RIP Dick Wertheim

What's better than a sunny day?

Literally anything, I hate the heat.

I'm not even having sex, and I'm soaked in sweat; the sun beats down relentlessly on me, and I begin to miss the rain.

Somehow, it went from a cool 74 degrees to what feels like the melting point of human flesh.

At least I'm doing something interesting today.

Standing outside the stadium, I take a deep breath, realizing tennis is not interesting at all.

"Tickets."

Handing the dismal minimum wage worker my ticket, he takes it and waves me in like cattle.

Fortunately, my deity of a bulletin board managed to get tickets to the supposedly famous tennis match. It's gotten more specific and extravagant as of recently... I should probably be more concerned as to what this phenomenon is.

That futures me's my problem, present me is trying to stay alive.

I don't know the first thing about tennis, so they could have two janitors playing and I would be none the wiser.

Buying an overpriced bottle of water, I sit down. Of course, it's outside, sitting in these cheap metal chairs, I begin to melt.

The crowd erupts as a cute woman comes skipping out.

I turn to the guy next to me. "Uh... whose that?"

He turns and gasps, "You don't know Lulu Lacroix? She's the tennis prodigy, dominating the tennis courts!" The man giggles with a giddy excitement. His eyes water with joy as though speaking of a goddess. "And she's cute to boot, what I wouldn't do for just a minute of her time. Just to breathe the same air as her would be an honor."

"Right." I nod slowly with uncertainty.

Alright, this guy is old enough to be her dad, so that's a little creepy.

The woman appears on the large screen. She has long blonde pigtails, with light blue ends. Her oversized blue and white shirt is tied at the bottom as it matches her short skirt.

"Today is the final round of the tournament. Lulu, do you have any words to say about the reigning champion?"

She gives a closed-eyed smile, continuing to wave to the fans. "I am blessed to be given such an opportunity. He seems to be the real deal." Opening her crystal blue eyes, she beams at the camera. "But I feel confident, I will come out the victor! Yay! Yay!"

She looks as though she's 22. Wow, really makes me feel incompetent, a famous tennis player a stark contrast to a 26 unemployed me. (._.)

"Well, your confidence is certainly radiating. So, Lulu, do you have anything to say to your fans?"

"I love you alllll!" Winking, she strikes a pose. "It's thanks to you all and your support that I stand here today, so give yourself a round of applause!" With abrupt and sporadic movements, she claps. "Yay! Yay!" She continues chanting. 

She happily waves, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers.

A majority of her fans are middle-aged dudes... I'm starting to think they also don't know a thing about tennis.

She certainly is cute, usually, these types of people are actors before sports players. Falsifying their emotions to gain the loyalty of fans... but her excitement seems pretty genuine.

I don't know how she's so energetic in this heat, though. If I were up there, I'd be a stick in the mud.

Finally, the match starts, and it is so thrilling! They hit the ball back and forth! Then they hit the ball back and forth... then they hit the ball back and forth.

People actually pay to watch this?

They used words like poach, which I thought was a way to cook eggs? Match set, love? Not sure what part of this I could love. And then the scoring system makes zero sense, it goes up in increments of 15? Then 10?

Just make it 1.

I have no clue how to read the score, but after an hour, Lulu looks dejected, and the stoic older man seems indifferent. So I can take an educated guess as to who's winning.

I was so enthralled by this grass growing match that I almost forgot to play my part as guardian angel. How does someone die playing tennis?

The next round starts, and Lulu's movements seem to be slowing down.

Is she tired?

The horde of middle-aged men cheer her on, their cheering causes a tsunami of sweat to rain down on me.

My eyes narrow as I look closer at her; her eyes don't seem to be fully open, she's panting for air, and if anything, she looks confused.

Her fans don't seem to see that she's clearly unwell, instead, they drool at the sight of her sweating body as it clings to her.

Shit, I have to do something, heatstroke, how could I not see this, Im not even playing and I feel like im going to die.

How do I get her attention?

Wait, no, I need to think about this.

This is a professional match. What if I'm just overreacting? I could end up disturbing everyone, ruining her chance at victory.

Trusting my gut, I stop thinking; instead, I act.

Grabbing my water bottle, I stumble down the stands.

Some people in the crowd gasp as they watch me barrel over them towards the court.

Leaping over the wall, I make my way towards Lulu.

"HEY!"

"GET HIM!"

Security chases after me, charging at me with violent intent.

My shoes patter against the court as I bolt to her side.

Lulu is panting for air, she slowly turns to me with wide eyes and bewilderment.

Standing there gasping for oxygen, I hold out my water bottle.

Straining a sweaty smile, I pant.

"Thirsty?"

"Th...an..k.s?" She takes the bottle from me.

Moments later, I hear that popping noise of a ball hitting a racket from the other side of the court.

In the next, I feel a ball slamming into my own pair.

There's an explosion of pain as I lurch forward, crossing my legs futilely trying to cover my exploded crotch.

Before I can understand what's happening, I'm tackled to the ground by a group of security guards.

My head slams to the ground as I am knocked out by the impac-