Golf ball gets into a fight with her rival, snowba
Golf ball gets into a fight with her rival, snowball. After she is left with a black eye and a few cuts and her glasses a bit broken. Her husband, tennis ball, helps her clean up.
Golf Ball huffed, her dimpled surface radiating heat. “You little…” she started, but Snowball cut her off with a jeering laugh.
“Oh, look, it’s Golf Ball, all wound up like a tight spring,” Snowball mocked, her pristine white surface gleaming with smugness. “What’s the matter, Golfie? Can’t handle a little friendly competition?”
Golf Ball clenched her teeth, her dimples deepening with fury. “Friendly? You call rolling down a hill and leaving me face-down in the mud friendly?”
Snowball’s laughter rang out, echoing through the deserted park. “Oh, come on, you made a big fuss about it, but it was just a little tumble. You’re always so serious, Golfie. It’s not like you lost your dimples, or anything.”
That was it. Golf Ball couldn’t take it anymore. This constant, passive-aggressive rivalry had gone too far. She wasn’t sure why Snowball hated her so much. Maybe it was envy, seeing Golf Ball’s perfect white dimples, her perfectly round form, always pristine after every round, while Snowball ended up a messy, muddy mess.
“You’re a liar!” Golf Ball snapped, her anger pushing her forward. “And you’re jealous!”
Snowball’s eyes narrowed. “Jealous? You think I want to be you? Stuck in a bag, used and abused by people who never appreciate your beauty? You’re just a glorified target!”
Before Snowball could finish her barb, Golf Ball lunged. She was smaller than Snowball, but her anger propelled her, sending her rolling towards her rival with surprising force. A collision of white and white ensued, a flurry of rolling, bumping, and jostling. Golf Ball, spurred by rage, managed to get in a few good hits, leaving Snowball with a few small cracks on her pristine surface.
But Snowball fought back. Her size and agility gave her an advantage, and soon she was pinning Golf Ball against a rough rock. Golf Ball felt a sharp pain as Snowball’s edge scraped against her side, leaving a jagged cut. Then, a swift, hard blow from Snowball sent Golf Ball spinning, leaving her breathless and dizzy.
When Golf Ball finally came to a stop, she saw her reflection in a nearby puddle. Her face was bruised, a dark blue mark forming around her left eye, and her glasses were slightly askew, one of the arms bent at an awkward angle.
She felt a sharp pang of sadness. Her beloved glasses, her pride and joy, were damaged. She’d just gotten them fixed after a particularly rough game last week.
Just then, she heard a familiar, reassuring voice. “Honey, are you okay? What happened?”
Tennis Ball, her husband, rushed towards her, his yellow surface radiating warmth and concern. He carefully rolled beside her, inspecting the damage.
“Snowball,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with pain and anger. “She attacked me.”
Tennis Ball’s surface hardened, his yellow fading to a pale grey. “I know, sweetheart. I saw the whole thing. You were amazing, though! That was some fight you put up.”
He gently nudged her, making sure she was comfortable. “Let’s get you cleaned up. That cut looks a bit nasty.”
Tennis Ball rolled around the park, collecting soft leaves and blades of grass. He used them to carefully clean the cut, gently pressing them against the wound, murmuring soothing words of comfort. He then helped her adjust her glasses, using his flat surface to carefully straighten the bent arm.
As Tennis Ball worked, Golf Ball couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude for his unwavering love and support. She knew she could always count on him, no matter what. He was her rock, her anchor, always there to pick her up when she fell.
“You’re the best, Tennis,” she mumbled, her voice filled with emotion.
Tennis Ball smiled, his yellow surface regaining its usual vibrant glow. “Anything for you, my love.”
He knew Golf Ball was a fighter. This wasn’t the first brawl, and it wouldn’t be the last. He would always be there for her, to support her, to love her, even when she got a little bruised and battered. After all, they were a team, a little family of balls, rolling through life, side by side, no matter what.
