it's high noon >> jimmaye&enzo

Jim kicks the stack of horseshoes with the toe of his boots. Maybe there are better things for him to be doing right now while bringing in the new year. Though spending it with friends, playing a VERY competitive match that could so easily turn dirty seems top tier enough.

”Get off that high horse, Enzo. The night is early!” So Jimmy is a sore loser. Second best is just not it and he prefers the red rosettes to blue anyway. He picks up his shoe from the stack, waiting for his turn to make the winning throw.

”Don’t think you are going to get another throw like that.” He says, the bitterness already building as his opponent makes quite a spectacular shot. James grits his teeth as he kicks up the dirt with the soles of his boots, getting into the professional looking stance so he can make the perfect shot…

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So playing cocky before making his first throw was a poor move, at least the peg rattled and there is the 1 point in the bag. One is better than zero in Jim’s books. Then goes another flying shoe, right past the goal post and James chuckles. ”I think I am going to end this game long before midnight.”

Jimbo picks up his next U shaped metal horse booties, strategically planning the perfect angle to throw his next shot. Not that even knows how numbers work and all of that complicated stuff but the looking professional act is something he is good that.

”That’s not good enough, I clean out the goat stall everyday!” Enzo draws out a lame assed forfeit, Jimmy carries a fork around everyday, it is nothing out of the ordinary. ”How about the loser has to clean the stall out with their bare hands. No tools. No gloves!”

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”Ok we can use gloves…”

The tread on the soles of Jimmy’s boot thumps hard against the dirt ground, flicking up a cloud of dust with his mini tantrum. His latest shot takes a beeline to the woods and well, maybe the white flag is beginning to slowly inch out of his pocket.

No giving up just yet!

It is not going to be him with hands-full of pee filled straw and goat shit in a few hours time. He is going to make sure of that…

”The only winds that you will be adjusting is the one coming out of ya ass!”

Third time lucky??

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”FUUCCCKKKKKKK!” The dirt cloud at his feet is a little bigger this time. The shoe takes an even wider birth, disappearing into some far beyond hedgerow to the east.

If he was ten years younger, he would on the floor right now slamming his fists in the dirt. Though if Jimmy misses this next shot too then he may well be.

What a big fucking loser!

No he cannot lose. There is no way he is picking up ammonia stinking bits of straw while Enzo laughs in his face. There is no way! He wants to be the one laughing in Enzo’s face.

”You just had beginners luck!” He says as Enzo’s next shot goes off piste too. ”HAHA! I am just warming up okay? This will be a winning shot, I swear on it!”

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”HA! LOOK AT THAT! I TOLD YOU SO! Back in the match baby!”

“NO FREAKING WAY! You just copied my shot!” The highs and lows of playing a competitive game for Jimmy. His forehead is literally swamped with sweat right now, he is pretty sure the pits of his beige shirt are damp and dripping too. And for what?

”We need an actual physical prize for the winner Enzo.” He picks up his next shot from the pile, moving to the thrower’s position. ”I am going to enjoy watching you pick up shit with your fingers but I want an actual trophy too!”

Not just physically but Jimmy’s head is just too big. It is miracle he survived the orphanage without getting a few fists to his face, there are just a few scars here and there where one of the kids threw something at him for pissing them off.

”Watch this one, I am on a winning streak now.”

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SCREAMING LITERAL SCREAMING. SOBBING.

If his pride was not on the table right now, there would be literal tears breaching his cheeks. It is too late to suddenly turn and accept the result with some dignity, the tantrums and the meltdowns have already been dished out. He is just glad there is no audience but an audience would have added a little more spice to this event... Maybe Enzo would have fumbled a little with some stage fright… It has been awhile since Jimmy’s friend was in the spotlight.

”Next time we play this, we are doing a whole tournament with a crowd. Then we will see who the real champion is!”

It just a friendly between two pals. Nothing serious…

There is some relief in watching Enzo’s shot kiss the ring rather than land on it. This next one is all or nothing for Jimbo, he needs to make the bullseye.

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”You have given me dud shoes! It is the shoes, they were on a lame ass mule or something!!”

”I’d want a crowd so they could watch my comeback!” Jimmy is literally hanging on by his well trimmed fingernails right now. The ankles of his trousers are stained with the dirt he has been kicking up with angst of being the biggest loser of two losers who are wasting time out in the middle of the night right now. ”Everyone loves an underdog story, they will back me! I am a dark horse! Watch out Enzo…”

Okay this is the all or nothing shot. It needs to be well calculated. Well executed. Well everything!!

Jimmy balances the horse shoe in his palm, actually taking time to figure out the perfect toss with his wrists towards the target. It so simple, he did it a few minutes ago.

He copies his field pal, commentating his next throw. ”And the underdog takes his next shot, he knows this is his only chance to get back in the game, and he…”

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”bags himself a point! HA!”