"We thought he was going to come out and kick our asses."
I followed behind Hunter as we walked out of the stadium. There had been a baseball game earlier, and the two of us were some of the last to leave. It was purposeful as we wanted to let the traffic die down before we tried to make our exit. We had spent the time swapping stories, and Hunter was right in the middle of telling me how he and some of his childhood friends accidentally broke a bat in half while practicing pitches. The flying half of the bat soared right across the street and through the window of the brand new house that had been built by some rich businessman who had just moved into town.
"He was angry, of course, but he was also impressed that we were able to pitch and hit at such a level that breaking the bat was possible," Hunter continued, "The guy was a total baseball nut. He played a short inning with us before saying that he did expect us to pay him back slowly over the summer for his window whenever we had some money come our way. It was the most infuriating thing having to give up my allowance when I had been one of the ones on the sides only watching, but we ended up building a good relationship with our new neighbor. After the window was paid back for, he took us to almost all of the home games for that season. We got into the VIP booths and everything. Even now, I remember that being one of the funnest parts of my life."
"From what you've told me about this and those other two stories of stuff getting majorly broken when you were around, I'm beginning to think you either have very bad luck or that you're cursed." I joked.
"Eh, well, I can't deny either," Hunter chuckled, "I wish I could, but now that you mention it practically all of the stories I like to tell to involved something breaking in some way. I either do just have that bad of luck, or seeing things get smashed to pieces are the main things this brain of mine thinks important enough to remember."