The Next Day
You wake up at 9 and get dressed into some black shorts and a blue t-shirt, the team's colour, and head down to have some breakfast and say good morning to your folks before they head out.
At 9:30 you're a bit worried that Mike isn't up. But he's probably awake and lying in bed, or just getting up, so you'll wait a bit longer.
15 minutes pass and still no noise from upstairs. You go up and enter Mike's room to see that he's still sleeping, face down, drooling.
"MIKE!" You shout and push against his shoulder to stir him," Wake up!"
"No," mumbles Mike.
"Yes," You answer pushing on him to get moving, isn't really working well," We have to go to football practice."
"We have plenty of time," Mike answers without opening his eyes.
"It's 9:55," you lie.
Mike's eyes bolt open and looks at his alarm clock and see it's only 9:45 and turns around with amazing speed and gets you into a headlock.
"That got your attention," you choke out with grip of Mike's arm around you, and the BO.
"That's what you get," Mike says and gives you a kidney shot and drops you onto his bed and climbs out and pulls his boxers up to cover his butt crack and grabs a t-shirt and shorts and heads to the shower while you gasp for breath.
Is the Wishing Powder worth this? you ask yourself.
A bit later Mike, still wet from the shower, rushes you into his red truck and speeds down the street to the park.
You arrive at the park to see other big guys on the field and a guy with a gou-t wearing a muscle shirt and track pants, Mike points him out as the coach of the team, you're sent to talk to him. He gives you a crash course in what you'll be doing, apparently you're also the towel boy, first aid assistant, and the Coach's lackey.
Soon enough the practice starts. During the practice you're squirted with Gaiter Aid, whacked with towels, tackled, hit in the head with the football, slapped in the face by the coach by accident, and trip over a rock.
By the time you go home you swear Mike's red truck also has white on it like an Ambulance.
When you get home Mike brags about the catch he made to win the practice game and slaps you on the back, causing you more pain. You somehow crawl into the bathtub and take a nice long hot bath and look over your new bruises and cuts.
Is this job worth it?
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