When I was in fifth grade, I played on the little league baseball team. I also used to mow lawns to earn money. Then one day, I paid this older guy, Duff, a bunch of my lawn mowing money to buy me two forties and a case of cheap beer. I drank it all in the woods and then headed to my baseball game. Man, did I feel great! But then once the game started I didn't feel so good; in fact, I had never felt sicker in my entire life. I don't remember much, but apparently I had alcohol poisoning and they had to call an ambulance and rush me to the hospital. I kind of got cut from the team and then the same thing kind of happened with my lawn mowing job. My parents were none too happy. They wanted the name of the guy who bought me the beer, but I lied and said he was in a gang and would kill all of us if I ratted on him.
Duff did a bad thing for buying a fifth-grader enough alcohol to kill him, but we all have to make a living somehow.
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