Dunk Tank Story Novels & Stories

As for the company, leaderless, with the billion-dollar deal dead, its core technology leaked, and its major clients walking away one after another, its cash flow collapsed fast. It held on less than six months before declaring bankruptcy and liquidating. That high-end production line they'd spent a fortune bringing in was, in the end, dismantled and auctioned off cheap to cover debts. As for Nora, word of her being a deliberate homewrecker juggling multiple men spread through the industry like wildfire. A few videos of dubious authenticity even leaked out. The gossip even reached her own parents and relatives back in her hometown, leaving her with nowhere to go. After that day, she came loo

“My Mom is a fashion influencer—” “So, you’re the boy?” Kendrick gasps. “It was you… because of you…” I cut Bunny before he can probe further. I prefer him wandering in misconception. The truth can be lethal at the wrong time. I can’t take that risk. Yosef moves to the corner, yanks down the black tarp. Underneath: a massive tank, easily twelve feet across. Water sloshed inside, dark, murky, reeking of iron. Something moves beneath the surface.

He smiled, honestly looking happy. “You too, Tank.” THE DUCHESS Back when I thought, naively, of course, that I’d actually take over one day, I’d always planned that Tank would be my third. He was a good guy that took care of Karma and I when we were in our teens. Always bailing us out if (and when) we got into trouble. It was also Tank that gave us our first lessons on the shooting range and taught us the basics of bike maintenance. In many ways, he became like an adoptive father to us. In our world, parents should teach their kids those skills themselves. When my dad refused, Tank stepped up. Without Tank, I wouldn’t be who and where I am.

He was playing the part of the cold, demanding Vice President perfectly, but I knew the heat that lived under that leather vest. "Keep your eyes on the track, not the VP," a voice rasped. I turned to see Tank, the club's massive enforcer, leaning against a stack of tires. He was chewing on a toothpick, his eyes narrowed as he watched me work. He was one of the few who hadn't openly sneered at me since I arrived, but I knew better than to mistake silence for friendship. "I'm focused on my machine, Tank," I replied, sliding a wrench into my back pocket.

He smells like cheap soap and danger, and he doesn’t talk much. “Tank, you eat like a horse,” Leyla chuckles from the bed, now eyeing the three dudes who hungrily scavenge through the containers of grilled chicken. The three settle down in the chairs again, each one grinding down a piece like vultures picking a bone. They look like extras from a crime movie who got promoted to main characters through sheer intimidation. They rarely smile. They do occasionally grunt. Once, Tank threatened a vending machine that ate my coins. It gave them back.

Tank says hi. **SLOANE:** WHO IS TANK **ME:** The artist. Sadie hired him for her party. He works out of the garage. Very professional. Made me sign a consent form. **SLOANE:** You are getting PERMANENT BODY MODIFICATION in a GARAGE at a COLLEGE PARTY by a man named TANK **ME:** His portfolio is genuinely insane. He did cherries on a girl earlier. Photorealistic cherries. **SLOANE:** I do not care about the cherries. What are you getting, Chase.

I've never been deer hunting myself, but it's obvious I don't want to be in it. "Welcome to your new home." Tank laughs as if he's said the funniest joke and kicks open a wooden door before walking into the place with me. At the same time, he causes my arm to scratch more on the wooden plywood wall of the hellish structure. A rank odor, one of dying leaves and small animal poop, permeates this tiny building. Only a single bench seat is on one end, which Tank and his associate Tight Lips — another properly given nickname — sit on so I'm left to scramble for a spot on the dirty floor.

I still can’t tell if he is happy or not. Suddenly I’m being picked up and twirled around. Tank shouts “ I’m going to be a dad. Can you believe it?” Tank finally put me down when I told him I was getting dizzy. But that doesn’t stop him from yelling out. I can’t help but laugh at his reaction. I’m guessing he is happy. Tank

Tank said. Tank is right. I had heard most of the stories about the ol’e ladies. And the way he talked about tattooing them like they were the ones doing him a favor. He felt privileged to be able to do the work. “ All the designs are great and personalized. Just like yours. But the gauntlet I did for Ailee. That is one I have up on my wall. It turned out so much better than I could have hoped. I don’t use metallic ink often but it made the difference.” Tank said. “ Tank, that's sweet how you care for each of the girls.” I said. “ They are my sisters and wife. Family. It is what we do. You know how Mc’s are. From what Casper has said you have been in one since before you were in kindergarten

A guy approached Tank and they whispered for a few minutes. “All right fuckstain, but just know this, if you die, I ain’t gonna lose sleep, kid or not,” he said, taking off his shirt. “Let’s do it then,” I said. I had nothing to lose, but I knew I wasn’t dying today. The bell rang and we started dancing around each other, neither one wanting to throw the first punch. After about a minute, and people getting antsy, Tank came at me with a left hook. I dodged it, bringing an upper-cut right to his ribs.