Dog Days of Summer pt.2


Freddie looked up at Sam and the look on her face struck fear into his heart. He looked around and saw that he was behind a curtain on a stage of some kind.

"Ready or not dork, its show time."

"Showtime? What do you mean…" He looked down at his clothes and was horrified to find the he was adorned with suspenders, and really thick glasses. He was also dressed in a pair of the tightest pants and the dorkiest shirt he had ever witnessed. It was fully stocked with a pocket protector and two pens and a mechanical pencil.

"And now for the piece de resistance." She retrieved a small bottle of something from her pocket, and sprayed some on Freddie. She gave him a sniff and immediately recoiled. Freddie sniffed his shirt and instantly knew why she looked as if she was ready to vomit. He now reeked of cheese. And not the good kind like mozzarella or the kind that comes in a can, but the stinky stuff. The limburger or feta. It was truly atrocious.

"Wait. Sam why am I wearing this stuff?"

"Oh no you don't Benson. You shouldn't have made the deal if you were afraid of the consequences."

"Consequences? You mean I lost? But wait I don't remember…"

"I suppose it was something that it you'd wanna forget. You guys managed to suck for four whole years… and you weren't able to do a thing about it." She gave a loud chuckle of pleasant disbelief, "I mean... the coach sent in the towel boy before you." She shakes her head as Freddie can only listen in dread. "To be honest, I never expected much outta you to begin with. In fact, the only thing I expect outta you… is a good laugh every now and then… luckily you're about to give me that in about a minute or two." With those words she disappeared through the curtains.

He could hear her voice as it resounded over the amplifiers. "Ladies and Gentleman of the University of Washington graduating class of 2014… I present to you, Fredward Q. Urkel!" Without warning the curtains flew open and Freddie was exposed to a blinding light…

"Ok Fellas! Rise and shine!" Freddie opened his eyes only to be blinded further as the sudden introduction of light was too much for his retinas to handle. "Today we learn the playbook."

Week two: The Playbook

Jerome started tossing books at all of the players. Freddie feels the book hit him in the chest and he thanks God that the book wasn't heavy enough to cause any damage. His eyes finally adjust and he looks over to his side to find a bowtie nest to his pillow. His eyes stretch and he throws the bowtie away from him as if it's very sight could give him the plague. "Alright, who put this bowtie next to my sleeping bag!" Gibby could only chuckle at his tiny prank.

"I'm sorry man." Gibby apologized through his fit of laughter, "Sam texted me last night told me to do it when you were asleep." Freddie just grumbles because he knows that Gibby has to be telling the truth. Nobody else hates him enough to pull something like this and Sam is the type of person that would text one of his friends to pull a prank on him. Torment him close and from afar. It was a style all her own… at least that's what she told everybody. No one would dare to disagree.

Freddie reads the title of the playbook. "Basic Triangle Offense" Hmm, it says basic, so how hard could it be? He looks inside the playbook. His brain promptly explodes.

Now sitting in the den of Jerome's brownstone, Jerome took this time to brief the players about the offense that was in the playbook. "Now, this playbook contains the triangle offense that we will be using this season." Everyone opens their playbooks and leaf through them, most don faces of despair, and fear.

Seeing their fearful faces, Jerome smirks and decides to deliver the death blow, ""The Triangle Offense is one of those offenses that is special for how simple it is. We all have to work together for to this offense to run like a machine, and with this we learn to run it from here on in for the next four years."

"Wow," Freddie would say under his breath. As he stared ahead to the book that is in front of him, he cannot seem to stop staring at the x's and o's that is scattered in front of him. Arrows point too many different directions... Freddie, scoffs. "You call this simple?" He quickly realizes, however, that his voice carried a little farther than he wanted it to.

"Benson!" Freddie snaps his head up and sees the icy glare that Jerome is giving him, "You got somethin' to add?" Freddie, fear stricken, can only shake his head. "Good. Get your buts in gear gentlemen! We're headed to the courts."

And so started a week full of: early morning jogs, grueling afternoon practices, and late night study sessions. The work was exhausting but at least there was a routine. The routine helped Freddie to mentally prepare for what was to come. He was slowly becoming acclimated with this workout regimen, which he was certain wasn't really recommended for anyone who wasn't an Olympic athlete.

Later on that week, Jerome decided that everyone was too helpless to learn the plays on their own. So once they reached the courts he decided to give them a crash course in his understanding of the triangle. "So, since all of you have proven to be hopeless idiots, I'm gonna give you guys the basics of the offense." Freddie rolled his eyes.

