Dwayne asked the boys to take a seat on the bench.

"Normally, we'd be out in the field for our postgame talk," he said, turning and pointing to where the other team was still attempting to figure out what the h.e.l.l had just happened. "But today, there's too much trash on the field. So we'll do it here."

Dwayne glared out at Pastor Jim from the dugout. Pastor Jim was glaring back. Dwayne shot him a quick middle finger. The pastor scowled.

"You did good today, team," Dwayne continued. "We lost a key player early on, and you banded together and carried the weight. Alex, I'm proud of you for standing up for Jackson. That's what soldiers do in the game of baseball. That's called honor. That's called brotherhood."

"They whipped out their p.e.c.k.e.rs and tried to p.i.s.s all over you boys," Russ interrupted, slurring horribly. "And you pulled out a G.o.dd.a.m.n umbrella and blocked that s.h.i.t! Ain't n.o.body gonna p.i.s.s on these boys! Am I right?!"

Russ threw a hand up and looked around for a high five. Tommy finally gave him one out of pity. Dwayne a.n.a.lyzed the level at which the Tigers parents were offended and decided that they should have been used to it by now.

"There's a code that we can live by as we grow, men," Dwayne said to the boys, and he hoped his fellow coaches would realize that he was speaking to them as well. "It's a choice we make to follow this code. I can see you beginning to grasp it. I'm glad to see that. It's a ninja code. It's a Jedi code. It's a superhero code. And let me tell you ... it works. And you are beginning to exemplify that code. The code is pretty simple: Don't take s.h.i.t from anyone, and don't give s.h.i.t to anyone who doesn't deserve it. Play the game of life and the game of baseball with honor."

It was silent in the dugout. The boys let Dwayne's words permeate their brains.

"Here's the thing, boys," Dwayne continued. "Let this sink in: the playoffs are double elimination, and-"

"That's different than double penetration, in case you were wondering," Russ added. He raised his arm up in search of a high five again, but this time he found no takers.

"Jesus Christ, Russ, maybe you should just tell some abortion jokes," Steve offered in disgust.

"That's it! I can't do this anymore!" Holly Dale yelled. "Ace, get your bag! I'm reporting these coaches to the league! We're leaving!"

"Be quiet, Mom!" Ace snapped back. "Coach Dwayne is speaking."

Russ put the whistle in his mouth, but Tommy ripped it out before he could blow.

Dwayne reached his hand out to Ace for a fist b.u.mp. He was beginning to like the kid.

"Like I was saying, the playoffs are double elimination. There's only one more game before the championship. That means that whether we win or lose our next game, we will be playing in the championship game this Sat.u.r.day. I don't expect to lose our next game. The team we just played will most likely be the one we play on Sat.u.r.day. And they will play harder next time. They will play dirtier next time. But if you continue to follow the code, we will destroy them. There will be blood ... and blood makes the gra.s.s grow."

Dwayne could see the intense excitement growing inside them.

"NOW BRING IT IN, TIGERS! TIGERS KILL, ON THREE!"

Dwayne screamed with a fire in his eyes.

"ONE ... TWO ... THREE ... TIGERS KILL!!!"

On their way to the parking lot, after everyone had gathered their things, Russ handed Tommy and Kelly each a bottle of ice-cold water. "There ya go, Tom," Russ said. "That's a little apology gift from me for slipping you acid on the golf course this morning."

"That's sweet, Russ," Kelly replied. Tommy was still about 80 percent unable to speak.

Russ failed to mention to Tommy and Kelly that he had dosed each of their water bottles with roofies.

After dinner that night, Dwayne walked Alex upstairs to his bedroom and tucked him into bed. He told his son how proud he was for standing up to Noah. Alex told his dad how much fun he'd been having since he took over the team. He begged his dad to coach every year.

"I'll do it, son," Dwayne told him. "I promise."

Estelle didn't need to do much to coax Dwayne into the shower that night. She merely stripped off her clothes slowly and silently, staring at Dwayne the whole time, and glanced back over her shoulder at him as she walked away into the master bathroom. There was something about her-that glow that came from being pregnant, perhaps; it made him forget about how tired he was, and how concerned he was that their world might come crashing down.

