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Old 07-21-2007, 10:25 AM   #8
ptps
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Default Pick and Roll [G] Wilt-centric

A/N: These are 30 100-word drabbles, using prompts taken from the 30_cracks community on LiveJournal. It roughly details my ideas of what happened in-between Wilt’s creation, to the events before, during and after the movie “Good Wilt Hunting”. If you haven’t yet seen the movie, please don’t read any further as this contains SPOILERS. I hope you like it.

As a side note, the numbers at the beginning of each prompt do NOT correspond to the reading order. (Example: "!5.First Time" is the 1st drabble, not the 15th. ) Just read them in the order that I've posted them.


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Title: Pick and Roll
Rating: G
Character/s: Wilt, Jordan, Foster's gang
Word Count: 3116
FFnet link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3671523/1/Pick_and_Roll

x x x x x x

15. First Time

It took Jordan five seconds to realize the ball he was angrily bouncing had stopped bounding back into his hands. Ten more to take in the full height of the really tall… red… thing… that definitely hadn’t been standing there two seconds ago.

“Hey, how’re you doing? Name’s Wilt.”

Twenty minutes for the Imaginary Friend to chase him down, tell him to stop panicking, and that he wasn’t here to squash him.

“Pretty fast for a small kid.” Wilt collapsed back beside Jordan, panting. “Good stamina, too.”

“Don’t call me small!”

Silence. Then…

“…y’really think so?”

Thus began their friendship.

2. Toys

“Me, a plush toy?” Wilt repeated, twitching.

“I can’t think of nothing!” Jordan wrung his hands. “If my bro knew about you, he might… pick on me more, or something.”

Wilt frowned. “Like I’d – ”

“Or Mam,” he interrupted. “Don’t think she’s gonna be happy about the extra mouth. I’ll share my food and everything, ‘course, b-but…”

“Okay, okay.” Wilt gave a resigned sigh.

Jordan grinned. “Alright. Remember: play dead ‘til we get you to my room.”

* * *
“What you got there, runt?”

“Plush toy. Got it for… um… a… quarter.”

Wilt did his best to shrivel silently.

16. Are you Sure?

“Jordan, I’m sorry, but I really don’t think – ”

“Shush, Wilt, relax.”

“ – I honestly don’t think – ”

“I’ve been practicing, haven’t I? It’ll be fine.”

“Well… okay,” Wilt allowed, albeit reluctantly, “but I still kinda wish your brother hadn’t booked the court for a full day today.”

“Shush.”

“Sorry.”

Eyes on the backboard… Aim… and shoot!

“ARGH!”

“Ack! Wilt, I’m so sorry, are you okay? Oh man, that wasn’t cool - ”

“I am never,” Wilt groaned, untangling his arms and rubbing his face where the ball had smacked him, “volunteering myself as a hoop and backboard ever again.”

8. Don't Cry

There was only one time when Jordan refused to allow Wilt to see him until three hours later.

“I wasn’t crying,” Jordan scowled, his eyes red and puffy, “and it wasn’t because of my stupid brother, either.”

“Ummm.” Wilt couldn’t lie if his life depended on it, so he switched tracks. “Let’s train a little harder tomorrow. We’ll practice together until you can get your hoops right, alright?”

Jordan hugged Wilt’s legs. Then his shoulders started shaking.

Words that should have come from his brother. Wilt said nothing, but carried off the child so he could pat him to sleep.

11. Books

“…and so it crashed into the earth, wiping out every living thing!”

“Borrrrrrriiingggg.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want to hear about asteroids.” Jordan began bouncing on his bed. “Tell me again about how that Chamberlaid dude won the game!”

“…Chamberlain?”

“Chammbelait,” Jordan agreed. “C’mon, Wilt! Or, or how that other dude did the slam dunk, and the ball like, totally rebounded and knocked out the referee!”

“You know, most kids? They like bedtime stories. Not basketball narrations.”

“I’m not ‘most kids’. I’m your kid.”

“And you’re a handful.” Wilt sighed, but obliged, smiling. “And with only three seconds to go…”

3. Ice Cream

They stay away from snacks. It’s one of Wilt’s regulations: “If you wanna grow up tall and strong, you’ve gotta eat right.” Jordan loves junk food, but basketball has more importance in his life, and since Wilt’s creation he’s been stuffing himself with salads and fruits and frantically measuring himself every alternate day.

It’s a hot, cloudless afternoon with practically no shadows and he’s sweating buckets when Wilt gives him an ice cream cone.

He stares.

“…Nothing wrong with a little indulgence.” Wilt flashes that trademark grin of his.

Jordan licks it, and swears that ice cream comes from heaven.

31. Cool

“You’re amazing,” Jordan says for the thousandth time, from where Wilt’s giving him a piggyback.

“I’m not,” is the immediate, humbled reply, “you played fantastic, too.”

