The Batter sat in the enormous ball pit as he is wont to do on Thursday afternoons. Only his head was visible above the sea of plastic balls. Here he was content. Here in his ball pit, he could drop his guard if only for a few hours. If he had any emotions at all, here he would feel happiness.
On this particular day, some time into the bathing ritual, he sensed that something was off. He swiveled his head around without moving his body to scan the horizon, the offing as he called it. His eyes narrowed dangerously. Who dares to disturb this sacred moment? he thought over the invasively loud electro swing music blaring through the speakers around him. There was no disturbance in sight. But the Batter knew when he sensed impurity.
At last, he moved his reluctant limbs to search through the balls, which clattered in a hollow chorus as he parted them. Whatever was off here, it was starting to piss him off. He was offended by this intrusion of his official off-guardery. Suddenly, a distinctly non-ball form passed before his judging eyes.
It was a used bandage.
The Batter screamed and drew his bat. "FOUL MALEFACTOR," he screamed. "DESECRATING THIS HAVEN OF PURITY! PREPARE TO SUFFER MY HOLY WRATH!" He swung the bat as hard as he could and slammed it into the bandage with immaculate precision. The offending object flew through the air for a couple of yards before it was erased from existence. But the Batter knew that the source of corruption still lingered.
He swung at the balls in the pit before him with cold determination. They fell in great showers as the bat somewhat inefficiently parted the multicolored sea. When the Batter managed to create a sizable hole, he saw what appeared to be the top of a human head hiding in the ball pit. Abandoning his weapon for the moment, he grasped the person by the shoulders and yanked them into full view.
"Zacharie," he droned.
"Hello, friend."
"What are you doing in my ball pit?"
A few moments passed, and Zacharie did not respond. The Batter tightened his grip and leaned closer in an intimidating fashion.
"Was that your bandage?"
Zacharie hesitated. "I cannot deny that it -"
The Batter immediately abandoned his grip on the man's shoulders to retrieve his bat. With righteous fury he swung it, pouring all his strength into vanquishing the offender. The cudgel whistled through the air and impacted the side of Zacharie's head with a crack that sounded even above the music. Splatters of crimson stained the colorful plastic orbs. Zacharie's limp body fell to the bottom of the pit with a dull clatter of all-consuming balls.
The Batter felt no regret. He began to resume his usual position when he noticed Zacharie's mask lying a few feet away. His curiosity got the better of him. He waded to where the body had fallen and lifted it into view much as he had before.
"Mon dieu," he gasped. "It was me the whole time."
