"Where the heck do we sit?" I, Bob, whispered to Butch and Chuck.
"I have no idea." replied Chuck.
"I'll go ask Coach Wendell." said Butch
He walked over to Coach Wendell and asked where we were to sit on our long bus ride to Montana to play the Montana Mountaineers. Butch got his answer and rejoined Chuck and I in line.
"Coach says we sit... in the back!" he said.
"Dun-dun-dun..." joked Chuck.
The three of us shoved our way to the front of the line and jumped onto the bus running towards the back.
"Can we do that?" asked Butch.
"I guess so." I replied.
We sat in our respective seats as the rest of the team clambered into the 30 passenger yellow truck. Everybody was on the bus when the Coach Chip stood up before we took off and said,
"All right team," he began. "We have a very long trip ahead of us. 37 hours to be exact. And that's if we don't stop, period. I'm guessing that won't be happening since we all need to eat." he said, jokingly.
The team chuckled a bit as Coach continued,
"So in the case that we may need to get out and stretch, run, or eat this trip may end up taking around 50 hours."
The team let out a groan at Coach's bad "joke."
"There will be no swearing, period. And we will sleep on the bus,"
Another groan with a mix-in of laughter.
"But there is some good news. I'm paying for the food!"
A wave of clapping thundered toward the back row as Chuck decided this would be a good time to hide under his blanket. I poked him, and he poked me back.
"What are you doing?" I yelled over the barrage of applause.
"I'm hiding from the people who continue to repeatedly smack their hands together!" he replied.
All this time I kept thinking: Why is Butch so quiet all of a sudden? I glanced over to his seat and saw something terrible. I flew out of my seat and down the aisle to Coach Chip.
"Butch passed out!"