Mayhem in a Pill - Cover

Mayhem in a Pill

Copyright© 2015 by Shinerdrinker

Chapter 33: A Man of Wealth and Taste

A Man of Wealth and Taste

Raymond Murphy had trouble keeping the smile off his face. His son Tim was going on and on about how cool it was being on the sidelines for the varsity football win against the Clark Cougars. The first half of football featured an unsure Roosevelt team going up against a Clark team who, though good, was not up to their usual standards and was going to have a down year. Roosevelt was not expected to make the playoffs.

“I’m telling you, Dad, Frank Robinson looked like a man possessed at the half. They all played like a completely different team. Dad, the change was palpable.” Tim ‘Mayhem’ Murphy was practically bouncing up and down in his chair as he explained to his father how the new offense worked like a charm during their drive home.

“Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

The slow jazz his father liked to listen to when he needed to calm down was playing on the radio. That is what Ray needed on those rough days when the last thing he wanted to do was pour all of that hard day at work onto his family. If the slow jazz didn’t work, the classic rock station saw the return engagement of Rockin’ Ray on the karaoke mic. Luckily, no one heard him, and he just sang along with whatever song was playing. Both Murphys started to smile when the song after the commercial started on the classic rock station as they both knew the words, inside and out.


Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and taste
I’ve been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man’s soul to waste


The woo-woos were properly sung from both sides of the car, and the excess energy was properly burned off once they reached home.

Tim walked to his room, turned on the desk lamp, and blew Cindy a kiss. He started to undress and then smiling when he remembered the great feeling of the locker room after the win. It seemed like nobody could stop talking about the feeling of the win and the way it seemed every single person on the sideline, from coach to player to team trainers and equipment managers, all upped their efforts, and the product of that extra work was visible on the field – especially on the final scoreboard.

In the shower, Tim lathered up his hair, preparing to wash the sweat and locker room smell out of it. His thoughts soon left the euphoria of the game win and drifted to remembering every single detail of his tryst with his English teacher, Julianne Holmes. He remembered the smell of her hair, the feel of her naked skin, and the taste of her sweat as he kissed some of the collected drops away from various spots on her body. He knew for a fact he had not missed any spot on her body while he was kissing her. Now he was stroking his hard member, and the shampoo served as a welcome lubricant. He saw the look of pure ecstasy in her eyes when she orgasmed. He imagined it looked a lot like the look on his own face.

He used the removable shower head from the wall and washed his spend down the wall and into the drain. He felt he could go again but decided he would rather finish his shower and get to bed. Maybe he could dream some more about his teacher/lover. Maybe he could talk her into introducing him to her girlfriends he saw sunbathing at the pool in her apartment complex.

After indulging in that little fantasy, he found he needed the shower head to wash away the evidence again. “Wow! Thanks to that pill, the spank bank is a whole new animal,” he thought to himself.

He got back to his room and turned on the late replay of the news before going to bed and was just in time to see the football coverage for the San Antonio area. Tim figured the win would be covered, but there were other games considered more important for playoff seeding. The Roosevelt vs. Clark game was a battle between two solid, but unimportant, teams in the playoff races in Texas. Tim’s amusement shot high when he saw his friend Frank Robinson howling at the full moon, the scoreboard visible behind him.


“Hello and welcome back to the show. Saturday night’s high school football might not seem as exciting as Friday’s, but tonight’s game between Clark and Roosevelt prove that wrong. Let’s take you to the battle out at Comalander Stadium. The game is one that does not usually rank high on the list of must-watch games for the playoffs and for college recruiting but, tonight, the Rough Riders put on a show. Let’s check out the highlights on a perfect night for football.

“It was a battle of two halves, for sure. Rumors were flying all over the internet that Roosevelt had finally decided to change up their old-school style of offense – run on first, second, third and fourth down – to a variation of the spread formations prevalent not only in high school but also in college football today.

“The Roosevelt squad has been featured in the news recently for several things not football related. They lost last week - badly - and a recording of what the opposing team was saying during the game was heard. This caused the Warren Warriors to dismiss several players from the team, including many starters and the team captains as well. Then other students in Roosevelt varsity jackets were busted at some late night parties that got completely out of hand. Luckily, the team was exonerated from any wrongdoing. Then, this week, the rumors of Roosevelt’s long-time coach changing his offense from the slow and steady option running game he had perfected into the more fanciful one used by more and more schools: the spread offense.

“The Riders and Cougars started the first half slow with neither team able to take control of the game. The first half ended with the Riders scoring this twenty-seven-yard field goal as the clock ran out. Then there occurred what could only be compared to infamous halftime speeches like Knute Rockne’s ‘win one for the Gipper’ speech because the Riders ran rough all over the Cougars and won 45-14 for their first win of the year.


Tim turned off the TV then realized he had forgotten to turn his phone back on since turning it off as he got on the bus for the game. There were several texts from friends reporting they saw him standing with the players on the sideline and were trying to decipher what that meant. He did have one voicemail from an unknown phone number, though, and he decided to go ahead and listen to the message.

