“The Super Wheels Super Tournament” - A Satirical, Short Story

When I was six years old, my consciousness arrived and I noticed that I was not like the other girls. While all my classmates, the girl scout troop, and once my own mother resembled the ‘standards’ of an ordinary girl; I resembled the characteristics of a small Viking.

At age six I was five foot seven, two hundred pounds, and my skin emitted a vibrant red glow. The doctors told my mom I was an abomination to mankind and a force of evil. My mom said I was just special.

“You are a beautiful flower,” my mother would say. She was a dainty woman who raised me alone. Neither of us knew who my father was. Seriously, my mother claimed she had always been lesbian, and like my unexplainable size, that question too was unexplainable.

“I feel like a tree stump,” I said in my deafening, demonic voice.

As I grew up a little, or should I say, as I broke the six-foot threshold, and smashed all logical weight expectations for a normal woman, or rather human; I entered the eighth grade.

At this point, I was well-known around the schoolyard for my humongous and threatening appearance. Kids at school trembled when I came around. They would scatter and hide in whatever they could find on account of my massive presence.

One time I caught a kid off guard by the water fountain. I suppose I cornered him. There was nowhere for him to go so he had no choice but to crawl into the tee-shirt of another kid, to which that kid climbed into another kid’s shirt, and then all three of them jumped out a third-story window together. It made me very sad.

One day I was walking home from school. I had been banned from riding the bus due to suspension issues and ‘inducing unwarranted trauma’. I began to take the same route through downtown, past all of the shot-up houses and crack dens. I stuck to this route since it was almost always desolate, and I wouldn’t bother civilians along my way. Today was different.

“My friend, my friend,” a tiny voice cried out.

I looked around and then down by my kneecap to see a very feeble old man wiping his forehead. He was profusely sweating but appeared inquisitively happy.

“Hi,” I said in the most non-threatening voice I could. A window broke in the distance.

Nobody other than my mother talked to me, not even the teachers at school. I’ve never been called for attendance, questioned, greeted, or spoken to in any manner. Last week, I broke the tip of a pencil in class which caused several kids to have panic attacks all at the same time. We had to go into lockdown that day.

“I’ve seen you walk this way many times. I think you’d be a great fit for my roller derby league. There is a cool prize for the winning team of the championship,” he said trembling. I noticed through his shaking he was trying to rub his hands together.

“Ok,” I said, and to be honest with you, I wasn’t so much interested in roller skating; I was just really bored.

“Take these and come back here tomorrow.” He handed me a pair of size W18 roller skates and walked back toward this big warehouse that was behind us. His pants were soaked with pee but the man looked thrilled. I examined the building and my skates and for the first time in my life, I smiled.

I told my mother at dinner. She was in the middle of beheading the pig roast.

“Mama I’m gonna be a part of the derby. I’m gonna win the prize mama.”

My mom burst into a fit of joy. She threw the pork-coated machete into the air and it landed, point down into my resting forearm. It bounced off my arm, shattered into a million pieces, and then disintegrated.

My mom was so happy. I picked her up and cradled her like a baby in my massive arms. She showered me in kisses. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

The next morning I broke in my roller skates.

I raced to school. I outran the school bus, the monorail, and the 7:00 AM flights. I wore my skates the entire day, molding them to my toes and heel. Throughout my classes, all I could do was daydream and wonder about the event, my team, and the prize.

My confidence was overflowing. I had no doubts about myself. Even though I had never actually seen a roller derby contest in person I felt I was educated enough for what was in store. I watched a YouTube video.

“There are the blockers and jammers.” I thought from the back of the classroom.

Four blockers stop one jammer from scoring points, and the jammers are in charge of lapping the blockers to gain points. Each blocker that’s passed by a jammer is one point and they must make a full lap around the roller ring.

I figured the tiny man expected me to be a blocker for obvious reasons.

The final school bell rang and I made a full dash toward the warehouse.

This big banner was pinned up outside the warehouse that read:

‘The Super Wheels Super Tournament: Roller Derby Extravaganza’.

Lots of cars were parked outside. I tightened my skates.

I rolled inside and was greeted by a decently crowded room. There were tons of people in the stands and plenty of derby participants. I was met with the usual horrified looks and expressions I’d normally get. A couple of old ladies fainted. Luckily there were ambulances onsite.

“You made it. E-Excellent!” The tiny man quivered. I met my teammates who were equally terrified and got ready with my gear. I was given kneepads, wrist guards, hair ties, and a shiny silver helmet. The tiny man slapped a sticker the circumference of a truck’s tire on the backside of my helmet. “That star means you are a jammer.” He paused. “You know what to do.”

Oh yes, I did.

I guess my expectations of my role were wrong. I wasn’t gonna block ‘nobody. I was gonna be the one lapping these girls. I was the jammer.

Gazing out into the stands, I saw my mother shooting me a thumbs-up. She was crying the same tears as last night, likely without any break, all because she was happy to see her daughter finally allowed a part of something.

My soul bubbled. I felt like I found my calling.

All of the girls lined up on the roller track. Never in my life had I felt more amped.

The ref blew his whistle and we were off.

I dug my toe into the wood floor and bolted outwards.

I gotta give the opposing girls credit. Their blockers attempted to stop me.

They all linked together and prayed to their God.

I broke through their barrier, severing their arms.

I rounded the derby ring in 2.8 seconds. My strides were growing longer, faster, and more powerful.

My teammates stood solid in awe, frozen on the track like mile markers on a highway, as I continuously bolted around the opposing team. My blockers watched me in utter, paralyzed shock.

Meanwhile, their blockers sat on the floor crying and flailing their stumps. My speed instantly cauterized their fleshy wounds, searing their nubbed arms like pork steaks. The opposing team’s jammer was too busy picking up loose limbs to even try to gain a point. Her face was blank and her eyes unblinking as she cradled their limbs.

It was futile for them anyway. So I just kept going.

I racked up seventy-five points within the two minutes we were given.

After only one round of derby, they called the event and granted our team the prize. My teammates were still shellshocked and just stood there wide-eyed looking at the ground or hiding their faces in their hands. I proudly went to receive our prize.

“You’re gonna go far kid,” the tiny man said to me. He was ghost white and counting a bundle of bills in his hands.

The announcer carefully handed me a certificate to Red Robin and ran away screaming. So did everyone else - except mother.

My name is Banshee Tenebris, ‘the Destroyer of Worlds’ and I’m a winner.