[ WP ] A story where the protagonist is a pretty decent individual by most accounts , but is DESPISED by the narrator .

Dale `` I think I'm so great'' Wenthouser lined up the shot carefully, taking several practice swings just above the small, white golf ball. His eyes were fixed on the far distance, because apparently a county trophy for something that is n't even a real sport is oh-so-fucking-important. 
 
 His ( weirdly gangly ) arms swept down and round, and there was a sharp click as the the club connected with the ball perfectly, sending it rocketing off towards the far green. Because of course it connected perfectly, because Dale is everyone's most precious favourite who's really sensitive and talented. 
 
 Dale shot a quick glance to his left, grinning at his long-time girlfriend Cindy before beginning the walk to the green. They'd been going steady for four years now. Cindy was a pleasant, attractive girl, save for her awful disability: blindness. Because you'd have to be blind to think that a lanky fuckwit like Dale was worth dating. 
 
 Dale walked slowly across the course, partly because of his clumsy spade-like feet, but also because he was helping his grandmother, a frail woman who apparently had terrible genes, to walk on the uneven ground. His face wore a smug smile, as if to say `` look how selfless I am, helping an old lady.'' Except no one even cared because how fucking transparent can you get? He was probably just hoping for an inheritance. 
 
 The pristine white ball, tainted only by association with America's biggest douchebag, rested only a metre or so from the green. Dale was one hit away from winning a meaningless stupid trophy that no one else would even ever want. 
 
 Before taking the shot, Dale shared a quiet moment with his longtime friend and mentor, the crippled ex-golf pro Alvin Waters. They had met when Dale had offered to help the wheelchair-bound man carry his groceries, and a friendship had blossomed between them. Perhaps they had become such good friends because, unable to walk, Alvin was the only person not able to escape the stultifying boredom of Dale's conversation. 
 
 Over the years, Alvin had trained and mentored Dale, developing his super important skill of hitting a midget football with a weird stick. Dale had needed no help with his other major skill, being a dillweed. Dale could do that one on his own. He could also have taught lessons in `` looking like a retarded goat''. He was good at that too. 
 
 As Dale lined up the shot carefully, his mother stood to one sides, her clasped hands betraying her tension. Gloria Wenthouser was an anomaly, a woman who was far too attractive to share genes with a gag-worthy munter like Dale. 
 
 A breathless hush fell over the small, but far too large for something so dull, crowd. Everyone waited with bated breath, like they'd been taken in by the prettyboy's girning, like the sheep they were. A small, almost inaudible `` tap'', and the ball slid across the green and into the hole. 
 
 Dale did n't even have the decency to celebrate his victory. Like a poorly-painted robot from Taiwan, he displayed no emotion. He did n't whoop or cheer, he just smiled a little and turned to shake hands with his opponent - the indisputably more talented Richard Carter. The two hugged, though how anyone could bear to touch greasy Dale Twathouser escapes me. 
 
 It was over. Dale was the county champion, though that does n't really mean much for a sport that like, three people have played, ever. He was handed a heavy gold cup by the mayor, the same mayor who, three weeks earlier, had pinned upon Dale the `` medal of courage'', also known as `` I saved a kitten from a house fire I'm such a hero everyone look at me and be really really impressed'' award for being a dickhead. Anyone could have saved those kittens, Dale was n't special. In the right place at the right time, really, though the actual right place for Dale was probably under a bus. 
 
 Dale Wenthouser was the county champion. It was lame and stupid and nobody cared. 
 
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 I now have one of those [ fancy writing subreddits ] ( https: //reddit.com/r/peritract ) that everyone keeps talking about. Subscribe to keep updated on things I write and validate my ego.
