An Apocalyptic Ode to the Dallas Cowboys – The Sunday after this Sunday By Jerry Hamar Dallas Texas, Sunday, October 13th. A lone vehicle in Dallas Texas made its way towards the 8th wonder of the world, it weaved past orange cones and debris that riddled the parking lot, the vehicle moved carefully at about 10 miles per hour, making its way through to the closest parking place to Cowboy Stadium. The sky was gray. “Something’s not right,” thought the stranger as he pulled into the closest parking spot to the entrance of the stadium, this spot is never available. He surveyed the scene, making sure it was safe to get out of his car. After a moment, he put the orange and blue Ford Bronco in park, and creaked the drivers side door open. The stranger exited the vehicle, his cowboy boots set foot on the blacktop and his spurs jingled as the hit the pavement. He eyed the stadium, it was in shambles, he wasn’t even sure if the structure was safe enough to enter, yet he headed towards the main entrance, looking for a ticket taker, there were none to be found, there was no one to be found, he left his ticket on the turnstile and walked through, no one at their post asking to stamp his ticket, no other cars, no smell of food being cooked at the tailgate parties that once filled the parking lot. “This is VERY strange,” he thought to himself as he entered the stadium. There were no lights, all the bulbs had been broken, what happened here? He continued to ponder as he looked around at the disarray and rubble. He entered the main corridor, the entire stadium seemed as if it were about to crumble to the ground, small fires burned here and there, but still, no vendors, no stores or food stations open, it was a ghost town. The further he walked into the bowels of the massive complex, the darker it became, dust filled the air, it was everywhere, filling his lungs, making him cough, he wrapped a blue bandana around his mouth so he could breathe. He heard a loud sound, like a pipe bouncing off of the cement floor just to the right of him. Then they all ran out of the women’s bathroom, their boots clicking across the cement, scattering like animals past him in all directions. “Who or what are they he thought,” As one of them tried to dart past him, he managed to reach out and grab one by the dusty and dirty blonde hair, she fell to the ground yelling, “Please don’t hurt me mister, are you one of them?” He asked, “One of who?” She let out a crazy scream, and then began laughing hysterically, like a crazy woman. He spoke in a low calm voice, and sat down on the dusty ground, putting her head in his lap. He held her tight and told her she was safe now. All the while, she babbled words that made no sense, laughing to herself, laying with her head in his lap, he, speaking to her softly, “Its ok, you are safe, you are safe now.” Her eyes were distant, she stared past him as if she didn’t even see him. She was covered head to toe in soot and dust, it was all over her face, tear marks ran through the dirt on her face leaving a long streak of wet dirt under each eye that ran down to her jowls, her uniform was in shreds, she had one pom-pom left and she held it tightly in her right hand. “Who are you, what happened here” the stranger asked. She replied, the question isn’t who am I, the question is, “Who did I used to be?” “My name is Renee’, I used to be a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader,” we were glorious, we used to dance for the crowds, I am a dancer you know, and they loved us, we would wave our blue and silver pom-poms high in the air and jump around when Tony Romo (she began to cry at the mention of the name), would throw touchdowns, sometimes to the wrong team, but we would still cheer anyway, but no more, all is gone, all is gone!” She looked at him, he could tell she could see him now, and she spoke, “Hey mister, do you think they will take me?” “Do you think they will let me dance for them?” He replied, “Who, who will take you?” Renee jumped up out of his lap, she began to laugh frantically, so much so that she could barely breathe. “Do I think who will take you?” the stranger asked again, but it was too late, she ran down the corridor into the darkness laughing like a maniac skipping along, all the while yelling, “The Broncos, the Broncos, The Broncos – he heard a shrieking laugh, hahahahahahahahahahahahah, the Broncos………………..” until her voice trailed off and he could hear her no longer. The stranger felt shaken, “What the hell happened here,” he yelled out loud, but there was no response. He stepped out through the corridor that led to the field, all the while thinking, “this building isn’t stable, it could fall at any time.” He walked out onto the field, it was covered in over two feet of dust, he looked up at the retractable dome roof, it was half way open and off of its hinges, it could fall at any moment as well. His spurs jingled as his cowboy boots quickly became dusty. The seats were destroyed, the cement crumbled in many places, yet to his surprise a lone vendor on the other