Twilight Zone
A Time For A Spanking
Tim Cefola glanced at the clock as he hurried through doing the
dishes. Just a few more to go and then he'd be all ready to head
for the lanes, to bowl in his weekly evening league. His team
had been really hot as of late and first place was certainly not
out of the realm of possibility. A long moment was spent scrubbing
out the broiling pan and after a while, Tim decided the prudent
thing to do would be to simply let the darn thing soak overnight.
So, Tim folded the dishtowel neatly over the side of the sink
and made his way into his bedroom to retrieve his shoes. Ten points
out of first place, with three weeks left in the season. Each
night had ten points up for grabs because you got three points
for each game won, and if you took total wood, you got an extra
point. So as we stated earlier, first place certainly was within
reach.
Tim's thoughts were interrupted by the voice of his niece, Anne.
"Uncle Tim, can I go to the bowling alley with you to watch you
bowl tonight?" came the cheerful request. Tim thought for a moment
and asked himself if he really wanted to bring Anne along with
him. The fact was, that lately, Anne was anything but a joy to
be around. She was broody so often Tim was beginning to wonder
if it could still be called a "mood," since that term meant the
behavior was only temporary. "I never knew you had any interest
in bowling, Anne" came Tim's reply. "I mean, won't you be bored
to death after a short time?" Anne looked at her Uncle and then,
her brown eyes avoided any further direct interaction as she said,
"No. I'd really love to watch the team bowl." Tim didn't know
what else to say, so before he could think of a better response,
he heard his voice croak, "OK."
Anne smiled and romped toward her bedroom. "Honey, hurry up now.
Don't take too long because I am running a bit late as it is."
"OK Uncle Tim, I just need to make a quick phone call and I'll
be right there." Uncle Tim put his shoes on and as he was heading
for the garage, his ears picked up his niece's voice on the phone.
"Jess, I'm serious! I know that Joe will be there because his
brother told me he was taking up bowling in a league this summer."
There were a few moments of silence and then in an angry voice
Tim heard Anne say, "No, he won't ignore me and I'm not too young
for him. I'm almost 15 already and that is practically a grown
up." Anne slammed down the phone and shortly thereafter she was
in the front seat with her Uncle. As they began the 15-minute
trek to the lanes, Anne was a non-stop chatterbox. Uncle Tim noticed
that Anne was wearing a pretty short skirt and she was wearing
quite a bit of make up. A voice inside Tim's head said, "If only
this was 40 years ago, you could give this brat a dose of what
she really deserves." They continued to drive toward the lanes
with the car's radio proving to be no match for Anne's voice.
Narration:
Submitted for your approval, Tim Cefola, also known as Uncle Tim.
Along side of Uncle Tim we meet his pretty 15-year old niece,
Anne. Just a moment ago, Tim heard a voice whisper about a time
40 years ago when public views were quite different when compared
to many issues of today. Child rearing was certainly one of those
views to change over the years. However, unbeknownst to Tim, the
road that had always lead him to the bowling alley, was about
to be detoured through the Twilight Zone.
Before too long, the car entered the parking lot and Tim found
a spot not far from the front door. The two of them got out of
the car and Tim opened the trunk to retrieve his balls. Yes, he
had two of them: One for strikes and one for spares. Anne didn't
wait for her Uncle to get his balls, as she practically ran into
the bowling alley ahead of him. The young girl had other things
on her mind and Tim knew he'd have to keep one eye on the pins
and the other eye, on his niece.
Tim checked the league standings and saw his team was on lanes
13 and 14. Lane 13 had always been very good for him with regard
to score. In fact, his last series on that pair was a 674, which
boasted a high game of 247. Tim was in a really good mood and
for a while, he put Anne out of his thoughts.
The first game was a continuation of the same for Tim. He bowled
a 203 and converted a 6-7 split in the 10th frame to ice the game
for his team. Inching closer to first place little by little was
all Tim wanted to do. He knew there was still time. He just needed
to remain focused on those nasty little pins. On the other side
of the "house," (which is a bowling jargon for bowling alley),
Anne was watching 25-year-old Joe Detia warm up. Every time Joe
would throw the ball, Anne would scream for her life, especially
if the ball was anywhere near the head pin. Joe was not enjoying
Anne's antics and all he wanted was to be left alone so he could
bowl his game and get the practice he needed. Joe hadn't bowled
in a league in five years and he knew if he could throw a few
games, he would be all ready for next week, which would mark the
first week of his league. Anne's constant bellowing was making
it near impossible for him to accomplish anything at all. A few
times, Anne screamed just as Joe was in the process of releasing
the ball, the startle of her voice causing him to lose his timing.
