meaning “Red Cunt Hair.” It is typically used for emphasis when denoting the smallest unit of measurement known to man.

Let Eric know that you are reading his story. You may email him at: Trager2275 at Gmail dot Com

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