You light and toss. No sooner do you say, “Right Field! Deer!” does a snap of Yount’s wrists send a flaming liner to right with a loud crack of the bat. The napalm ball roars like a burning comet directly toward zombie-Rob Deer. The creature looks up, raising his hands, as the ball hits him squarely in the chest and explodes out his back. It leaves a perfect flaming hole where his sternum used to be. The beast flails around as his clothes begin to catch. In seconds he is covered in flames, melting his subcutaneous fat, and turning into a roaring candle of flame.
“Nice hit,” you say, as you light another ball. Surveying the field, you toss the ball, and say, “Left field - Greg Vaughn!” The ball soars in a graceful arc to left field. Like a shooting star, it falls from the sky. Vaughn collapses as the ball embeds itself in his skull.
“Shortstop - Diaz!” you state, as you toss another flaming ball. Yount cocks his wrists, takes a small stride, pivots his hips, and absolutely crushes a line drive at the undead utility infielder’s chest. With reflexes that were buried deep in his undead brain, Edgar Diaz reaches up and spears the ball out of mid-air, but the force of the hit sends him tumbling into the outfield.
It’s too easy. He needs a challenge... You call the name of a Red Sox reliever locked in their bullpen, and toss another flaming ball. As the two of you watch the flaming trail soar majestically over the fence in right field, Diaz has risen to his feet, and flipped the ball back in for more fielding practice.
The still-smoldering ball flies directly between you and Yount. On one hop, it bounces into the bucket. A look of utter disbelief is on his face as your eyes meet. A split second later, the bucket explodes. Liquid fireballs rain down on you both, engulfing you in flames. You smell cooked flesh, and in your last moments you desperately crave a hot dog (with Stadium Secret Sauce)...
Death becomes you. Start over?
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