Timbo and Matthew

Ah, the second generation. They had it easy, didn’t they? McCurdy Wiffle Ball was handed to them, already made and tested. All they had to do was prance out to the back yard, pick up a wiffle bat, and play the game that was already perfect.

“Excuse me, would you like to strike the ball?”

“Why thank you so much cousin- there, I have struck it”

“Goodness, how far it traveled! You must be the best player in the world!”

“Oh no, cousin, you struck the ball ever so much further than I! You are truly the best!”

“No, you!”

“No, you!”

It’s not just wiffleball- they do the same thing with every game they play. They treat each other and everyone else with this gentle respect that makes you want to just THROW UP!

That’s not the McCurdy way. If you lose at cards and then take the entire deck, set it on fire, and throw the flaming mess off the balcony and onto the street below, where the burning cards fall on a convertible top, causing it to burst into flames, and then the entire vehicle to catch fire and explode, sending singed and sharpened pieces of scrap metal through nearby windows, well, that’s how it’s done.

Not:

“Goodness, you seem to have placed a trump card on my trick.”

“Oh, I am so sorry- may I remove the card and play something less distressing?”

“Oh heavens no, I was just commenting on your excellent play. You are the best card player in the world!”

“No, you!”

“No, you!”

Soft spoken, nice, quiet, reasonable, polite, overflowing with good sportsmanship, no trash talk- who ARE these guys? Where did they come from? But they sure knock the heck out of those wiffle balls.