Strike Zone

Marcus stood at home plate, baseball bat heavy in his hands like a dead weight. The iPhone in his back pocket buzzed again—probably another text from Jasmine asking why he wasn't at Tyler's party. Typical Friday night: everyone else living their best lives while he struck out for the third time this inning.

"You're gripping it too tight, bro," his best friend Dre called from the dugout. "Looks like you're choking a chicken, not swinging a bat."

"Shut up," Marcus muttered, but adjusted his grip anyway.

His chihuahua mix, Pancake, sat obediently beyond the outfield fence—Dre's little sister was supposed to be watching him, but she was too busy flirting with the pitcher from the other team. The dog started barking like crazy, which was weird. Pancake never barked unless...

Then Marcus saw it.

A massive bull—like, actual rodeo bull—had somehow escaped from the farm down the road and was now charging toward the baseball field. The metal tags in its ears glinted under the floodlights. Someone screamed.

"BULL!" someone shouted. "ACTUAL FUCKING BULL!"

Chaos erupted. Players scattered. Parents jumped the dugout fence. And Pancake? Pancake slipped his collar and sprinted straight toward the massive animal, barking his head off like he was Cerberus guarding the gates of Hell.

"PANCAKE, NO!" Marcus screamed, dropping his bat and running.

His phone flew out of his pocket and cracked against home plate. Jasmine could wait.

The bull skidded to a confused halt, staring at this six-pound dog losing its entire mind. Pancake stood his ground, shaking like a leaf but barking with everything he had. The bull snorted, lowered its head—

And then just walked away. Like, whatever.

Marcus scooped up his dog, both of them shaking. The team gathered around, someone's mom was already posting it on TikTok, and Marcus realized he'd never felt more alive in his entire life.

"Dude," Dre said, eyes wide. "Your dog's a bull-fucking legend."

Marcus laughed so hard he cried. Some Friday night this turned out to be.