Jarrod had been to the courthouse on Friday and was impressed with the way the legal system worked, even though some old man had gotten in his way.
"It pays to be rich and famous in this country," thought the young star. "This must be what O.J. felt like!"
"The Phenom" was reasonably confident about his chances in the coming lawsuit. However, Rod had apparently suffered some sort of damage to his knee in the accident. It was beginning to swell again and appeared to be on its way to a nice bruise. It made Jarrod wonder if he would ever be free of the crushing pain in his knee.
Unusually, Jarrod had a Sunday off. The season was almost over, and there was a tint of autumn in the air. He loved football, but even watching his beloved Falcons get swamped again by a superior opponent could not raise his spirits. He even tried to imagine a plane crash involving Savannah Flint, but that just made him nauseous.
Jarrod turned his attention back to the Sony bigscreen television. The game had almost reached halftime.
"Well," mused Jarrod, "at least I get to sit through one of these incredibly boring halftime shows!"
While the Smoky pondered the idiotic announcers, a tingling sensation struck him. Before he knew it, he had collapsed to the floor while the room seemingly spun around him. He could sense the despair and pointlessness of his existence; he even felt remorse for the people he had stepped on in his mad drive to the top.
"What the hell was that?" Jarrod asked his empty condominium shakily.
On the television, one of the announcers was talking to Saints' coach Mike Ditka about his sports bar in Chicago. Suddenly, "The Phenom" knew what had to be done. He picked up the phone.