side of the stadium walked down a path through the mangled seats and railings. He was dressed in pure black, and he carried a platform-box in front of him strapped behind his neck like stadium beer vendors do. He barked out, “Get your roasted crow on a stick, only $27.50, get your roasted crow on a stick, roasted crow on a stick here, get your roasted crow…..” They will put and sell anything on a stick in Texas. The stranger surveyed the stadium and field that was destroyed, the autumn wind began to blow hard, the howl of it was eerie, as he surveyed the field, the dust blew this way and that, revealing a silver helmet that had a blue star on the side of it, sticking about 1 foot above the dust. The dust below it began to move, and a hand poked up out of the layers of soot, as if someone were breaking out of a grave and making it to the surface. He ran over and took a hold of the hand, he pulled. It was a man wearing a Dallas Cowboys football helmet, he started coughing as he had now made his way to rest, laying on his back on top of the dust. The stranger estimated they were laying on where the 50 yard line would be. The player coughed, and spat soot and dust out of his mouth, trying to get his bearings. “What happened here?” the stranger asked him. The player, staring at the dome ceiling, a single tear running down the side of his face, the blood left his cheeks, he turned white, and began to weave a story of apocalyptic proportions. “It was horrible!, we were all here preparing for the game against the World Champion Denver Broncos, we all stood on the practice field, it was a beautiful mild day, the stands were filled with fans, 1,000’s of them, tens of thousands of them, cheering at the top of their lungs, nothing could have been louder, yet, something louder came!” At first I thought it was thunder, but there were no clouds in the sky. The rumble kept coming towards us, the faster, and louder, and faster, the stadium began to shake, fans began screaming and running out of the stadium, it was chaotic mayhem. “I stood there, not knowing what to do, I looked over at Tony Romo, he had earphones on and was passing the ball, mostly throwing interceptions to the cheerleaders, he was oblivious to what was going on, his hat backwards, big smile on his face. Then they appeared, they came through that entrance over yonder, a stampede of Broncos! They ran into the stadium, it was something the likes of which we had never seen before, they had their way with us for over 3 hours, the monstrous beasts running all over the field as the cement walls shook and began to crumble, the fans all fled early. The stranger listening to all of this felt a sharp pain in his heart, he reached down and unbuckled the players chin strap, and proceeded to remove his helmet. A smell for the ages reeked up from the Dallas Cowboy player that lay there. “Oh, what is that awful smell?” The stranger leaned over and threw up into the dust. The Cowboy began to speak again, this time he was crying. “After three hours, the dust of the stampeding Broncos, the twisted metal, the stadium crumbling before our eyes, all made it hard to see.” But I saw him alright, he was 15 feet tall, and he appeared from the dust, heading straight for me. He was pure white, it was as if fire flared from his nostrils, he reared up on his hind legs, taller than an elephant, I thought that it was the end for me, I thought he was going to stomp me into the ground. But looking back, I wish he had done that compared to what he did. He landed back on the ground on all fours, he walked past me, his hind legs and tail over my face, I had my helmet on, his tail lifted straight up, first he peed on me, and he then proceeded to let out the largest and longest vile dump on me, it filled my helmet, my mouth, it seemed like it would never end, at that point, I passed out and didn’t wake up until I saw you here just now. And do you want to know the worst part of it, the Cowboy player began to cry so much so that he could barely talk, “I think that the Bronco was laughing!” “Have you ever heard a horse laugh?” I hope I never hear that sound again. It was the Denver Broncos what done this to us, the Denver Broncos…………… The Cowboy asked the stranger, “Do you think they will take me?” At that, the Dallas Cowboy player’s eyes became as large as white plates, he looked at the stranger and yelled, “Save yourself, run……..she’s going to come down!!!” The stranger thought, he must have gone to crazy town and rented a room there, until he looked up and saw the sparks, and heard the crackling, as well as the eerie sound of twisting metal, the worlds largest monitor was about to fall to the ground, he tried to move and save the player, but he was too heavy. He ran as fast as he could, the TV Screen broke from its moorings and the stranger dove out of the way just in the nick of time. The Screen landed smack dab on the 50 yard line, the Cowboy was now with his maker, flat as a pancake.
Posted on: Thu, 03 Oct 2013 00:18:18 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015