Another glorious morning at the Speedway was unfolding as the late nighters finally begin to wake up. It was in the vicinity of about 7:30 or 8:00, give or take, and the Bloody Marys were being mixed faster than you can say "I know you have been making these for a long time, but I'm pretty sure this one needs more booze in it".
With Bloody Mary in hand I lit up a smoke, took a deep hit off of it, and started my routine assessment of the previous night's debauchery. "Nothing strange here", I thought to myself. "Let's see ... we've got a half eaten sandwich of some sort, a bra, a sh*tload of empty cans and something that looks like a turkey baster with hunting scope on it. Nope, everything's in order here".
About then, Brian "Cheerios" Cherolis came up to me, offered a toast to which I gladly accepted, and began joking about the level of intoxicated bliss he'd reached the night before. Not wanting him to feel alone, I mentioned that I too was pretty tore up and might have been the most banged-up person with the exception of his sister, Amy, who was en route to a potential Rookie of the Year title.
- Sparky: "Yeah, dude. Your sister was pretty f*cking mangled last night. Sheezus!"
- Cheerios: (laughing) "Yeah, what can you do? Hopefully she didn't do something stupid."
- Sparky: "Well, I guess we'll just have to ask her. I don't think she's up yet."
- Cheerios: "Ok then, time to go wake her a$$ up. C' mon!"
Now, this seemed like a pretty harmless exercise. We would go over to Amy's tent, maybe yell at her a little bit ... shake her, p|ss on the pillow, whatever. Nothing big, just enough to wake her up and hopefully induce a small headache. A simple, friendly harassment to get her up and moving.
As we rounded the corner of the camper, an odd sight came into view: there was Amy's tent, exactly where it was supposed to be. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. Except for the smaller tent balanced precisely on the very top of it, somehow staying centered as the morning wind calmly rocked it from side to side and spun it in a clockwise direction.
I began laughing, thinking that it took someone a long time to get this thing balanced on top of the larger tent. I looked over at Cheerios to see what his take on the situation was. His expression was not one of amusement, but rather bewilderment and horror. "That's Adducio's tent", he said quietly.
Trying to explain the sheer odd nature of this image would be almost impossible. Therefore, I've created a diagram to help illustrate:
With each step we drew closer to Amy's tent, and with each step a new level of understanding seemed to unfold. Andy Adducio was not in his tent, for it was currently perched on top of Amy's tent, and neither one of them had been seen yet this morning.
I slowed to a stop, then casually began walking backwards at the same pace that Cheerios was moving forward. His calmness gave way to a shaking that resembled a pot of water nearing its boiling point as he spoke through clenched teeth. "You f*cking better not be in there, Andy!"
Movement in the tent. Rapid movement triggered by the sound of Cheerios' voice, to be exact. The giggle of a female emerged from the tent and sent a wall of flames upward in Cheerios' eyes, seemingly blinding him to his surroundings and all consequences. He snatched up the flap of the tent, yanking up on the zipper and spreading the doors wide open. "This is going to be an a$$ beating" I said to myself as I tried not to laugh out loud.
- Cheerios: (not laughing) "Get out here you mother f*cker!"
- Amy: "Knock it off, Brian!"
- Andy: (from somewhere inside the tent)"Holy sh*t!"
- (Cheerios disappears inside the tent from waist up)
- Cheerios: "You are so f*cking dead!"
- Andy: "Dude, I didn't do anything!"
This brief exchange is followed by one of the funniest sights I've ever seen. As the upset, no, enraged Cheerios extracts himself from the tent, he drags Andy out into a clearing where he can reign blows upon him. Andy desperately grabs at the tent door and rakes his fingers on the ground in a lame attempt to slow the mutant juggernaut that is now Cheerios.
- Cheerios: "What did you do?!"
- Amy: "Brian, stop it!"
- Andy: "Holy sh*t!"
- Cheerios: "I'm going to rip your d*ck off and beat you with it!"
At this point I have stopped trying to stifle my laughter and have taken a knee, using the bumper to balance myself as others appear around the end of the camper. Laughing, I try to add fuel to the fire by shouting out absolutely untrue statements such as "Was that you guys that kept me up all night? That sh*t was LOUD, man!"
Andy, who has somehow managed to regain his feet, tries to break free of his attacker's grip. Unsuccessful, he is swung around in a series of dizzying circles that vaguely resemble a children's playground game. Cheerios eventually tires and releases his captive, sending Andy into one final twirl towards freedom. Andy stabilizes himself and drops to a defensive guard.
As the combatants trade glances, the air previously thick with anticipation gives way to laughter and those making juvenile "humping" sound effects. Brian begins to walk back to the front of the camper, giving Andy a look that can only mean "we're done for now, but I might beat your a$$ later".
A couple of hours later, it was Andy who made a statement by emerging from the camper with a potentially inappropriate tshirt. It was black and white and in simple, plain lettering said "RIDE IT HARD". And while this didn't exactly help to calm Cheerios down, it was funny to everyone else and therefore deemed appropriate, if not down right hilarious.
That weekend would continue on just like any other, as the sun rose and set without complication. Still, it seemed like Andy was always looking over his back, as though somebody were watching him.
Somebody like big brother.
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