Estelle finally pa.s.sed out cold after making love to Dwayne three times. Dwayne couldn't sleep. He climbed out of bed, making sure not to wake his sleeping beauty, and made his way into his closet. He pulled down the large box containing his Batman outfit and put the costume on.

The large bat went to the kitchen and grabbed a six-pack of beer. He then walked to the medicine cabinet and reached up to the back corner until his hands found his stash of weed. Dwayne then took great care in meticulously rolling a perfect joint.

He crept outside into his garage and found his ladder and, making as little noise as possible, placed it up against the side of his house. Purposefully, he climbed up onto the roof, to the highest point, and looked out around the neighborhood. He understood the symbolism of how profound and n.o.ble a silhouette he was probably casting against the large Texas moon. The wind blowing through his cape humbled him.

Dwayne looked all around in every direction, drinking his beer and sparking up his joint. He could smell the humidity forming in the air and hear the growing rustle of the leaves in the trees. He watched the wind carry the pot smoke a few houses away before it finally broke apart into nothing. The clouds offered a gentle rumble. There was a flash of light off in the distance.

A storm was coming.

The next morning, as the sun came piping through Tommy's bedroom window, a shrill shriek pierced the early solitude. Kelly sat up on her side of the bed, gasping. Tommy leapt up, thinking someone must have been dead for her to make such a sound.

"WHAT THE f.u.c.k, TOM?!" she yelled.

Laying totally nude on top of the covers between a totally nude Kelly and Tommy Johnson was Russ Paisley. He was smiling, face up, with his hands clasped behind his head.

"WHAT THE f.u.c.k, RUSS?!" Tommy screamed.

"Oh, come on now, you two," Russ bragged as he sparked up a cigarette. "Don't go pulling that walk of shame stuff with me! You couldn't get enough of my raw s.e.xuality last night!"

"Sweet JESUS, Russ! What did you do?!" Tommy barked.

"What did I do? h.e.l.l, what didn't I do?" Russ laughed. "You guys wanna go again? My little fella is waking up!"

Kelly shot a glance down toward Russ's not-so-flaccid yet tiny p.e.n.i.s and began to dry heave. She got up and sprinted toward the bathroom, where she could be heard seconds later emptying her stomach into the toilet.

"Jesus, Russ! What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you? This is so wrong! I don't remember anything! G.o.ddammit, what did you do to us?" Tommy frantically prodded.

"I got even, b.i.t.c.h! That's what I did! Doesn't feel so good now, does it? I was the cream filling in a s.e.xy chocolate cookie last night! And oh my G.o.d, Kelly is amazing!"

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

Kelly came wobbling out of the bathroom. Russ jumped up on the end of the bed and began bouncing to twirl his microscopic manhood around beneath his flabby ma.s.s of a hairy stomach. "You know you loved it, Kelly," Russ goaded with a wanton snarl. "You motorboated my belly b.u.t.ton last night when things got kinky."

Kelly raced back to the toilet and began to throw up again. Tommy hurled a pillow at Russ's face, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward off the bed.

"You crossed the line, Russ! You had nonconsensual s.e.x with my wife, bro!"

"Not just your wife, Tom!"

Tommy's jaw dropped open. He clasped his hand over his mouth.

"That's it, I'm getting my gun!" Tommy yelled as he bolted out of his bed and headed for the closet.

Russ took off running, grabbing his clothes along the way. Tommy wasn't far behind. He burst through the front door, nude and brandishing a pistol, as Russ's Ferrari rumbled to life and peeled out sideways down the street.

Tommy moseyed slowly back toward his front door, paying little attention to the elderly couple next door shaking their heads in disappointment as they walked their Shih Tzu.

Tommy could hear his phone beeping on his nightstand, alerting him to a text message, when he strolled back into house. Russ had started the text chain back up.

RUSS:.

I bet your neighbors are happy they let a black guy move in. Way to go against the stereotype, waving a gun around naked in your yard. Maybe you should blast some rap music and drink some purple soda.

TOMMY:.

YOU WENT TOO FAR, RUSS!.

STEVE:.

Oh lord, what did he do now?

TOMMY:.

He had s.e.x with my wife!

RUSS:.

I got all up in Tommy too.

STEVE:.

Didn't you have s.e.x with Russ's wife, Tom?

TOMMY:.

Stay out of this, Steve!