"Yo, Sanchez, ready for the Coach's Tourny?" Sinclair asked the assistant coach as he exited his car at the bowling alley.
"Yes, sir. I've been practicing. I even got me a lucky new ball. Better weight than my old one," Sanchez said as Chad the bowling ball rolled in the bag with smelly shoes and stinky socks.
Sanchez! Screamed Chad's mind from inside its spherical prison.
"Good," said Sinclair biting his lip. Sanchez was a good coach, but a lousy bowler. Maybe his new ball will help. He continued as he opened the bowling alley door, "Let's get some practice sets in before the guys from North Town get here."
"You go ahead, I just have to stop off and get my ball drilled," Sanchez said.
"Drilled?" Sinclair asked. How could Sanchez have practiced with a bowling ball without holes?
"Oh. My ball has holes, just the thumb hole is a bit tight," Sanchez replied noting the look on Sinclair's face.
Drilled? Your thumb hole is my penis hole! Please don't do this! Chad's mind shrieked.
"Okay," said Sinclair shaking his head slightly.
The bowling alley clerk measured Sanchez' thumb and fingers, and convinced him to enlarge both the middle finger and thumb holes.
Chad would have screamed like a woman and sobbed uncontrollably. It was worse than dental work without anesthesia. The cold metal bit bore into his urethra, and shredded it. The heat and pain were unbearable. He just wanted to cry, but being a blue bowling ball, he couldn't. Then the guy adjusted him in the machine, and Chad's penal pain was replaced by a a burning pain in his anus.
Chad was hating on Sanchez, when the clerk suggested, "You got yourself a nice ball Coach Sanchez, you should really mark it with your name or initials."
"Good idea. How about after tonight's tournament. Coach Sinclair is waiting on me to practice," Sanchez said taking Chad in hand with his thumb and fingers in the proper holes.
Sanchez joined Sinclair and two other coaches from Chad's school.
"Good, we have time for a couple practice throws," Sinclair said as Sanchez changed his socks and shoes.
Standing at the line, Sanchez held the ball up to his face as he lined up the pins with his eyes.
He whispered, "Okay, if you want to be human again, Chad, make sure you knock down every last pin each time I throw you."
Chad was shocked. He was just a ball, what could he do?
Chad was airborne, he hit the shiny wood and started rolling. He was headed towards the gutter. He focused on the center pin. The ball began to move in an arc away from the gutter. Crash!
"Steee-rike!" Coach Sinclair shouted punching the air with his fist. "Nice spin on the ball, Sanchez. Almost thought it was a gutterball."
Dizzy Chad was relieved and amazed that he was able to hit any pins. The machine plunged him through a dark tunnel, and he emerged in the ball return striking Coach Sinclair's red and black ball.
"Go again, Tony!"
Tony grinned Sinclair almost never called him Tony. He picked Chad up, and walked up to the line.
"Noo, not ready," Chad protested by he was already airborne. Sanchez knew nothing about bowling.