He doesn't like to be called an idiot, "The play set up doesn't begin until we cross the half court line. From there we give the ball to the point guard, from there the center and power forward will set up at the elbow and the shooting guard and small forward will set up at the wings. From there we start the play. I give the ball to one of the players on one of the wings and use him as a screen to get to the corner. The player on the other wing will take my place at the top of the key. When I make the move to the corner the center and power forward will crash to the baseline to screen off any defender when I make my move to the basket. If I pass on the lay-up then the play will switch to the other side of the court. Which means that: when I am moving to the basket the player at the top of the key will move to the open wing and the player that occupied the other wing will move to the top of the key. Any questions?" he was received with blank stares and some more fearful faces. He could almost hear the brains sizzling between their ears.

Jerome calls this the basics? Freddie had a great deal of questions. He couldn't understand half of what he just heard, and what he did understand was too little to be put together into coherent sentences. It baffled Freddie. How in the world did anyone understand it? Where to go, the timing and precision; it all went way over his head. To him, the playbook was just a bunch of scribbles, and the spoken explanation of the playbook was nothing more than jargon. Now I know how everyone else feels when I talk tech-stuff.

Whether or not Freddie had questions or not wasn't the issue. More like: How many questions?

Hearing no voices and seeing no hands, Jerome was satisfied with his explanation. Truth be told, he wasn't very likely to change his explanation anyway. "Good! Let's get started. Benson, Gibson, Foster, and Jamison… you guys are with me on this court. The rest of you will go to the adjoining court with Rudy." Everyone stood and went to their destinations. When Rudy's group left the court he turned to the group he was with and looked at Freddie with his most fearsome look, "Let's get started." He raised the whistle to his mouth and blew into it. He handed the ball to Freddie. Freddie just glared at him trying to will the ringing in his ears to stop.

And with that they were off, running to the other end of the court.

"Foster, you have to get down the court faster! If you're not there, the timing is thrown off!" Jerome shouted out to the players.

It was around 2pm in Bushwick Park Courts, they had their warm-ups and everyone, even Freddie, (slowly, of course), was getting used to the routine. So it was time to learn the playbook that we will have in the future. It was the triangle offense that they will learn. Mind you it's a more scaled down version of it. It was, supposedly, easier to learn.

Freddie couldn't really tell, "Benson!" Freddie cringed at hearing Jerome belt out his name across the court, "You have to get to the wing, why the hell are you standing in the corner!" Freddie was exhausted… everyone was. There had been no break all day… at least down at his end there hadn't been.

He looked to the adjoining court to see the group under Rudy's tutelage seated on the pavement. "Jerome, why haven't we been given a break yet?" Upon asking his question, Freddie immediately wished he hadn't.

Jerome turned and looked at him with a look that, he was sure, could kill anyone on the court. "You'll get a break when I decide to give you one! Now… we're gonna run it again to the other end of the court," He looked over to see Steve Foster, the center, gawk at the new order. "and we'll keep runnin it, until you get it right!"

Jerome raised the whistle to his lips. The groans of the four others on the court reached Rudy's ears. "Hey Rome, give 'em a break. They've been goin since five this mornin'!" Jerome grimaced and blew his whistle twice, signifying that they could rest for five minutes.

"Volcanoooooooooo!" Gibby screamed echoed across the court as he ran to the garbage can in the corner to throw up.

Foster, and Mike Jamison, one of the other forwards on Freddie's court, took the opportunity to pass out where they stood.

Jerome surveyed the surroundings and his face sprouted an evil grin. Working like a charm. He thought with a sick satisfaction. He looked over at Jerome to find him smiling as well. He shot Rudy a look as if to ask, What're you smiling at?

Seeming to understand, Rudy nodded over in some obscure direction. Following Rudy's nod, Jerome turned to see Freddie standing observing the scene, just as Jerome had been doing. Jerome's evil grin faded to an irritated grimace. He looked over at Rudy who was now giving Jerome an, I told you so look.

Jerome returned his icy glare to Freddie. Freddie's eyes found Jerome's. He had, long since, decided that he didn't like the way Jerome's been treating him. These, less than savory, feelings caused his eyes to fix themselves into a glare. Those same feelings caused his mind to think, Try me. I can take whatever you have to give.

Jerome knew this look. Jerome practically owned this look. He easily read this look and sent a glare of his own to answer Freddie. You ain't seen nothin' yet. The amount of fatigue that Freddie was experiencing, coupled with the sheer intensity of Jerome's glare, caused Freddie to cower. His glare faltered and he backed away and went to go comfort Gibby in the corner.

