Frodo and Crack headed out to go visit someone that Frodo had not seen in a very long time. His elementary school Gym Teacher, Mr. O’Donnell. When Frodo had seen him last he was a young man fresh from college, who had a love for fitness. He was a pleasant fellow, not the sort you’d likely to see get angry. There was just one thing about him, he liked little kids. A lot.
Frodo had googled him, and found where he was currently living, but needed Crack as back up for this endeavor. As they dressed in their finest casual clothes, Frodo in some jeans without tears and a Detroit Red Wings jersey, #13, Datsyuk, cause that’s how he rolls. Crack was wearing his normal jeans and a plain black t-shirt, but he did put on a new hat, it was plain black. He rolls a little different than Frodo. They laced up their shoes and trudged off into the frozen tundra that is Detroit in the winter.
This would be an epic quest that would lead them to the heart of Frodo’s psychosis, he was ill prepared for this adventure, but he thought otherwise. Frodo was not molested, but he was the only one in the class who did not. Literally the only one not to. Why was Frodo not touched? Was he ugly, was he too small? Was it because his father was the principal at the High School? Frodo would maybe receive his answers today. Even if he did not receive them he was prepared to ask. Or so he thought.
After trekking for what felt like a decade they finally arrived at the house of one Charles O’Donnell, the gym teacher from so long ago. With the slightest hint of delay Frodo knocked on the door, gingerly. Careful not to damage the flimsy wooden door on the flimsy old house, he didn’t want to knock too hard, but knew he had to knock hard enough to be heard. The pair heard the scuffling sound of an old man coming to the door, and the howls of a dog accidentally being kicked.
I’m coming, don’t leave.
Frodo knew that voice, though it had been almost 30 years since he had heard it. That was the unmistakable voice of Mr. O’Donnell. Frodo shivered a little.
You ok, Midge? We can leave and not do this, if you want.
I have to do this, before I can fully move on I have to know why I was excluded.
The door opened up and an elderly gentlemen was standing before them, with befuddled eyes he stared at the young hobbit as if trying to place him.
Frederick Ward, I remember you. Come in, my boy. I haven’t seen you since 1986. Sit down, I wonder what brings you here.
Frodo and Crack walked in, and sat down on the old sofa, the sofa that hasn’t been updated since Bill Clinton had left office. The room was a cluttered mess, and it was definitely dated. His tv was the newest thing in the room, and it was even an older model Flat screen tv. There was even a VCR still hooked up to it.
I have to ask you something extremely odd, Mr. O’Donnell. Probably painful, and I’m sorry, but I need to know.
Ok, my boy. Ask anything you want.
Why didn’t you molest me when I was younger?
Because I don’t molest kids?
You molested every child in the class, except for me. Even that Brantley kid got it like 3 times in a month.
No, no he didn’t. Fred, I was sleeping with their mothers. I pulled them in to ask about their mothers, and tell them I probably wouldn’t be coming back around. I’m sorry if it looked like that, but I promise I’m not a pedophile. Just a home wrecker. Why would you think pedophile? That’s a terrible assumption to make.
Because of how everything went down, and all the news reports later about children getting raped. I just assumed, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you sleep with my mother?
Because she was a terrible woman, and powerful ugly. Your mother was a troll, kind of looked like that pro-wrestler in the XWF, Peter Gilmour. It’s ok, I understand your fear. What have you been up to these last years?
Frodo began to catch Mr. O’Donnell up on the events of the last 25 years of his life, and how he was now a wrestler in the XWF. How he got addicted to drugs, lost his wife and kids, and how his father passed away on the day he went to jail. Charles was as patient as an elderly man accused of being a child molester could be. Eventually he asked Frodo to leave, so he could nap. The duo headed home, and Frodo decided to cut one final promo for the day, so he sat down in front of his laptop.
Well, Hank, we’ve had a long run leading up to our match, and it’s not been fun. Come Wednesday night, I will end you. I will rip your stupid mullet out and punch you in each individual follicle. There will be nothing left of you for your friends to hold on to when they find you black and blue, face down in a parking lot. You will need a body bag. I will end your blood line, and I will shatter your eye socket. EYE SOCKET. You ever watch Breaking Bad? I will do to you what they did to Hank Schrader.
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