My Balls are missing

Once in a while the loathe software professional finds his peace, at the office basket ball court. A few shots at the basket and a few tedious jokes to keep the fellow loathe entertained; his day is made a little better. Shooting baskets and getting beaten up by fellow loathes who think winning is weighed against punches and broken noses.

Ah how I love playing at my office basket ball court.

Fridays you find a whole bunch of loathes around the court waiting to be entertained. Though they can hardly spell “Basket Ball” and once in a while shout “GOAL….” when the ball goes through the ring; these guys are at the court only to impress the caffeine addicted hideous fellow feminine loathes hanging around the court. Then there were a few who loved the game for what it is, they always found their way through to play some quality basketball; shoot some good baskets and polish their dribbling skills;

Ah how I love playing at my office basket ball court.
[You can skip the thought to decide if I played for the love of the game or the caffeine addicted hideous fellow feminine loathes; cos I am not sure myself].

Days went by, more loathes got disfigured on the court, caffeine addicted hideous fellow feminine loathes increased and more “GOALS” were happening. Then suddenly, just suddenly, out of the blue one day there was an onslaught on the basket ball court. A bunch of men with huge bellies, repulsive tits, thighs as big as me, flab all over to keep them hibernated for 100 years and a CRICKET BAT, came to claim their rights on the Basket Ball court. They wanted to play the Gentleman’s game to keep them fit and fine.
They wanted us to stop this idiotic game of basketball on a basket ball court so that they could play the Gentleman’s game.
When tried to explain that it was a basket ball court and basket ball is meant to be played, they came back and beat us all up with retribution, Gentlemen eh.
Their actions were quite understandable, considering that project MANAGERS and delivery MANAGERS and functional MANAGERS and ONLY MANAGERS were there to play cricket.

Ah how I love playing at my office basket ball court

Days passed by and the loathly cricket playing managers continue with their stint to keep themselves in shape and impress the caffeine addicted hideous fellow feminine loathes.

Till yesterday we the basketball loving broods, stuck to our fear of managers big bellies etc etc and trounce our basic urge for the game and love of court; but we could not take it any more and decided to stand up to the “GENTLEMEN”. Who by then had grown in huge numbers and bellies.
We move to get our weapons; basket balls and tadaan…….
The balls are missing………
The balls are missing…….????
WHAT…!!
The balls are missing…..!!!!
Oh.. my … god….. the balls are gone.

The "Gentle" Men are having a hearty laugh.
Managers always had the last laugh.

Oh how I LOVED playing at my office basket ball court.

[lights dim, only a spot light on me]
[Kneeling down, hands in the air, screaming, camera zooming upwards, away from my face]
“Vishnuuuuuu…......... gimme back my BALLS”

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[Basic mallu urge to exaggerate has helped me a lot.
But yes, the narration was inspired by an incident at the basket ball court at work and “Only big-fat-ugly men play cricket”]