Robbie and Dane watched the kids playing soccer with a careful eye. It was fine balance between being a fan and a creep, and they wanted to stay on the good side of the equation so they could track all the games each weekend. Dane and Robbie ran a food truck and paid top dollar for a reserved parking spot close to the fields at the sports complex. They sold juice, sodas, energy drinks, energy pastes, energy bars, energy cookies as well as pretty much any food that could be microwaved. But Robbie and Dane’s business plan went far deeper than serving snacks and drinks from a truck. Robbie and Dane were bookies.
They had stumbled into a goldmine among the helicopter parents with expendable income that spent hours every weekend watching their kids run up and down the fields. The dads were especially easy marks as the gambling turned a boring obligation into an exciting and potentially profitable venture. Dane and Robbie knew all the players, the teams and the coaches as well as their strengths and weaknesses. To get sideline info Robbie pulled a trailer with snacks along the rows of parents lining the fields, making note of any sick or injured players. Robbie and Dane were making good money, and making sure the parents occasionally won so they’d keep coming back for more.
Then came Gahiji. She was an orphan that had escaped from a Rwandan warlord. While in the refugee camp she made a soccer ball out of garbage and tape and perfected her foot and knee coordination. With nothing else to do, she and the other children played soccer all day to escape the misery of the camp. She was brought to the United States and eventually settled in Boise. Her first question to her foster family was if they had soccer in America. She quickly became the captain of her team, and was exceptional in every position but especially gifted as goalkeeper. Her speed and ability to read the other kids made it almost impossible to get a ball past her. If the team needed to score some points, they would change her to a field position where she would quickly rack up several goals. She was unstoppable as well as popular among all the teams. She was never mean, didn’t hurt other players, and was an unfailing good sport with a quick smile and happy disposition. She was thrilled to be able to play a game she loved without the fear of being shot or worse, and she loved her new home in America.
But she was bad news for Robbie and Dane. Everyone betted on Gahiji’s team to win. Even as they adjusted the point spread, the parents were slowly bleeding Dane and Robbie dry. That little Rwandan refugee had ruined their business.
“We have to do something about her,” Robbie intoned.
“What do you want to do, go Tonya Harding on her?” Dane laughed.
“Maybe. If we could get away with it,” Robbie said.
“You want to try to break a little kid’s knee with a bat? You don’t think that might seem a bit suspicious? Not to mention unoriginal?” Dane replied.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Robbie asked.
Dane paused. “I don’t remember. It seems like the whole thing went sideways. And most importantly they figured out who did it.”
Robbie looked out over the soccer fields. “Maybe we could poison her?”
“Kill a kid? They’d figure that out for sure. Especially since she’s popular. If we took out one of the loser kids, they’d hardly notice, but Gahiji is a star,” Dane said.
“Not kill, just make it so she’d miss a game. It would only take one game to make us whole. The parents are greedy, so we narrow the point spread, they think they have a sure win but uh-oh, little Gahiji is curled up on the sidelines.”
“Have you ever poisoned anybody before?” Dane asked.
“Roaches, rats–my uncle used to attach a hose to his tailpipe to kill gophers. Then later he did it to himself. Aunt Mona never got over it. Had to sell the car,” Robbie said.
“Try Googling ‘how to make someone sick’ and see what you get,” Dane said. Robbie searched his phone as Dane handed out juice and Hot Pockets over the counter.
“Let’s see, antifreeze, rubbing alcohol, laxative overdose, clove oil, drain cleaner, oven cleaner, pepper spray—there’s tons of stuff,” Robbie said.
“What about just putting vodka in something? Just make her drunk so she couldn’t play,” Dane suggested.
“Or Everclear! You just need a tiny bit and it has hardly any taste. My cousin used to drink it because his parole officer couldn’t smell it on his breath. We could put it in a juice box or power drink, easy,” Robbie retorted.
Dane pondered for a moment. “That could work. But how do we get her to drink it, and not get blamed?”
“What if we used a syringe and injected it into her water bottle? Easy peasy!” Robbie said.
“So you don’t think walking along the sidelines, carrying a syringe and asking to borrow Gahiji’s water bottle would look a little strange?” Dane asked.
“Hey, there are no bad ideas in brainstorming.” The two men continued to hand food and drinks to customers as they discussed their plan, certain that the parents paid no attention to them.
“What if they bring the bottle to us?” Dane proposed.
“Why would they do that?” Robbie said.
“If we started offering free ice water, some kind of fancy shit, with electrolytes and vitamins all the parents would want to fill up, right?” Dane said.
“Yeah. Nobody likes free stuff better than rich people,” Robbie said. “But won’t we lose money?”
“I have a recipe in mind that will cost next to nothing,” Dane said.
The next weekend they put their plan in motion. Word quickly spread and parents began lining up for the free vitamin water. Dane’s recipe included tap water with a little salt, lots of sugar plus dissolved No-Doze tablets.
Gahiji’s parents were easy to spot because they were treated like celebrities. When they handed over her bottle, Robbie marked it with ink that would glow beneath the black light he’d mounted under the counter. They simply had to watch for it to light up, pour in some Everclear and let the magic happen.
They decided to give it a few weeks, so that everyone could get used to the water and know that it was perfectly safe. As predicted, the parents became demanding about the free drink. They complained about the line yet still bought plenty of food, leaving the tip jar empty.
The fateful day arrived and Dane and Robbie put out word that they were narrowing the point spread because they heard a rumor Gahiji had sprained her ankle. But when the gambling parents saw her tending goal and running with her usual skill, they decided to bet big. The kids usually played three games per day, and as Gahiji’s team kept winning by the usual wide margins, the parents kept increasing their bets.
