We felt everyone on the team could play and contribute – with the exception of Tim. Tim had never played ball. It appeared that Tim had never thrown...a ball or swung a bat, much less ever hit a baseball. Tim showed up for practice with the only baseball glove that the family owned, a relic from Sherry’s Dad’s playing days in the 1940’s. The glove had big fat fingers and no webbing. You caught the ball in the palm of the glove or you didn’t catch it – period. I gave Tim my glove to practice with. I found him as a bloody mass of torn flesh, and there was not a sign of life. Okay, I no longer had this galoot to worry about, but what about the rest of them? I figured that it would be foolish for me to tempt fate by standing up, so I crawled toward the overturned table. There were three men lying there, and all three were dead. That was the good news, but the bad news was that one of my buckshot pellets had punched a hole in the coffeepot, and now it was damned near empty!Well, there was. " Melissa answered, pointing at Rick's bobbing cock. "Listen, I'm running this mission. You might be top cock, but I call the shots. Understand?" I gotcha." Rick answered. "You don't really like me do you?" It's nothing personal, it's just that I think you're a loose cannon, I think you're going to fail when the chips are down." She said, venting a little. "I had my team all picked out, trained and ready to go. You came along and fucked it up." Sorry." Rick offered."And now I have to do. When I arrive I am told to ride the stationary bike to warm up my knee and muscles. I do that and when completed I head to the therapy area and I am told to hop on the table laying on my back. In she comes and has a very warm welcome for me and even though I can't see her smile because of the mask I can see it in her eyes.She begins with some small talk then professional questions about my knee. She feels around the knee then runs her hands over my quads then on my hamstrings. She tells me.