Buck Duckett CYOA 8A

For a robust older man, Wump can move. You chase him through the warehouse as he scrambles over crates and flings pants back at you to slow you down. But Wump eventually runs out of gas and Moods makes a running tackle in the parking lot.

Suddenly the entire lot is lit by headlights. Dozens of vans have started and men in official NCAA Internal Investigations jackets pour out of them and grab you and Moods. You’re blinded by the spotlight from a helicopter, but it will later be revealed in court that it is just a powerful light on top of a van and a speaker playing helicopter noises that one guy in the NCAA uses to intimidate people– he will later be investigated and dismissed after years of litigation.

“There he is, we got him,” you say. “That’s Wump.”

A tall man in a mustache and a jacket runs up to you. “That’s not who we’re looking for,” he says through gritted teeth. “Establish a perimeter. Duckett’s running. Duckett’s running!”

The NCAA agents fan out across the lot and begin their search. You can hear them yelling “we know you’re here, Duckett,” but you and Moods are handcuffed in the back of a van.

The mustachioed man who is apparently running the operation runs in the van.

“OK, you jackheads have three seconds to tell me where Duckett is before I take you in,” he says.

“We have no idea. Last time we saw him he had fallen into a crate full of jorts,” you say.

“That’s what they all say. OK, fine, if that’s how you’re going to play it, we’re taking you in.”

You’re brought to a local NCAA office and left in a room for hours while you hear nothing but the cackling of radios and see only the silhouettes of increasingly exasperated people outside the office gesturing at maps. Eventually, the mustachioed man comes in.

He introduces himself as Jick Jackett, NCAA Internal Affairs. After hours of yelling at people, he finally seems ready to listen. You explain as best you can how you got involved with Duckett and the pants sting operation. He seems skeptical.

“You are either a terrible liar or two dumbest marks in college squabbling,” he says. You learn that Duckett has not worked for the NCAA in years. He has been tormenting Wump for that entire time. Wump, you learn, became an NCAA asset after his pants operation was busted. It was small time stuff, but he was more valuable because he had a connection to Duckett, who was desperately wanted by internal affairs after he went on a spree of stink bombing the ventilation system of at least three prominent NCAA officials.

Meanwhile, the NCAA was on the verge of allowing a Names, Likenesses, and Images or NIL policy that allows for legalized pants sponsorship. The NCAA had suspended all pants-related activity months ago.

“We had no idea what he was going to do with Wump if he caught him,” Jackett says. “The man is as pure a maniac as I’ve ever encountered in this business, and I’ve tangled with the Galveston Boots Baron. Please excuse me.”

Jackett seems to soften towards you, but Wump is furious. You can tell because you have heard him yelling at Jackett and although you can’t make out what he is saying you do see an unmistakably Wumpish figure stomping around and throwing up his hands and pointing at the room you’re in.

Jackett reenters the room. “Wump doesn’t buy it. He wants to know what proof you have that you weren’t working with Duckett. He calls you the Duckett Boys, and is accusing you of ‘grotesque collusions.’”

You look at Moods. It starts to dawn on you that you have no evidence at all to back up anything you’ve told the NCAA about him. You were so afraid that Duckett would end your career that you tried to hide every interaction with him, and now it is impossible to prove that you thought he was in the NCAA. For the first time, you start to worry that you’re in big trouble.

You’re eventually released when Moods ask Jackett if the NCAA can actually detain people, but the damage is done. The NCAA decides to investigate. It takes months, but you are eventually cleared, and you and Moods can play in the Tournament. Your team, once favored to advance to the championship, has barely limped in as a low seed. Without you in the game to calm him down, “Werewolf” Eddie Tufetti is suspended after attempting to bite multiple opponents. But you and Moods are on a mission.

You make it to the title game to face your arch-rival who knocked you out of the quarters last year. This year, though, it’s different. Wump, out of petty revenge has sponsored them and outfitted them in a truly dazzling array of pants. Superstar barker Duave Mranczmott has given himself the nickname “Pantsmeat” and has spent the week leading up to the championship game mocking you and your team for slinking around in shabby, discount pants and university issued sweats. You despise him.

It is the day of the championship game. Mranczmott enters the Sqabbling Stadium wearing a pair of pants so large and resplendent that he requires a small retinue of team managers and Wump himself to hold it up so it doesn’t trip him. You, on the other hand, are wearing an old, worn pair of shorts and Mr. Pants stops his pregame procession and stares at you in mock disbelief.

“I appreciate the look,” he says to you in front of a jeering crowd of his fans. “Maybe the simple look is coming back in shorts. Ascetic. Schlubcore,” he says. The fans are howling, but you can pick out comments. “He’s right, what a schlub” one says. Another voice calls out “yeah those are nice shorts… for a JACKHEAD!” You whirl around and hustle to the locker room. You run into Moods on the way who just received a similar treatment.

“It’s rough out there,” he says to you. “Yeah, some real mean dudes out there,” you say.

You want this one bad. But it is clear that your opponents have a well of confidence coming from their wardrobe. You hang close in the first half, but fade badly as they land yack after yack in the second. You miss Tufetti and his unstoppable Howl’s Yowl move and also Marcus “Mummy” Lintongh, who has missed the entire tournament after what has been described as a “toilet paper injury.” You and Moods are operating at a sublimely high level, but it’s just not enough.

After the final bell sounds, you try to shuffle off the field before collapsing into tears in the locker room, but Mranczmott will not leave you alone, telling you he’ll “toss you a pair of championship pants.” You have to grab Moods before he hits him with a Squabbling Rod. “We can’t go out like that,” you say. “I know, dude,” Moods says.

For weeks after the game, you can’t turn on the TV without seeing Mranczmott strutting around in some parade or fashion show or commercial for local plumbing services. You can barely concentrate.

Duckett has vanished without a trace. The NCAA never tracked him down and Wump seems to have scared him off. But one evening, there’s a knock on the door. You open it but there is no one there, just a single notecard with writing in a thick block.

“We can still get him,” it says. “B. Duckett.”