After 21 entries, the story is finished!! Here it is!

"I love Thunderstorms !" -- started by betty
The esteemed authors and their contributions are: betty(9) greg(5) bonnie(5) xander(2)
 Story #165. Finished on 6/10/2019.

Yes, it is in my genes to like thunderstorms! My grandfather used to stand in the doorway and watch them as he listened to the roar of the crowd and the empassioned shouting of the MC as the local wrestling favorite, "Thunderstorms", vaulted into the ring. He flexed mightily, showing off the lightning bolt tattoos on his bulging biceps, and the crowd got even louder, if that were possible. Steve's date, Maria, had to yell to be heard over the noise, saying "I love salsa! Bring me salsa smothered on tortilla chips and layered with the scents of earth and cut grass." Indeed, thunderstorms are a dramatic immersion for the senses. Even the air felt electrified. The soft hair on my arms was lifting up! My scalp was tingling! And the popping in my ears was like I had never felt before ! Almost like I was back at wrestling training camp in Louisville, Kentucky. I was barely a stick of a kid back then but I had big dreams. Dreams of glory, lights, adoration, and colorful knit ski masks. Within just a couple weeks, I had already earned a cool nickname, which I've used to this day. That name was: Earl. So the thing about a thunderstorm in the daytime is that it creates a pensive mood, full of mystery and eerie intrigue....plus a dash of danger! Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows. And you know who else knows? Why of course: Thunderstorms' trainer, big brother, and Union Jack-adorned fellow wrestler, London Bridge. Bridge was the broadest of wrestlers in the league, and about twice as wide as a mere mortal. He tried not to walk sideways to get through most doorways but he had to anyway, and he took in stride when the rest of us ribbed him about it. "Quit working out, Bridge, or else we're gonna have to rub butter on your shoulders in order for you to leave!" etc. etc. But he was a good guy with a big heart. When we asked him if he had heard the news, he said "On a day when it's rainy and stormy all day, that's the best kind of day to just relax in your favorite chair, read a book and take a nap. But be sure that the nap is not too long, because if it is too long it will make you fall asleep. I barely got 30 pages into Atlas Shrugged." He then went back to playing his video game, and I was left to my own devices as far as getting the electricity going again in the house. It was dark, I could not play my games, all in all, I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck going 80 mph. Time slowed down as my brain tried to make sense of the calamity which had just happened to me. Bones and joints moved in unnatural ways and the pain which I knew was coming took its own sweet time to arrive, which confused my brain even more. I was still lucid enough to know I was falling toward the mat, and out of the corner of my bloodshot eyes I could see the towering frame of London Bridge, shaking with laughter, as he said "When is the pizza guy going to get here?!! If I have to wait any longer, I will have to make a point to go to bed early tonight. It's so soothing to listen to the thunder rolling while reading a book about the Oregon Trail. It took 5 grueling months to go from St. Louis to their destination. And when they got there they found lots of fancy chocolate truffles." True to his word, he pulled a variety of gourmet chocolates from his pocket and unwrapped one, eating it in a single bite. Licking his fingers, he discovered a bleeding hangnail! Ooops! He had visions of staph infection permeating his body. I must take care of that he frantically thought! Maybe the best remedy would be to accept that you can't do laundry if the power is out. So just relax and admire the autograph. "You rock! Love, Thunderstorms", it read in a barely legible hand. Thunderstorms was never known for his verbosity. He wasn't known for much besides being a great wrestler. But he was also my friend. A bit of a lunkhead friend, though, considering when I asked him to give us an autograph, he grabbed the nearest thing to do it on. And now you know why this IHOP menu is framed and hanging on the wall.

THE END!

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