“Hi, Tim, It’s Julianne. Just calling to congratulate you on being promoted to the JV and being on the sidelines for tonight’s game. Um, give me a call when you can. I’ll be up late doing some work, but would be more than willing to stop and talk. Um, okay, call me. Bye.”

Tim listened to the message again because he was busy freaking out when he heard who left him the message. It was after midnight, and he figured she would probably be asleep. He would just leave her a message and talk to her in the morning.

The phoned was answered after the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hi, Julie, this is Tim returning your call.”

“Hi, Tim. Thanks for calling back. I’m really glad you did.”

“Well, so am I. Um, I’m sorry about calling so late. I figured you would be asleep already, and I was going to leave you a message.”

“Oh, it’s alright. Um, I hear the team won this morning, and you were once again the star. I also heard you hurt your knee or something. Is that right? Are you okay?”

“Oh, no. There were a couple of guys from Clark who looked like they tried to take me out of the game by hurting my knee. Now, I can’t prove they were doing that but, like Adam Sandler said in The Waterboy, ‘They tried to open up a can of whoop ass on me, but I didn’t let them.’”

Julianne laughed. “Well, I’m glad you aren’t hurt.” The line was quiet for a few seconds. “Tim, when do you think we can meet up again?”

“In all truthfulness, Julie, I wish I was right there with you right now but, realistically, I’m not sure when we can work out another time for us to meet. Maybe sometime this upcoming week, like sometime during the week. I lied to my mom when you picked me up by telling her I was going to help a friend with his homework. That will only work so many times.”

“Yeah, I can understand that but, I mean, are you okay with lying to your mom?” Julianne was getting worried that Tim would not want to risk anything to meet her. She was quickly working herself up to worrying about giving in to this man too soon and sleeping with him too early.

“Oh no, um ... Julie ... of course I don’t like lying to her, but I’m not really doing anything really wrong, but I can tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t wait to get my license so you won’t have to come as my friend’s older sister to pick me up and bring me to her house to help her little brother with math homework,” he said.

Both laughed at that joke, and Tim was relieved she found it funny. Julianne was comforted that he wasn’t the type of guy who would sleep with someone and then, after getting that, not wanting to continue the relationship.

“I guess all moms have the unique power of being able to recognize when their child is lying to them. Now, the other night, I was able to get away because I never looked at her when I was lying. I’m terrible at lying. I’ve never been able to do it person-to-person. I’m like an open book and, when I lie, alarms go off – bright flashing lights appear from behind my head and start strobing. I’m still amazed, though, that I got away with it that night.”

“Well, don’t over-analyze it. What did you tell her? You were going to help a friend with his homework?”

“Yeah.”

“She saw me drive up?”

“Well, she saw a girl drive up.”

“Okay, and how did you cover it? If I remember correctly, you said something about a sister.”

“Yep. Bullseye.”

“Well, that worked. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to live with her human lie-detecting machine working twenty-four/seven.”

Julie laughed, and Tim found it mesmerizing. “Don’t worry, but I think I can give you something else to think about.” Tim did not pick up the hearty amount of innuendo his English teacher had just dished out. “I want to know what you think I am wearing at this very moment.”

Tim was not a stupid person – not even before the pill was he that stupid – but, at this moment, the hard left turn in the conversation from talking about lying to his mother to what the most beautiful woman he had ever met was currently wearing had him flummoxed, It was not easy to connect the dots, but he soon did and tried to play it cool. All his inner monologue was currently doing, though, was singing “Boobies. Boobies. Buh boo boo buh boobies.”

“Yes. I’m in my bedroom, sitting at my desk, grading papers, but I already took a shower and got myself ready to go to bed. So, what do you think I’m wearing at this very moment?” she asked again, the seductive and throaty voice she used when they were alone was coming through loud and clear over the phone line.

Tim began pouring himself into bed and turned the lamp off. He began stroking himself while making himself comfortable in bed. “Well, let me see. Did you actually put anything on after showering, or did you just decide to grade au naturel?” Tim was attempting to match his teachers’ concupiscent tone.

“No, no, no, silly boy; no nude grading.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t care what you are wearing because you will not be wearing it for long when I come in the room.” Tim heard her suck in a quick breath of air at the quick way her young lover was able to turn the conversation to him being the dominant. “I would either have to slowly untie it from your shoulder or ... what I would really like to do is just rip it to shreds without using my hands at all before we get into the bed together.”

Now both were revved up and ready for a stimulating conversation.


Thirty minutes later, both were sweating profusely, and both were breathing rapid gasps of breath from their auditory encounter. Julie was quietly giggling to herself because she was debating whether or not she should change the sheets or just grab a couple of towels to sleep on, and Tim was cleaning himself and the desk chair off as a dripping glob made its way down the television screen – the television on the other side of the room, a good six to eight feet away.

When Julie got her wind back and could focus her attention on something other than her orgasm, she reunited with her phone and heard a lot of giggling coming over the phone. “Why are you giggling?”