“Couldn’t have won that match without you.” Wilt feels his kid hug his neck a little tighter, sighing happily. “You’re the best Imaginary Friend in the world, Wilt. And don’t deny it, or I’ll hit ya.”

Wilt turns one of his eyestalks back towards Jordan and sticks his tongue out, but doesn’t rebut the praise.

“And you’re the best kid in the world.”

It is, overall, one of the best days in their lives.

9. Soaking Wet

Rain helps the flowers to grow, Wilt reminded himself as he ran. It keeps the earth living. It makes pretty rainbows and it numbs you so you can’t feel pain. Rain is a good thing.

But it hurt. It hurt like it was eating him alive, his mangled arm and his messed-up eye and the painful constrictive tightness in his chest.

Rain covers your tracks. Wilt kept running. It was too wet to differentiate rain from tears now. Rain hides you. And while it lasts, it makes sure Jordan will never need to see the loser you are ever again.

25. I don't want to die yet

When he next awoke, it wasn’t raining, he wasn’t lying in an alley, and his left arm was almost completely gone.

Infection, a stranger beside his bed told him, and crush trauma, muscle damage and other terms he couldn’t comprehend. He was to rest and recuperate until he was well enough to walk around.

They placed something cool on his head, drew the curtains shut. Funny, Jordan’s room didn’t have curtains…

He must have mumbled something, because the lady chuckled. “Welcome, dearie, to Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends.”

That was the last thing he heard before the darkness reclaimed him.

6. Curiosity

The tall, gangly one-armed freak lopping through the hallways swiftly became a topic that was usually brought up during breakfast hours. Because he kept to himself so often and hardly ever spoke, no one really knew who he was, or how he came to be in that condition. Theories went flying every morning.

At length one of the braver Friends made a trip to the hospital wing to poise the all-famous question: What happened?

But the question remained unanswered, and none of the Friends ventured to ask about it anymore. The look in his eyes, they said, was too sad.

32. Say hello to hell

Reality only really hit him when he tried to take a shot and actually missed.

He’d done countless one-handed shots before. But he’d never missed. Never. This felt different, strange. He was off-balanced. Missing something that would normally counter his motions.

And the hoop. He couldn’t measure his distance from it, or how hard he needed to throw the ball anymore.

He couldn’t even find solace in the one thing he was made to do: play basketball.

Wilt crumpled to the floor, curled up his legs and wrapped his remaining arm around himself.

“So it wasn’t a nightmare,” he murmured.

10. Messenger

Mr. Herriman snapped when Wilt missed his third meal.

“You are a fine Friend, Master Wilt, but most children prefer Friends who would give them hope and encouragement, not add to their depression!” he’d roared. “SHAPE UP!”

He came storming back again when Wilt missed the following breakfast.

“I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU – ”

“ – Sorry, Mr. H. I gotta practice.” Wilt held up the basketball he was carrying and waved the rabbit a cheerful goodbye as he headed for the court. “But I’ll drop by for lunch.”

“…HOUSE RULES!” Herriman yelled, exasperated, but by then Wilt was long gone.

27. Line between Love and Hate

For the first time, Wilt found basketball frustrating.

Countless shots, countless misses. Again and again the ball would hit the rim, bounce off, or wobble indecisively on its edge before toppling off the wrong way.

Still, Wilt kept trying. Aiming and missing. Always missing, but never giving up.

Then finally – finally – a single ball arced through the air, bounced off the backboard, and sailed flawlessly through the hoop. One goal out of hundreds that missed – but it was the most satisfying goal he’d made in his entire existence.

He’d missed lunch. Wilt grinned. Mr. Herriman was going to be pissed.

24. Blush

He’d never really gotten along with Eduardo or Coco until the day they’d accidentally freed the Extreme-O-Saur from its cage.

The objective was to get it back into the cage with minimal damage to property and beings before the house woke up.

The mission was failing.

“I’ll distract it! You two get help!” Wilt yelled.

Ed had protectively herded him away from the monster and back towards the house.

“You es already lost one arm, dummy, I no letting you lose the other! Go!”

Then he and Coco resumed Wilt’s job of running in circles and screaming.

“…brilliant,” Wilt said.

1. Transform

“Madame?”

“Yes, Bunny?”

“Pardon my saying this, but… Master Wilt seems… different.”

“Hmm?”

“That is to say, er, his behavior seems to have taken a turn for… the better.”

“But of course, Bunny. He’s living in my house.”

“…that aside, Madame…”

“Surely you didn’t think Wilt was always the way we first found him?”

“I, er…”

“You’re looking at the true Wilt now, Bunny. This charming, loyal, pleasant young fellow. Not the one that was sagging all over the floorboards and growing mold in a corner.”

“…growing… mold?”

“Magnificent, isn’t it? Such a wonderful fellow.”

“…Yes, Madame. Indeed he is.”

Last edited by ptps; 07-21-2007 at 10:30 AM.
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