I will admit, I was in kind of a weird mood when I wrote this. But it makes me laugh, so I make no apologies.
It was like a nightmare, standing before crowds of drunken fans, naked, but for a Speedo. How had he gotten here?
The gun fired. Six people dived, followed by six wet slaps.
The water was Jello.
The crowd whooped. They’d known.
He pulled himself along, wallowing like an epileptic badger. Some got in his mouth: Tropical Fusion flavor, damn them.
He woke with a start in the locker room. It was a dream.
“Harrison, there you are!” the coach said from the door. “You got your 10-meter maple syrup dive in five minutes. Come on!”
He pinched himself.