The rest of that practice consisted of: Freddie's group running the "basic" triangle offense, Jerome yelling at them for screwing up the "basic" triangle offense, and Gibby throwing up from excessive yelling and exhaustion from running the "basic" triangle offense. Night had fallen and the lights had come on they went home… after staying an hour longer than Rudy's group for a reason unknown to Freddie.

Freddie's group drug themselves through the door at around 11 o'clock that night. Jerome was behind them and glaring holes through all of them. Too disgusted with the very sight of them, Jerome went up to his room. In his room, he found Rudy waiting on him.

"Rome, what the hell was that?"

Jerome just raised his eyebrows questioningly, "What was what?"

"At the courts. You worked them harder than I ever seen you work anybody before."

"You're crazy…"

"Gibby was vomiting in the corner!" Rudy received a blank look for Jerome, "The shirtless one!"

"Oh yeah… what's up with that anyway?"

"What, his vomiting?"

"Not that." Jerome chuckled and shook his head, "Why's he always shirtless?"

"Rome, focus!" Rudy tilted his head back in frustration, "At this rate, they won't be of any good use to the team."

"I already told you. If they can't cut it then they don't deserve to be on the team." Jerome opened a folder in which he's documented the players' progress.

"You remember when I started callin' you 'Rome'?" Jerome looked up from the folder to find that Rudy had his back turned to him. He returned his gaze to the folder. "It was after you lost the semi-finals… the first time. You wanna know why I started callin you 'Rome'?" Rudy turned and faced Jerome.

"Because it's the shortened version of my government name?" He answered never taking his eyes off of his folder.

"No."

"Was it because my leadership ability and commanding presence reminded you Caesar?"

"Are you crazy?" Rudy asked, completely dumbfounded. "Why would I recognize leadership ability after a loss like that?" Jerome opened his mouth to object. Rudy just put up his hand, signifying that he wasn't finished. "Look, I call you Rome because no matter how long it took to build it… Rome was still, easily, burnt to the ground."

Jerome tilted his head in thought. "So I remind you of Nero?"

Rudy shook his head in aggravation, "I'm turnin' in for the night." Rudy stopped at the door to the room, "Oh… Sean called, said he'll be in town for the next couple of weeks." Rudy didn't wait for a response. He walked down stairs, thinking, Maybe he can help you better than I can.

When he reached the living room he surveyed the players and noticed that one was missing. "Where's Benson?"

Gibby spoke up, "He had to make phone call, so he's in the kitchen." Rudy nods his head. He looks towards the kitchen.

Deciding that he's too tired to check up on him he lays back on the couch.

In the kitchen Freddie was just finishing a phone conversation with his mother. When he started the conversation with her, it was midnight. He had, now, been talking to her for an hour.

"No mom, everything's fine."

"But what about sunscreen? If you don't apply it your skin will start to peel and that rash will come back."

"Mom I never had a rash!"

"Well then I guess the sunscreen was working then wasn't it?"

"Mom I don't have time for this. I'll talk to you later." Freddie's mom had been releasing two weeks' worth of fussing on her son for the last fifteen minutes.

"But it's only ten o'clock."

"I know that mom, but on the east coast its 1 in the morning." He immediately regrets his statement.

After a long, deafening silence, "FREDWARD BENSON!" the storm comes. Freddie has to move the phone away from his ear to prevent any permanent damage. "WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU UP THIS LATE!"

"Mom… mom… I'm going to bed right now." He didn't wait for an answer. He hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He hadn't the energy to deal with her.

On the other hand there was one person who he would, somehow muster up the energy for. In all honesty, he was actually doing better than he was last week. In addition to that he felt bad because he hadn't spoken to Sam since he hung up on her the week before.

That conversation was on a Friday. She called a couple of times on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. After that, the calls stopped. Time to mend some bridges. He thought as he scrolled down to Sam's name in his caller id. He pressed send. All that was left now was to wait.

"Well, well, well… " Freddie smirked at hearing her voice. "Look who learned how to use a phone."

"Hey Sam. Look about last week…" He was cut off.

"What was up with that Benson? I had to call Gibby to see how you were doin'."

"Why would you care about how I was doin?" Freddie was beginning to recognize one of the rare moments where he had the upper hand in a battle with his nemesis.

"Just… protecting my investment." Her slight hesitation only increased Freddie's drive.