The resulting shot was a gutter ball, with Joe falling head first
over the foul line. Anne began to laugh and Joe knew he had to
think of something, anything to get this kid away from him.
As game two took shape, Tim's luck had run out. Lane 13 was proving
to be a real unlucky 13. Four splits in the first five frames
had turned a once promising series into a battle for just pulling
out his average for the night. Tim looked up and saw a score of
64 in the 6th frame and he knew he needed a moment away from the
lanes. Just to collect his thoughts. Try as he might, he simply
couldn't get back on track and after 9 frames, his score was 111.
Yep, bowlers called a 111 the "shit house," and for good reason.
Tim was now close to 70 pins below his seasons average and to
make matters worse, this game was slowly slipping away. On the
plus side, his other teammates, Ed, Bill and Frank were bowling
quite well. The game was still close heading into the final frame
of the 2nd game, and Tim knew it might very well come down to
his turn in the 10th frame. It should be noted here that Tim was
the "anchor man." This was another bowling term that means, the
last bowler to bowl for his team. When you were the anchorman,
it usually meant that either you had the highest average on your
team, or that you were a very good clutch bowler. Either way,
being the anchorman meant you had to be ready to bowl when your
team needed you the most. And Tim knew his team was going to need
him at his best next frame. So Tim decided to take a walk to the
snack bar and get a Pepsi. The snack bar of a bowling center can
be a haven for bowlers who are having a tough night. It was the
place to go when you just had to get away from the lanes for a
moment or two. When Tim arrived at the snack bar, Joe was already
there.
Joe knew who Tim was because he had seen Tim pick Anne up from
school a few times. Joe didn't like having to say anything to
Tim, but he figured this might be his only chance of the night
to get Anne away from him so he might still be able to get in
a game or two of practice. Joe cleared his throat and said, "You
are Anne's father, aren't you?" Tim smiled and replied, "Nope.
I'm just her Uncle. Is anything wrong," Tim asked. "Look, I don't
know how to put this delicately, but Anne has been bothering me
since she got here." Joe went on to explain all that was going
on and Tim felt his anger mount. He had no idea Anne was trying
to flirt with a 25 year old. Tim promised Joe he'd come get Anne
as soon as he finished the last frame. Tim rushed back to lane
13, to find he was the last man up for both teams. The totals
were in, and Tim needed to fill 13 pins for a win. Tim lived for
this type of situation as he loved the pressure and never backed
away from it. He made a decent shot, but left up a solid 9 pin.
He took a moment and then made a good shot to convert. One shot
left and only three pins needed. He picked up his bowling towel
and rubbed the excess lane oil off the ball. He took aim and pushed
the ball forward, his arm swinging back, his eyes glued toward
his target on the lanes. Ball now in the upswing, still focused.........UNCLE
TIM!!!!!!!!!!!! Anne's shrieking voice got to Tim's ears just
as he was releasing the ball. The ball fell out of his hand and
went directly all the way to the left. His shot managed to take
out the 7 pin and his team lost by two.
Tim turned around and angrily stared at his niece. "What's the
matter with you, Anne? Didn't you see I was in the middle of my
shot," Tim asked Anne, his voice calm, yet visibly filled with
annoyance. "You told Joe you were going to come and get me?" Anne
shouted at her Uncle. "Who the hell died and made you my boss"
came Anne's next verbal assault. Tim's face grew red with a mixture
of both anger and frustration. He took two steps toward Anne and
then, he took a deep breath. "Anne, we can discuss this later."
Anne continued to yell at Tim and once again, Tim heard that voice
in his head: If only this was 40 years ago. Tim closed his eyes
and then all of a sudden, he felt "funny." He wasn't quite sure
what was going on. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't.
He seemed to be stuck in this position, standing up, with eyes
closed. The voice of his niece still in his head not letting up
for a moment, as she continued to complain about how things were
going so well with Joe until her Uncle ruined everything. Then,
all of a sudden, Tim was able to open his eyes. The first thing
he heard was the Beatles singing, "Hard Day's Night." That wasn't
strange, but what was strange was his bowling ball, was a ball
he had never seen before. At least, a ball he hadn't seen recently.
