Well, that’s the Crew.

You’ve met all the guys - and seen them, to greater or lesser extents, in action.

And it’s about time now that you saw us all in action together.

Now don’t get too excited guys.

When I say you’re going to see us in action together, I don’t mean it’s like in an orgy or something.

That’s not cool, man.

We don’t do that.

(OK, there was that time that we all went back to Spike’s house after school. That was the day his dad took his mom to a SlipKnot concert in the state capital ‘cos he’d thought it was some sort of Boy Scouts’ reunion. The things that went on at Spike’s house that night only happened after we’d all got very drunk and very stoned. In any case, I can’t tell you what we really got up to ‘cos we all swore that we’d never refer to it ever again…!)

No, the things we most often do together are, like, pretty ordinary stuff.

Some days we hang out after school at Mike’s Koffee Kabin (spelling was never Mike’s strong point).

That’s where we do thinks like dishing the dirt on other kids at school (is Andy Reilly’s younger brother Jack really humping the new French teacher Mrs Berkowitz?).

We talk about our favorite guys and what we’d like to do with them - and what we’d like them to do with us. (Hope you’re reading this, Keanu!)

And that’s where we also plan what we’re gonna’ get up to next vacation. That’s when Spike’s promised to take us all to the Dirty Dick gay bar - though we made him promise it would be on a night when Mr Zabaletta wasn’t doing his artistic medley of Doris Day’s not-so-greatest hits.

One afternoon earlier this year we were all at Mike’s, drinking his “koffees” and talking about the school football team - though, as you’ll guess, it wasn’t exactly their record on the field that was at the top of our agenda.

That’s when Zak, the great talker of the Crew and the one who’s always up for trying anything new, came up with one of his better ideas.

“Hey, guys”, he said. “I’m pissed off with just doing nothin’ but talk. Let’s do somethin’ for once. Why don’t we have some sorta contest?

“Instead of just thinking about it all the time, we’ll see which of us can be the first to score with one of the football team.”

Now, you won’t have actually seen our school football team. Believe me, though, a bigger lot of 100% masculine types you’d be hard put to find.

Any one of them makes Dolph Lundgren look like the queeny guy in Will and Grace.

And they were all the sorta guys who’d probably knock you right across the block if they as much as suspected that you were even just a friend of a friend of a friend of Dorothy.

So Zak’s challenge was going to be a really tough one.

But none of us was willing to admit that we weren't up for it and we all signed up.

It was agreed that for the next four weeks we’d work entirely on our own. No one was allowed to help anyone else - not that they would have wanted to, I guess. Our motto would be “May the best queen win!”

We agreed that we’d meet up again in exactly one month’s time to compare results.

We all set about planning our campaigns in different ways.

If you ignore Spike’s skateboarding, it’s Zak, of all of us in the Crew, who’s the one most associated with sports already. As I think I’ve told you before, he seems to spend quite a lot of his spare time hanging around with the guys in the school swim team.

So, after our contest was announced, Zak immediately joined the football team players for daily after-hours training workouts.

Even if he didn’t win our competition, I guessed he thought he’d enjoy the showers afterwards.

Meanwhile, Stevieboy - aka Mustang Boy - offered to be the football team’s statistician, even though the only figures he was usually interested in were eight or more inches.

Knowing that the team was always short of money for new kit and equipment, Spike joined their fundraisers.

True enough, he had lots of experience of raising things. But they weren’t usually funds.

I decided to take the vacant job of sports correspondent on the school paper.

The Editor was slightly surprised. After all, the only previous interest I’d shown was in the job of dance and musical theatre correspondent.

But he took me up on the offer all the same.

That left Eli.

Now Eli was going to have a problem with our contest. After all, he’s the only str8 member of the Crew.

We did offer to excuse him. But he said no, he’d join in. After all, as all sportsmen claim to believe, it’s the taking part rather than the winning that counts.

I don’t know whether or not the football team knew what hit them in the next few days.

A few of them looked as though they might actually have a brain cell or two. That would have made them more difficult targets.

But luckily most of the guys on the football team were just typical dumb jocks, the sort who’d believe you right out if you told them that regular assisted sphincter-stretching exercises were a vital part of their new training program.

That thought gave us all not just an instant boner but also a degree of hope.

And so it was that, just a day after our session at the Koffee Kabin, the very first Inter-Crew Cock Contest well and truly began.

Copyright: HMBoys.com / Rob Maynard 2001

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