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"Uh, now, now. Let's uh, work this thing out," responded a nervous Buddy, torn between the woman he loved
and the boy who shared his pain. "Let's get a bunch of whiskey and watch The Dukes of Hazard!"
"Shut up, you low-brow moron!" snapped back Ms. Smith, making Buddy upset and furious.
"Damn you boy! You ruined my chances of ever making sweet love to this woman!"
"What?" responded Mary Ann, "You sick freak!"
"Oh crud nuckets! Uh, forget about that!" Clearly, the peace process was failing miserably. Mary Ann
angrily left the premises, to return to her own home, muttering, "I should have had that abortion a long time
ago...." The next thing Buddy and Cory knew, pistol shots were being fired into Buddy's room, where he kept
most of his treasured objects, including his porn videos and his Pog collection. Mary Ann was firing the shots
from the window of her laundry room on the second floor, which directly faced Buddy's bedroom window.
Frantically, Buddy ran up into his room, waived his hands, and shouted "Stop right-" BLAM! He was shot
in the kneecap. Buddy managed to limp out of the room and into the hallway before Mary Ann could get off another
shot, and thereafter he sat with his back against the wall, in too much pain to get up. But worse than the pain
of being shot in the kneecap was the pain of having your heart broken by the woman you love (well not really, but
it makes for good story). Buddy decided that Ms. Smith meant nothing to him. She was nothing but a two-timing tramp.
Therefore, when Cory finally made it up the steps, Buddy instructed him to go downstairs into the den to retrieve
his shotgun and some shells. Cory, though yet again exhausted, obeyed.
Minutes later Cory emerged with Buddy's shotgun. Meanwhile, Mary Ann had been silently crouching in the laundry
room, her eyes peeking over the bottom ledge of the window. From this viewpoint she witnessed her son walk into
Buddy's bedroom, shotgun in hand, and point the gun at her. She had just enough time to duck before Cory took a
surprisingly well-aimed shot at her. Evidently all those years of Duck Hunt had paid off...sort of. Cory was even
surprised at himself. He had taken a shot at his own mother. And it felt good. For some reason, holding a gigantic
firearm and using it in an attempt to terminate the person who gave him life (or what little life he had in him)
gave Cory an exhilarating sense of power. For the first time in his life, Cory was in control, not the ball pit
at Sleazy Bobs', nor his mother, nor his weight counselor.
But as Cory savored his newfound sense of power, his mother rose again and took a shot at him. She missed, but
it did make Cory alert. They spent the next few minutes like that, one taking the shot and the other dodging out
of the way. Even the sluggish Cory managed to use quick reflexes when his life was on the line. Buddy just sat
there in the hallway, and occasionally threw some shells at Cory, for he always carried an unnecessary amount of
bullets in his pockets to look cool.
The first other person in the neighborhood to notice the calamity was Billy Leary, a kid about Cory's age, but
with half the weight and slightly more intellect. At the time, he was listening to punk music on headphones while
mowing the lawn. Billy looked across the street and saw the two adjacent houses getting small chunks blown out
of them, and heard the sounds of firearms. He then turned off his CD player and lawnmower, walked up a little closer
to the scene, and saw that the people taking shots at each other were Cory Smith and his mom. Upon witnessing the
shootout, Billy did the first thing that came to mind. He ran back inside his house, grabbed a drumstick and a
frying pan, and ran outside banging them together, shouting "MOTHER AND SON SHOOTOUT!!!" at the top of
his lungs like a town crier. He later added a "Hear ye! Hear ye!" to make it sound even more town crier-like.
But nevertheless it worked. In no time the whole street was out of their homes, stupefied by the sight of the gunfight.
Throughout human history violent brawls have often been among the most popular forms of entertainment, from the
Roman gladiator matches to the recent Fox News coverage of the war in Iraq. But this type of fight was unprecedented.
A stressed out mother and her obese, foolish son furiously exchanging bullets, in the middle of Sunday, within
a middle-class neighborhood in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Nobody called the police, or did anything to try and break
up the fight. They were too busy gaping in awe. Except for Billy, the new self-administered promoter of the event.
He was running all over town, banging his drumstick to his pan, trying to draw to the scene as many people as possible.
As for Cory and his mom, they didn't even notice the massive crowd watching them. They just kept duking it out.
Occasionally, one of them would get nipped by a bullet, causing small injuries. But it was clear that this was
a fight to the death, and neither side would be giving in very easily....
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