"The Point of Pinball"

© 2001
J. Mitch Hopper


What's the point of pinball? A fair question. To a pinball-purist, this story explains it well. Here is just a taste.
Note: this story contains scenes of graphic violence.

"Hey, buddy!" The deputy called. "That your car outside? The blue Buick?"

Frank pushed the button on the Buccaneer to start up another game. The games-to-play wheel cycled down to two and the machine coughed up a ball and came to life. Frank pulled the plunger starting the ball on its circuit again. As the bells started to chime, he yelled over his shoulder, "Sorry. Can't hear you over this racket. In a minute, ok?"

As he played out the ball, the deputy turned and had some quiet words with Wayne. A moment later, Wayne turned to the phone mounted on the wall behind the bar, picked up the receiver and made a call. The deputy spoke quietly into his collar radio.

"Damn!" Frank lost the ball between the flippers. "Not on my game tonight, darlin'."

"Frank, I think we'd better git' and we're not going out the front. That cop's not stupid. He knows who we are and what we done."

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere while I still got money in the pins. Now keep your eye on him while I finish this thing."

"Frankie, darlin'." Beth Anne moved around behind Frank and pulled herself up closely to him.

The deputy had his service weapon out and held forward in both hands.

"You back there! Come up here in the light where I can see you. Now!" The deputy raised his weapon and pointed directly at the pair. "Not going to ask you again. Move up here, nice and slow. Keep you hands where I can see em'."

Wayne dropped down behind the bar.

"Beth Anne, you go make nice with the constable. I'll be right - behind - you." Frank gave her a little wink and a smile.


Any of these stories may be purchased: $4.00 each -- 3 or more at $2.00 each (postage included).
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