The clock began to run down and the commentators were already calling the game over, declaring it a blowout for Ashby’s team. You tightened your posture in one corner of the couch as the girls counted down the time left. Strangely, Ashby broke herself away from watching the game for a moment to come and comfort you, placing a hand on your shoulder and caringly telling you “Don’t worry about it, Troy Troy.”

“Really?” You ask, eyes full of hope, thinking that she is going to give you a stay of execution.

“Uh huh.” She says with a sinister smile. “Even if your team doesn’t win, at least YOU still get to go to MY super bowl!” She hugs you close as you stay in stunned silence. She kisses your cheek, pats your back and joins the other girls as they jump up and down and count the last few seconds off the clock.

“Five… four… three… two… one…”

PPPRRRBTT. Ashby lets out a fart that echoes above the games final buzzer, symbolizing your impending fate. The girls all laugh and quickly turn around to face you.

Your time is up.