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Bowling The Perfect Game

"What's he doing?" Manny, the bowling alley owner for 26 days, asked Barton who's watching a man wearing a hoodie play his tenth strike in the row, in a very interesting but weird way.

"Dunno Manny, but he's real damn good at it." Barton's been watching this man play ever since he got his fifth strike in a row. But that's not the reason why Barton's been watching him in the first place. It was a slow night – Tuesday. It's only the three of them there.

Barton's always here at Manny's bowling alley on Tuesday and Thursday nights from the first night it opened. He's been a regular ever since his wife always babysits their little girl on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He says this is his getaway place where he thinks of nothing but the pins and his bowling ball and how he can score at least one strike in one game. Plus he loves bowling.

"Does he always do that?" Manny asked quite confused. They both saw the man touching his toes, taking a bow, head bang his head then throws the orange colored bowling ball, all without a hair and the hoodie out of place. Manny doesn't own any colored bowling balls.

Must be his, Manny thought.

"Like a robot. Kinda creepy if you ask me." Barton exclaimed, swaying his head in disapproval, yet still somehow amazed as to how the man keeps getting strikes for the ninth row now.

"Never seen him before 'round here" Manny spoke, feeling a little bit uneasy. The air felt cold tonight, even though the A.C. wasn't turned down that low. He peeked over at his desk just to see if his shotgun was still there. Still there, Manny thought to himself.

"Me neither." Barton replied, still thinking if he knew the man or not.

Neither of the two knew the man sadly, nor can they see his face, even Barton who's been watching the man bowl since the fifth strike.

The mystery man threw his ball and gets another strike for the tenth time in a row now, fist pumping the air as the knocked out pins get replaced by a new batch, they could actually hear his deep groggy "Yes" from where they stood, 17.5 yards away from the man.

The two watched the mysterious man make his throw again for the eleventh time now. They watched him carefully.

He makes one jumping jack, a moon walk to the left, moves a little bit back, a high kick with no sweat, he swayed his hips, makes one step forward, touches his privates, and it looked kinda awkward.

He then touched his toes like they've seen before, took another bow, man what a bore, Manny thought, then saw the man head bang another time, then does a back flip and makes his throw.

Another strike! Manny was confused even more.

How could he have gotten another one? Was he using some kind of black magic? He thought. He'd never seen anyone play like that before. Both the game play of 10 strikes in a row as well as the ritual that goes with it before the man makes his throw.

Manny started to walk towards the man, eagerness written all over his face. Determined to know all this man's secrets, or was it just some kind of a hoax?

"Hey Manny, where are you going?" Barton followed Manny. The mystery man never looked friendly enough to have a chat with in the first place, Barton was worried.

"I'm gonna have a little talk with this loon." Manny spoke, strutting his way towards the unknown person with Barton hot on Manny's trail.

Manny wanted to confront the man, no fear was seen in his eyes. He felt like he's the top dog just because he owns the place.

"Hey buddy" Called out Manny as he got closer to him. The man was about to get ready with his ritual, as if Manny's call had no effect.

Well that's rude, Manny thought.

As he was about to grab the hooded man from the shoulder the speakers started to blare incoherent singing. It wasn't music, nor was it punk rock, it was purely random and rather horrifying as Barton thought.

Manny and Barton both stopped and looked up at the ceiling, wondering where the blaring sound was coming from. As the two were about to turn their attention back to the unknown person, all the lights began to flicker like how strobe lights behave in clubs, but this was more frequent and violent, then they both heard a bowling ball drop.

The sound was so close that the two concluded it came from the man that was in front of them. After the lights show, the place went dark.

A moment of silence later, the lights were back on, behaving as if nothing happened a while ago.

The man was gone! The two thought. The only way out was the door located 28.8 yards behind them. How could the man slip past by the two without them noticing?

Only the black bowling ball leaving as evidence was embedded on the newly furbished wooden bowling alley floor, like it had been thrown down there on purpose. The freaky part is that, as Manny put it, there was no trace of the orange bowling ball they previously saw that the man was using to bowl.

They never saw the man ever again.