"Really? Then how come you only told Gibby to do one prank the whole time we've been up here." No answer comes and he's jumping up and down in his mind. "You care about me… You're concerned about my well being."

"Watch it nub-stain. I mean that I want you to, at least, make the team so I can watch you ride the bench for four years and suffer from the mental anguish of never being good enough to be there at the opening tip." Freddie's face fell, "Your fail is my win, dork. It just wouldn't be any fun if it all ended so fast."

"Ok… ok… I'll back off." Things fell into an oddly comfortable silence. Freddie decided to break the silence. "Seriously. I'm sorry for last week."

"No need. You probably did the right thing. I was gonna go for the kill that night." He could almost see her smug smile.

"Yeah well, now that my fears and regrets are relieved: How is Volleyball goin?"

"It's goin' ok… I guess."

"You guess?"

"I don't know. I like it but it feels like its…"

"Lacking?"

"I don't know… I guess that's one way to describe it."

"You miss the game don't you?" silence once again… this time, it's less comfortable. Freddie once again breaks the silence. "You know, I really do think that you should play again."

"What about the volleyball team? What will they think if I just quit?"

"Since when has Sam Puckett ever cared what anyone else think?"

"You know… I think you're right." Freddie's eyes widened at her admission, "But remember, you never heard that from me. You tell someone and I'll publicly deny it… and then I'll privately beat you senseless." Freddie chuckled. He'd be lying if he said he never missed their fights. He hears her breathe a long sigh. "Well Fred-bag, I'm gonna let you go. Keep up the good work…" was that a compliment? "I hear you've already managed to piss off the guy in charge with your overall suckish-ness." He hears her giggle, and all he could do was shake his head.

Normally he would argue, but he wasn't entirely sure she wasn't telling the truth. Not willing to ponder it further, he just shook his head. "Alright then, later Princess Puckett."

She giggles once again although this one sounds a little different. "Later dweeb." He just shakes his head once again, too tired to give it any thought at all. He hangs up the phone and saunters back to his sleeping bag.

Back in Seattle, Sam closed the phone to find Carly smirking over at her.

"What?" Sam shot at her friend.

"Who was that?" Carly asked already knowing the answer

"it… was… Johnny Matthews." Sam could lie to anyone… teachers, parents, officers, lawyers, judges… but she could never lie to Carly.

Carly noticed how her eyes shifted. "Uh-huh… and since when was Johnny's nick name Fred-bag?"

"Fine, so I was talkin to Fred-wimp. What's the big chizz?"

"No big chizz," Carly commented casually, "Although, you did do a lot more giggling than normal." Receiving no answer from her she sighed. "Well I'm gonna head back to the dorm, mind walkin me to my car? It's late and I'm pretty sure the skeevs are out around this time of night."

"Sure, let me get my bat." She grabbed her bat and shoes and they headed to the parking lot. "You know? It really sucks, that you won't stay with me in the apartment."

"I already told you, Sam. I wanna experience college life."

Sam just scoffs, "You wanna experience Gibby life." Carly just nudges her friend in the shoulder.

"Shut up." They reach her car and Carly walks around to the driver's side, "You really should try it."

"No thanks Carls, I'll let you have Merman Gibby to yourself."

"Gibby is not a mermaid, Sam!" Carly put her head down to hide her blush, mumbling… "And he's already mine."

"What did you say?" Sam's sudden question shocked Carly as she was sure that she kept her voice low enough that Sam couldn't hear her.

Thinking fast Carly tried to cover her tracks, "Umm… I said, 'I meant college life'." That sounded the same didn't it? Sam just eyed her friend suspiciously.

Sam just waves her hand, dismissing the subject. "I don't really care about the college experience or any of that chizz."

"You're soundin' more and more like Freddie." Carly chuckled when Sam glared at her for daring to utter such an obscenity.

Sam's glare faltered, "Yeah, whatever."

"Yeah, whatever." Carly mocked. "Get in I'll drive you closer to your door."

Sam got in and enjoyed the short journey to her front door. She walked up the stairs and gave it some thought.

Am I really starting to sound like Freddie? She shuddered at the thought. Maybe I should think about giving the college experience a shot.

A/N: and that is another chapter, I know that all the basketball terminology Is confusing but its putting into Freddie's shoes about this, hes a techie trying to understand something new at the highest level. So I hoped you like it more is coming and please review I appreciate it so much. Thanks for your time. And also to ask any questions about this story review too. Or PM what ever lol.