Page 4 - Way Out to the Old Ballgame

World Series

“Yes, yes, by all means. But don’t let him wake up. He’ll die of
fright, the weakling!”
Commissioner Bosconi suddenly understood that he was being
required to act in an official capacity. “All right, gentlemen. Now,
have you followed the procedure for filing a complaint with the
league office?”
“League office? What the hell are you talking about? This is the
seventh game of the World Series. You’ve got to decide who won the
game.” Manager Korok clacked his jointed mandibles like castanets.
“Eh? I don’t understand...is the regular season over already?”
Bosconi was perplexed. Maybe it was time to wake up. But he
couldn’t scare himself enough to break the spell, despite the alarming
information about the opposing managers provided by his peripheral
vision: each occupied more than one of the box seats, the Writher
overflowing into the next row, as well.
“Perhaps you could restate the problem,” Bosconi equivocated. “I
can’t seem to find my notes.”
Manager Korok gargled and spat something lumpier than tobacco
juice. “Bah! Pay attention, then, Commissioner! The game is Earth’s,
but the players aren’t. You, the ultimate arbiter of baseball disputes,
must declare a winner.”
Bosconi fought through the haze in his brain to establish linguistic
control of his vocal cords. “I see. The Writhers and Arthrodonts.
Somebody else’s World Series. A protest. I see. Well, gentlemen, I am
only authorized to hear complaints dealing with the National and
American Leagues. Therefore I suggest you contact the major league
office on this planet for the name of—”
The Writher pushed three of his heads in Bosconi’s face. The
commissioner flinched and gagged; an old memory flooded his mind:
the smell when he had opened a jar of sauerkraut which had been
resting unobserved for several years in the back of his mother’s
icebox. “Nothing,” growled admiral-cum-manager Lussessi, “is on
this planet but our teams and the stadium; we sterilized it thoroughly
first. It is neutral territory, an arena for non-destructive combat
between our species.”
“Oh.”

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