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Volleyball

I am not a volleyball despite what some may think. I am an honest man, I work hard and I stink. I am not some pseudo-man acting one way while hiding another, pretending to be me. I could just as well be my brother. I am not invisible, I am not bandaged and hidden. I am the one so few encounter, I am what is obvious and given. But in a world of players in this world where truth matters little I am still not a cats toy,  I will not be covered in spittle. So play your games, hoist your net, but don't be surprised or saddened at what you'll never get. Some men are real, some men are fake, I am not a man who wishes to be on your plate. Some women are fish, some men are fishers but I've never ever been one to cast a line to so-called well wishers. I am He, who plants corn and spinach and broccoli, I am He who waters those in need, I am not a porn star or a man who values deceit. I am a man, an honest one best I
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The two, like characters from a fairytale, lived down the road from the good place. They had wasted their years in vanity and consumption and had nothing to show but a shabby house. They hated their limitations, they hated each other too. When he or she would get a chance to visit the good place, they brought their bile and poured it in glasses to serve all around. The people of the good place overlooked such evil, wishing instead to be accepting of differences. This bothered the crone to no end. She found someone new to hate. She developed a tale that would make the good place bad. Her lies she would craft to make all the virtue she had been shown, dissolve in a lie of epic proportions. But she made sure to hide it from all who offered a sympathetic ear. She painted all the kindness as imposition, she tarnished good names for her own amusement. Sadly, it was the community that suffered from the lies. The good place remained good and the 2 never found their way back to it again.
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