Baseball Card: A Bloody Murder {Jigsaw}

Sports wind about superstitions and 'paranoia-consciousness' concerning collector-trophies and fanfare-angst and Earthling jazz.

A sports superstitions yarn for the incoming new year '25. Thanks for reading, 

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Amlan Satan was feeling cool about his jaunt to a New Orleans Mardi Gras event that would couple nicely with some beauty-magic anticipation for college football Spring-training combined with local baseball fare premonitions for Spring-training too. Well, Amlan was cheering the Mardi Gras in some iconic costume/gear reflective of the Earthling season (Facebook-like).

He sought to move to New Orleans after making about $15M on Wall-St. during the 2009 mini-crash (Ford) and packed up his real estate stuff in Homeland-Jersey suburbia and considered his most prized possession a Western culture trophy, a Randy Johnson Expos baseball rookie card, featuring an athlete-image of World Series victory premonitions for American Homeland fortune (for the Ego).

Before hopping to Mardi Gras, Amlan Satan decided to make one last trip to his fave suburbia area workout gym center, where he flexed his brain and human body to think about how his move to New Orleans would unalterably change his life (forever!). Mr. Satan decided during this workout session that he'd make some extra credit languages-tale about why his Randy Johnson baseball 'trophy' was some fitness superstitions imagery for Earthling sport/consciousness (Facebook-like).

This is where our tale goes berserk. You see, before he left for Mardi Gras and after he made his nifty baseball card tale online for sports fanfare/writing, his special 'trophy' post was read by a fanatic fan of the Yankees who despised how Randy Johnson shocked NY in the first World Series of the new millennium, post-9/11 (damn). Amlan's sports consciousness spirit was about to get serious dark-side challenge (Selfie-like).

TREVOR: I read your darn baseball thing online, idealist.

MR. SATAN: You liked the trophy-card featured!

TREVOR: I'm in New Orleans for the season, costumed in a film-copycat costume.

MR. SATAN: Mardi Gras story?

TREVOR: I'm costumed as a horror-film character/copycat, idealist.

MR. SATAN: Why'd you keep labeling me 'idealist' here, friend?

TREVOR: I ain't no friend...I'm a Yankee...and you're my death.

MR. SATAN: Damn.

Well, no one heard from or saw Mr. Amlan Satan ever again, after that Mardi Gras season in New Orleans (wow). It seemed the copycat horror-film character New York fanatic (fan?) made bloody murder mark of Amlan and perhaps got to him (somehow!) in-fury of that darn Randy Johnson post he made about New York pre-Easter season (wow). What did Trevor want? Was he the culprit behind Satan's disappearance from Earth...or was Amlan Satan (somehow) marked by the Headless Horseman himself who designated the sports-writer as something of an 'Earth-prince' of jitters? What do you think happened to him?

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)