Chris Carter stole a base.

The earth shook and clouds broke apart, all morphing into silhouettes of the founding fathers.

He was a train. Not a bullet train, but one carrying coal and vagrants -- meandering through forests and over rivers on its way to the coast. The coast was second base. It was warm there.

The catcher goes to throw, but is stopped, the finger of God holding him back. The Divine is insisting this happen. The umpire plays it cool, but he actually just crapped his pants.

Chris Carter stole a base.

Those who said it could not be done -- those who doubted the swiftness of a beefy-armed dragon -- forgot that the term inertia was invented for Chris Carter. He embodies it, because he is it. When he stops, all our heads fling forward.

He smirks like Tommy Glover did in Social Studies when he hit the teacher with a spitball and didn't get busted. Tommy is in prison now, but that had more to do with his parents splitting up. That's what my aunt says. I've tried telling my aunt about Chris Carter.

In a past life, Chris Carter suplexed trailer homes for a living. In a future life, he will hit .300. In this life,

Chris Carter stole a base.

The magnitude of this causes a pregnant woman from Corpus Christi to go into labor. She will name the baby Carter. Her sister already has a son named Chris.

Chris Carter stole a base.

Your petitions for retribution due to emotional damages will be denied. Your petition to have this scored as defensive indifference will be immediately forwarded, along with your person, to Guantanamo Bay.

Chris Carter stole a base.