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December 20, 2006

Tanya: Untitled

“Coach! Coach!”

“I’m here, son. Let the paramedics work.”

“It’s just dislocated, kid. Relax your leg, and… Look! It’s Elvis!”

“Wuh?”

{ Pop }

“Aaaaarrghhh! Oh my holy fucking...”

They let him swear until he realized it didn’t hurt anymore. “Will I ever play football again, doc?”

“I’m not a doctor. But yeah, you’ll be back in the game in a few weeks.”

“I won’t lose my scholarship?”

“Nah, you’ll be fine.”

As the young quarterback limped toward the ambulance, the paramedics whispered to each other, “He’ll be feeling that knee every time it rains.”

“If he lives to be a hundred.”

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