“What?” he asked while confused once again by the way she would ask questions that seemed to come from far left field. Fortunately, he was also regaining his senses after coming back down from the orgasmic high.

“Oh, nothing,” he giggled again. “I had just seen that when I finished – I mean when I came,” he explained, sounding very embarrassed, “I actually hit the TV across the room! When I looked, there was a milky white trail going from Canada to New Mexico and it was pushing a weak polar front that will hit tomorrow afternoon.”

After the cleansing laugh from the two, Julianne decided to try and nail down a time to see her lover. “Tim, while that was amazing, I really want to see you again ... you know, in person.”

“Likewise, Julie, but we have to wait until you find out if I can test out of the class or if I just need to transfer. The pressure of having to sit in your class and not be able to hold you is gonna be tough. I can do it, but only for a few days. I’m not Superman, despite what the internet world of high school football says about me.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. You have a gift, and that gift will get you into college and out into the world. I have a feeling, Mayhem, that you are going to have an incredible life, and I can’t wait to see it, first-hand, by your side.” Julie suddenly felt like she went over the line and immediately worried she might have pushed him too far. She could not lose her man! She had just found him!

“I understand how you feel, Julie, and I would love to have you around as well, but I, for one, would like to take you on a date rather than just keep meeting up for sex.” He realized what he said might push her away, so he quickly added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, either. I mean, I love what we have. It’s just we have to see how everything is going to work, and I will fight to find out.”

“I’ll fight, too,” Julie responded thankful they were thinking about this relationship in the same way.

“Well, I have to go,” he grumbled.

“Oh, can’t you talk for a while more?”

“Well, Julie, I am pretty tired. I mean, I played a whole football game this morning then had to move lockers from the freshman to the JV side, and then I had to go to the varsity game and stand with the team,” Tim expressed, but he quickly had an idea. “But do you wanna know the real reason I need some sleep?”

“What?”

“I have to go to school in the morning, Miss Holmes.”

They both hung up, giggling.


“Hello,” the tired man answered the phone without reading the caller id.

“Hey, dude, it’s Todd. Well, how’d it go?”

“Oh, hey, Todd. How’d what go?”

“Your trip to San Antonio and your side trip to see a certain freshman football phenom! Can you confirm what the internet has been saying about this kid or what?”

Kevin Thomas was the co-host of Dave Campbell’s Texas Football daily podcast and had reported Friday along with his co-host, Todd Dunsmore, on the trials and tribulations hitting the Roosevelt high school football program – from large-scale, in-game racial harassment on the football field to changing long-held traditions, to the possible rising of a football superstar. San Antonio Roosevelt’s football team and coaches were going through a year’s worth of change in just under a week. Kevin’s neurons finally started firing, and he was catching up to what his friend and co-host was asking.

“The trip was fine. Doc says the blood results were good, so I’m healthy as a mule. Just as I figured, it was some sort of bug ‘cause, like I told you before I left, I was already feeling much better.”

“That’s freakin’ great, dude. Congrats,” Todd offered with deep sincerity.

“Thanks, man. Oh yeah, and this kid, Murphy, looks like he might be the real deal.”

“Explain, please, and go into graphic detail.” Todd’s giddiness was easy to hear over the phone. “I want details and color all over this. Did you get any film for the ‘cast?”

“Oh, yeah. I got some good film of one play in particular, but first, lemme tell ya, this kid definitely looks like the real deal. First of all, he is built like a platinum brick shithouse.”

“Okay, that’s a strange metaphor, but I think I understand where you are going with it,” Todd chortled. “Please continue, if you would.”

“Oh, shut up. Now, like I was saying, this kid looks the part. He is over six feet tall, easily. Hell, I have trouble calling him kid. He looked like an NFL player who decided to suit up and play against a Pop Warner team. He jacked up everybody. He destroyed every attempt to block him, and he just annihilated any offensive snap Clark tried. They tried running at him, around him, away from him. Dude, nothing worked. They even tried to take him out of the game.”

“Whoa. What makes you think that?” Todd challenged.

“A couple of Clark lineman started going for his knees. It looked like they succeeded. I saw his knee go one way and his leg go the other when three blockers hit him in that same knee at the same time – two hitting his legs and a third trying to force his body into a different direction. He came out for a little while, but I could see him stamping his foot on the ground like he was trying to wake up his foot or something,” Kevin explained.

“Wow. Okay. So that explains what the bloggers have been going on about.”

“Okay? Well now, what’re you talkin’ about?”

“Get online and take a look. I think we gave the internet the idea last week for the Saturday morning football game out in San Antonio. You weren’t the only reporter who was there. There were enough bloggers there covering it to make it look like it was a state championship. A couple sites are showing the same shaky, Bigfoot-esque film work of a big pileup of bodies. Then Murphy was being helped off the field but, after a couple of steps, he made it back to the sidelines under his own power but, like I said, there’s no clean footage of someone going after his knees.”

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