It started the way it usually starts. One guy says he can, or has, done something wild and very macho. Very, very macho. A second guy says he can, or has, did the same thing, only better. It's called topping. A third guy bets that neither of them can, or has, done it. Naturally, whether either of them can, or has, they have to take up the bet. This is called being stupid. It usually, but not always, occurs in the presence of booze or women or both.

"I jumped off a cliff once".

"I jumped off a cliff once too only mine was higher".

"How do you know that, you goof"?

"'Cause I know you, that's how".

"I got 50 dollars says neither one a you can, or has, ever jumped off a cliff and wouldn't do it now".

"Huh? Jump' off a cliff ain't no big deal".

"Yea, the ground always breaks your fall".

Months later, after the casts were removed and the pins have settled into place these same two guys got to talking.

"I can out run a dog, any dog, any time, any place".

"And you'd still be watching my butt 'cause I'd be faster".

"Not a junkyard dog, you couldn't. Least ways, I have 50 dollars says neither a you can".

The next night they all went to the gun store. A chain link fence, electrified, enclosed it and a warning sign- Beware of dog. They shorted out the fence with only a little damage to themselves. Then they climbed over the fence. The bettor stayed on the outside. He planned to survive although he might not be able to collect his winnings.

It was real quiet for a little while. Then, all hell broke loose. The bettor saw the two guys running towards him with not one dog but a pack of dogs right behind them. The guys were running full tilt and so were the dogs. It was close, very close. The guys almost made it.

Since the dogs weren't rabid, they weren't put to sleep. In fact, no one went near them until they went to sleep. Then it was a matter of letting sleeping dogs lay. Then they were shot up to the moon on tranquilizers. It was the same ones the shooter used. He'd been bitten once too often. They were drugged pretty heavily for a while until they calmed down. The gun store owner didn't press charges, figuring the dogs had done enough punishing. The guys had to do their drinking standing up for a long time. They also couldn't scratch their butts, which was a hard thing to stop, being guys.

By now the guys were afraid of the bettor. He was some sort of Jonah; a bad omen; a ghoul.

"The guy's bad news".

"He's possessed".

"Possessed? He's the Devil!"

The bettor couldn't get a hello from them. They wouldn't sneeze if he was around. He tried drawing them out by telling his own stories. Nothing but quiet from the guys. The bettor told them that he once jumped out of a plane carrying his chute. He put it on as he fell. That was too much for the guys. They both said they could jump out of a plane without a chute. They'd fall until handed one by another chutist. The first one to reach for was loses.

As they drift down, the bettor thinks about how, regardless of who reaches first, he, the bettor, loses. He reached up and popped his chute. The other two guys dropped like a drunk getting sucker punched with a surprised look on their faces.

The bettor thought, "Well, like they said, ' The ground'll break their fall' "