Meeting of the Minds

[Johnny Damon enters an empty golf course, freckled with golden tees. A cold wind blows. He stands, waiting. A turtlenecked figure emerges from the shadows.]

JD: Hey, Mr. S! What's shakin'? [ He extends his hand.]

GS: SILENCE, FOOL. On your knees!

JD: [muttering as he kneels] Fuck, I thought that was just a rumor.

GS: WHAT WAS THAT?

JD: Nothing...s-sir.

GS: ARE YOU LOOKING DIRECTLY AT ME?

JD: N-no.

GS: [extends his arm, showing off a large, glittering diamond] YOU MAY KISS THE RINGj

JD: Uh, okay. [kisses the ring]

GS: ARE YOU READY TO BECOME A TRUE YANKEE, FOOL?

JD: You bet I am!

GS: [reaches under his turtleneck to produce a vial. He extends a liver-spotted hand in front of Damon's head, motioning it toward the vial. Smoky strands of red exit Damon's body.] AH, YES.

JD: Geez, what the fuck is that...sir?

GS: YOUR SOUL.

JD: Cool.

GS: [corks the vial, then produces another from under his turtle neck. It is bigger, filled with burned rubber, brownish water, and chest hair. He uncorks it.] DRINK THIS NOW.

JD: [smells the contents] Uuakgh, it stinks.

GS: THAT IS ESSENSE OF JERSEY, FOOL. YOU WILL LEARN TO LIKE IT.

JD: [quaffs the vial, choking and sputtering] Ugha....ALL OTHER TEAMS ARE INFERIOR. MAKING THE ALL-STAR TEAM MEANS NOTHING IF I DO NOT IT AS A YANKEE. I WILL WEAR A 3 DIGIT JERSEY BECAUSE THE NUMBERS OF ALL MY TRUE YANKEE FOREFATHERS SHOULD BE RETIRED.

GS: CAN IT, FOOL. I HAVE HEARD IT BEFORE. [He kicks Damon over and exits into the shadows.]