The Humping Games

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I rolled out of bed and slammed into the floor. Damn, these hangovers are getting rough. I checked on my sister. Good. Prissy was still asleep. She didn’t wake up when I flopped like fish on dry land out of the bed.

I laced up my sweet pair of boots and ran out the door for no reason. I like being outside. Trees are nice. I found my friend Gavin hiding in the trees. He must like trees too.

“Katlick Eversweet,” he said to me. He’s totally hot by the way.

“Hi Gavin.”

“Today’s the big day. The drawing for The Humping Games.”

“I know,” I said, excited. “I can’t wait. My name is in there 38 times. Hopefully it’s my year.”

“I know what you mean,” Gavin said. “I put my name in over 50 times.”

The Humping Games occurred once a year. It was the only time we were allowed to just let our inner sexiness out and get it on. The rest of the year, all funny business was against the law.

“I wish things were different,” I said, sadness in my voice.

Gavin wrapped his sexy man arms around me.

“Oh, Katlick,” he said. “You’re my best friend. And you’re a woman. I wish things were different too.”

“I know, right?” I said. “If our names are called, I’m so gonna violate you.”

“May the odds ever be in…,” he stopped. “I hate that saying.”

I stepped away from his hug and let my hair down. He practically drooled as I braided it in the special way my mom used to do it.

“You really do need your name called, don’t you?”

He looked at me with his hungry eyes. “You have no idea.”

I went home and got my sister for the drawing. We were nervous as we checked in and got in line. Some freaky looking people made some announcements…and then it was time. The woman reached into the bowl and drew a piece of paper. The crowd was silent.

“Prissy Eversweet,” she read.

My heart stopped. They couldn’t pick my sister. I needed this! I ran out to the front.

“I volunteer,” I shouted. Prissy gave me a dirty look.

“Fine,” the woman said. “Get up here you tramp.”

I walked to the stage. It was a dream come true.

“What’s your name dear?” the woman asked me.

“Katlick,” I said.

“Of course it is.” She reached into the other bowl for a boy’s name. I crossed my fingers, praying it would be Gavin. She read the name. “Pita.”

“Pita? Like the bread?” I asked.

“That’s right,” a man said, stepping up to the stage. “My family makes bread.”

“Weird,” I said.

“We have our contestants for the 69th annual Humping Games,” the woman shouted to the crowd. Pita grabbed my hand and held our arms up to the cheers of everyone. This was gonna be great.

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