“It’s working,” Robbie said.
Dane was freaking out. “I’m growing a goddamn tumor, man. That kid better get sick fast or we’ll have to disappear into Mexico or a Florida swamp or something.” Dane was sweaty and pale, “We’ll never cover these bets if we lose.”
“Stay strong, man. Go big or go home, right? Besides, if we have to make a run for it we are literally sitting inside a getaway car loaded with food. We can go anywhere.” Robbie said.
“Sleeping in a food truck and living off Hot Pockets and energy paste isn’t the life I pictured for myself,” Dane replied.
It was the break between the second and third game, and parents once again lined up for the free vitamin water. Dane handed Robbie a bottle, clearing this throat.
“What?” Robbie said, crouched by the spigot.
“The bottle,” Dane said out of the side of his mouth.
“What? What are you saying, I can’t understand?” Robbie said.
“The bottle. It’s the bottle!” Dane yelled, and immediately drew a panicked breath, looking over the line of parents and forcing a smile.
“Relax man, I’m just messing with you. They can’t hear anything we say in here. I’ve been scanning all the bottles. This one has the UV ink,” Robbie said. He had a squeeze bottle of Everclear ready to go, shooting two long squirts into Gahiji’s bottle. Dane handed it back to her mother with a forced smile and shakily took the next empty bottle.
“I’m losing it man,” Dane said to Robbie, “this is bad. We poisoned a kid. They put you away for a long time if you hurt a kid. This is a mistake.”
Robbie stood and grabbed Dane by the shoulders and shook him, “Calm down! Take a fucking breath!” As he did so, he noticed several of the parents watching him. He thought quickly, then said loudly enough for everyone to hear “I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SUPPORT THESE KIDS! I LOVE THEM TOO, AND THEIR SPORT IS SUCH A GREAT THING FOR THEM! BUT WE’RE FILLING THE BOTTLES AS FAST AS WE CAN!” Robbie smiled at the parents, “Sorry folks, we’ll get all the bottles filled before the next games start.”
Robbie and Dane kept a close eye on Gahiji for any signs that the alcohol might be slowing her down. The end of the first quarter approached, but she seemed her same old amazing self.
“It’s not working. We need to pack up the truck and get out of here!” Dane said.
“Give it a little time. She’s probably not thirsty yet,” Robbie said, trying to cover his worry. Then at the end of the second quarter they heard a scream from the far end of Gahiji’s field. It was followed by more screams then a howl like and angry hyena. Parents rushed the field. Dane and Robbie couldn’t see anything through the mob of parents
A mother ran to the food truck, leaning hard against the counter. Her head was bleeding. “I need a first aid kit!”
Robbie reached under the counter, moving aside boxes of napkins and cups in the purple glow of the black light, finally finding a metal box with a red cross on it. “Got it!” he said, holding it up triumphantly. Inside he found two band aids and an empty tube of Neosporin. He reached back under the counter and handed the lady fistful of napkins and a juicebox for good measure. Before she could take it, she screamed and ran off toward the parking lot. People were screaming and running in all directions to get away from Gahiji. She appeared just a few yards in front of the food truck holding her bloody soccer shoes in each hand, the metal spikes dripping with blood. Her eyes were wild, and she hunched in anger like an animal just freed from its cage. She lunged at anyone who came near, easily jumping aside as lumbering middle-aged fathers tried to catch her–slashing their arms and faces for their effort.
Robbie and Dane hunkered down under the counter, holding bottles of Gatorade in each hand to defend themselves. The green fluid glowed brightly under the black light, like bottles of kryptonite.
“What the hell did you put in her water?” Dane asked.
“Just the Everclear, I swear!” Robbie replied.
“Well something went pretty damn haywire! I never seen nobody react to alcohol like that!” Dane said.
“Yeah, that kid’s a mean drunk,” Robbie observed. A loud thump smacked against the side of the food truck, causing them both to jump.
“That had to be a parent, right? Too big to be the kid,” Dane said.
“Probably somebody not watching where they were running,” Robbie hoped. “So what do we do now?”
“We lay low until the cops arrive! That’s the first thing they teach you in a situation like this! Run away, hunker down, block the doors, and call for help!” Dane said.
“She’s just a kid, we could probably tackle her. We’d be heroes!” Robbie said.
“Do you hear all that screaming and crying out there? No way. We stay here and let everything settle down,” said Dane.
“Do you think they’ll count the game as a loss or a forfeit?” Robbie asked.
***
It turned out that Gahiji had been a child soldier before she’d been rescued and placed in the refugee camp. Her warlord made all the soldiers drink a fermented brew of honey and coca leaves which kept them drunk and wildly alert. Gahiji had been drinking Robbie and Dane’s vitamin water all day, and was hopped up on caffeine. Once she had the Everclear, she flashed back to her time as a soldier and saw the opposing team and anyone who tried to stop her attack as the enemy. The police were called, and when they discovered her supernatural strength, agility and resistance to pepper spray Officer Robert Lesman feared the zombie apocalypse was upon them. But the Taser took her right down. She was restrained, taken to a hospital, and recovered the next day not remembering what had happened. Gahiji was allowed to return to play, but had to wear shackles keeping her hands at her waist.
Thanks to the chaos of Gahiji’s flashback, nobody noticed when Robbie and Dane drove away from the sports complex that day. They had collected over forty thousand dollars and decided to leave the state and use the money to start a legitimate business. They used Dane’s formula and built a sports drink empire. In honor of Officer Lesman’s concern about Gahiji being a zombie they called it Monster Energy Drinks, Incorporated.