DampAss contemplated the offer. On the one hand he knew that he was in good enough shape to play. But he really resented having to play for free. He didn’t see why Nike or some other corporation couldn’t fork over the money to make it worth his while. After all, everyone knows that you have to spend money to make money. And since he was the top bill, he figured that for one cool million his presence alone would attract ten million more. The Haitians would get some food and he could make bank.
But of course GaGassi had to jump ahead and commit himself for free. Always the damn show-off, GaGassi the drunken drug user was determined to clean up image and make like he was always a good guy when everybody and his mother knew that he was nothing but an over-rated Vegas hustler. DampAss knew that he now had no choice - he would play Indian Wells for charity.
On top of his financial stress, he now had to contend with that damn memoir that was selling like hot cakes. At least GaGassi had the courage to admit in it how many times he had lost to DampAss. But did he have to tell the world that DampAss was cheap and didn’t like to tip? And what was up with all that crap about marrying actresses? Not all actresses were like GaGassi’s mannish ex-wife. Mrs. DampAss was a wonderful female woman and a fantastic wife. At least she was when she was speaking to him.
He would have preferred to get his revenge against GaGassi in singles. The thought of beating him for the umpteenth time brought the first smile to his lips that he had had in weeks. He started reminiscing about the many times he had crushed him in his career. His favorite was the last win, the one for the ages, the instant classic at the US Open. As he replayed the sweet points in his mind, he found himself becoming aroused, excited.
DampAss wondered where his wife was. It had been a while since he got some nookie. Ever since he decided to put their mansion on the market, she had stopped talking to him. He tried explaining that this was how he made his money now that he no longer had tennis endorsements. He reminded her of the mansion he had sold for over 20 million a couple of years ago. This was no different. But she loved this home and didn’t want to part with it. Since his decision to sell, she had moved permanently to the east wing. His nights had become lonely, cold, nookie-less. DampAss sighed deeply in frustration.
In the end they decided to make it a doubles affair. He and his former nemesis against the big butt Spaniard and Mr. Pigeon-Toe. DampAss chuckled to himself. There was no way he would lose. He felt the thrill of competition returning. He would relish the chance to take out his frustration on the bald-headed buffoon.
The tournament had the idea of using headsets so that they have some fun. DampAss liked fun as much as the next person, but with Mr. Bow-Legged on the other side of the court and no nookie in weeks, he wasn’t sure he could maintain his smile.
Things got off to a good start. Everyone held their serve. The crowd was happy, involved. Everyone was joking and making the crowd laugh. DampAss decided to try his hand at a joke. He started to imitate Baldy’s pigeon-toed walk. Frankly he thought he did a great job. He snickered with pleasure as he hustled back and forth, his butt wiggling like he was in a gay pride parade. He hoped his wife was watching. The thought of some make-up nookie inspired him to try harder. The crowd roared it’s delight.
He figured that GaGassi would mock him back by letting his tongue fall out of his mouth and then wiping the sweat off his forehead with a finger. That he could handle. But no, GaGassi had to go there. He emptied his pockets and made a joke about DampAss’ poor tipping. It was a low blow. DampAss strained to keep the smile on his face. Inside he seethed with rage. He wanted to hit him. And the next thing he knew he was serving a bullet down the wrong side of the court, hoping to hit Baldy in the face. He had to admire how light-footed the old goat was as he jumped out of the way.
They both pretended it was no big deal, that it was just a joke. But DampAss remained angry. Back home his wife was just as furious. “You should have hit him in the balls!”, she screamed. He was so thrilled that she was finally speaking to him again that he immediately stopped caring about Baldy. And that night she rewarded him with some of the sweetest nookie he had gotten in years. If he knew that this was the prize for getting publicly humiliated by Lady GaGassi, he would sign up for a ton of more charity tournaments.