It said, "Manhattan Rubber," on it. Tim thought for a moment and
remembered this own father had that kind of ball. "They used this
kind of ball in the 50's and 60's" he thought to himself. He then
noticed a calendar on the wall with a picture of Elvis Presley
adorning it. Tim moved in to get a better view of it and it said,
May 8, 1964. Anne, who was now wearing a pair of tight fitting
Jeans and a T-shirt with the words, "Rolling Stones," on it, was
screaming at him same as she was before. Her words were the same,
but nothing else was. Then that voice again: "If only this was
40 years ago. You could teach this brat a lesson and people would
probably cheer you instead of report you to the authorities. "
Tim didn't think of anything else except those words and the next
thing he knew, he grabbed Anne by the arm and took her over to
the scorers table. A table, with a chair and a paper to keep score
of the game, had replaced the "Magic Score" automatic scorer.
Tim sat down on the chair and pulled Anne across his lap. "You
think you are old enough to chase after 25 year olds?" Tim scolded.
"Well, we'll see how grown up you feel after I blister your behind!"
As Tim raised his hand to begin the spanking, Joe grabbed him
by the wrist, stopping him in mid motion. Their eyes met for a
moment and Joe smiled as he handed Tim a heavy wooden hairbrush."
"Thanks!" Tim said as he began to spank his niece with crisp hard
spanks. He went from her left cheek to her right cheek. Then,
up one side of her behind and down the other. Tim peppered Anne's
backside over and over again and soon Anne was begging and pleading
for her Uncle to stop. "Please Uncle Tim, I'm so sorry I was rude
to you. I'll never do it again!" Nobody came to Anne's rescue
and Tim wanted to make sure Anne learned a good lesson. The spanking
went on for a good five minutes and every swat was greeted with
a long range of emotions from the "audience." Some people smiled,
others laughed while still others seemed to be keeping count of
the number of spanks. Finally, after around 150 licks had been
administered to the tight seat of Anne's Jeans, Tim put down the
brush. Anne stayed over her Uncle's lap, crying her eyes out,
as the crowd that had gathered to watch the festivities slowly
returned to their own lanes. Tim rubbed and patted Anne's bottom
while reminding her that he loved her and that she had better
never act that way to him again. After Anne calmed down, Tim let
her up.
Sunshine struggled to make its way through the blinds of Tim's
bedroom, as he groggily opened his eyes to greet the day. He looked
at the clock and saw it was 7AM. He stretched and yawned and then
thought about the crazy dream he had. Had he really had a dream
about spanking his niece? He laughed a bit and thought, "Well
if I didn't get to teach that brat a lesson for real, I guess
a dream is the next best thing." Strange thing was, Tim couldn't
remember how he had bowled last night and that he found very strange
and more than just a little unsettling. He got up and walked into
the living room. Anne wasn't there and she wasn't in her room.
Tim then remembered it was Friday and Anne must have already left
for school. Tim saw a sheet of paper on the kitchen table and
he picked it up to read it. "I'm so sorry Uncle Tim for the way
I behaved last night. I promise I will never behave that way again."
Then it said, "I love you," and it was signed, Anne. Tim continued
staring at the letter, a myriad of thoughts going through his
head. The phone ringing snapped him out of his thoughts and he
picked up the receiver. "Hello," Tim said. The caller was Ed.
"Hey Tim, that was some performance you put on last night at the
lanes. I couldn't believe my eyes!" "You mean, I bowled well and
we won?" "Pal, you did everything well last night." "You must
be thrilled to death, bowling a perfect game and single handedly
getting us that much closer to first place." "Yes," Tim said,
"I guess I did bowl quite well." Ed chuckled on the other end
of the line. "You also spanked pretty well too. "I'll bet Anne
is not going to be able to sit down today at school." "I spanked
Anne last night at the lanes?" Tim asked. More laughter from Ed.
"You sure did, Pal. And let me tell you she has needed something
like that for a long time. Well, I got to get to the office, but
I just wanted to say thank you for a most entertaining evening.
Bowling should only be half that exciting each week, I'd join
more leagues." The two men laughed and then Tim hung up the phone.
He thought to himself, 'Na, this must all be a dream. I'm still
sleeping, that must be it." He then heard the familiar sound of
the school bus honking its horn. He glanced out the window just
in time to see the bus pulling up and Anne walking up the few
steps and into the bus. She was rubbing her behind as she did
so.
Closing narration:
Sometimes justice can come very late and other time, it arrives
very early. It can span second or minutes, or in this case, decades.
Tonight's tale of strict yet oddly fair discipline, in, The Twilight
Zone!
js@smilingwithteeth.com "Otkforu" not to be reposted without permission
