A Game of Death: A Twilight Zone Parody;
You are stepping through the mirror, into another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound but of really bad smells. A journey into a
wondrous land whose borders are set by the T and C's. Thats the sign post up ahead....Now entering "The Top-Secret Zone"
Here now we see a nondescript ball field. With its packed stands and scores of people eating hot dogs and nachos it could be any ball field in the
world. But this is no ordinary stadium, no this game is being played in the Top-Secret Zone.
Coming up to the plate is a young man on a slump. Its the bottom of the ninth, two outs, and the last player available to hit hasn't made contact all
year. Indeed he is 0 for 76 and the fickle fans of this particularly cursed team have had enough.
The people of this city have degenerated into a drunken, sex crazed psychosis. Forsaking all else for the pleasure of the body, and this young man
Tony Velleti has been chosen to help restore order.
Stepping to the plate myriad of things are going through his head, but in the forefront was getting his first hit of the season. 'Alright Tony
this is it. I can win this game'
he thinks to himself. Getting into his stance he looks up just in time to see the beer bottle flying towards his
"God-dammit!" he yells as he dives out of the way. "I play for your team a-hole!" he screams in the general direction the bottle had come from,
while extending an inappropriate gesture.
Stepping back into the batters box he does his best to ignore the derogatory remarks the crowd is hurling at him. 'Better to throw hate than beer
bottles I suppose'
he thinks to himself. 'Alright focus Tony'
. The pitcher settles in to read the signs from his catcher. He shakes his
head, calling off the first sign. 'Dammit this prick is going to throw me a curve'
The pitcher raises up, comes into his throwing motion and releases the ball. As Tony watches it sail through the air heading for the strike zone time
slows. He can see each individual stitch as the ball spins, he knows its a curve and he knows exactly where to swing to make contact.
"Arughhh". He swings and misses. Same story all year, he can see the ball he just cant hit the ball.
Tony steps back cursing himself. He looks up into the stands to see the guards attempting to restrain someone in the crowd. 'Probably gonna throw
another beer at me'
he thinks to himself. Suddenly the crowd turns on the guards, a riot is breaking out in the stands.
Though Tony can believe what he is seeing what he cant believe is that the umpire orders the game to resume. He looks back at the man and with a blank
expression mouths the words "Are you #ting me?" The umpire just shrugs and nods in the direction of the owners booths.
thinks Tony 'As long as they make their money they don't give a crap. Always another drunk ya-hoo to take an empty
Stepping back up to the plate Tony shoulders his bat and gives some consideration to the game. "Alright" he says aloud now, the sound
from the crowd making it so he can't hear his own thoughts "Hell..maybe if I get a hit i can get outta here alive"
"OK God if you're up there help me out here...I'm not religious but damn I could use your help now." he says as he mimes a gesture he had seen his
mother do in his youth, tracing a cross on his chest.
The pitcher raises up on the mound again, finding the pitch he liked. Leg kick and the ball is on its way. Tony focuses in, sees the
ball..."Arughhh" a swing and a miss. Strike two.
"God-dammit!!" yells Tony, slamming his bat down onto home-plate breaking it in half. Walking back to the dugout to retrieve another bat he resumes
his discussion with a god he doesn't believe in. "OK fine so you don't want to help, I can understand that. It's not like I have given much of my
time to you, so why would you give yours too me? Right....OK" he grabs a new bat and turns and heads back for the plate. "But if you help me out
here I'm yours...just get me out of this hell hole alive!"
Stepping back up to the plate Tony closes his eyes, 'Cmon..one last shot, lets help each other out'
As the riot in the stands escalates, the storm shrouded sky above the field breaks slightly and a single ray of the brightest sunshine cascades down
Tony gets into his stance, the pitcher smiles; he knows he has an easy out here and the game is over.
As the pitcher starts his motion the crowd is demanding blood....blood of the guards...blood of the hitless Tony....any blood will suffice. They are
about to get more than they bargained for.
The pitcher releases the ball and Tony sees it clearly, another curve. No matter, this particular pitch is blessed.
The ball closes in and Tony begins his swing. He puts every ounce of strength he has behind it. The ball meets the sweet spot of the bat right over
the top of the plate. And right in the middle of the wayward ray of sunshine streaking down from the heavens.
"BAM!!" A brilliant flash of light blinds the stadium, dropping Tony to the dirt.
Rubbing his burning eyes as he stands Tony cannot initially see anything. As his vision clears he is left speechless at what he sees. The entire
stadium is now a pile of rubble, the dust still settling. As his vision and understanding cleared he looked beyond the stadium and noticed now the
smoke and alarms rising in the distance.
Standing there, the only surviving soul of a moral-less city, a voice comes to Tony.
"Go now my creation, spread the word. The time of the merciful one has passed, now we come to the time of trails. Destitution will not be
tolerated." echoed the voice. Tony couldn't tell if it was audible or just in his head.
As he turns to climb from the rubble of a once grand stadium the skin off the baseball floats down and lands at his feet.
'At least I got a hit'
Tony Velleti, a man who at his best times was looked upon with disdain. An ironic twist that he would be a profit, walking over the bones of those who
mocked him. It is ever the overlooked who seem to come to some form of power here, in The Top-Secret Zone.