The Fiery Red Addiction
This is a satirical website. Don't take it Seriously. It's a joke.
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By : I Ron Butterfly
The door swings open and bit of light glares in, and he's relaxed, cool, and calm. On a cool Chicago afternoon he sits at the edge of the table, hands pressed firmly together, he's ready to talk about last night. This man suffered for years, battling something that we often overlook, because it appears so harmless.
An extra jolt, and an extra ring, these are what its' user seeks on an instantaneous basis. It’s available on every corner, and no matter where you are in the great city, you are never further than a five minute jaunt from. Priced no more than a few dollars, it’s always within reach. All these elements combined make Red Bull a deadly combination of sugar and carbonation for addiction.
For him, his addiction all started when he was in his younger years. A record setting career as an accomplished volleyball player at Saint Viator High School in Arlington Heights, John Deger seemed primed for success. Streaming golden cuts of ribbon, dangling shiny metal medallions, and towering bronze trophies line his room wall to wall. “It helps to reflect on what was lost, as I work to regain my glory,” he proclaims.
At the time he needed the extra kick to power him through grueling volley ball tournaments. The “Hunger Games of sports,” as he metaphorically connects his decorated past to the silver screen. “We were out there for hours, playing back to back…we all knew what the prize was.” The prize being a full ride scholarship to Carrollton College for his athletic prowess on the volleyball court. He wasn’t going to let up or miss up on any opportunity to win and showcase his talents.
But even after the games ended, he kept going for that kick. “First you get the sugar, then you get the power,” he reflects. Sometimes going through nine to ten cans a day, his car was littered with shiny blue and silver pieces of aluminum. It no longer remained a kick to get through the day, it became a piece of his identity. Soon drinking a can of Red Bull became second nature to him, no different than breathing air.
Soon he bathed in a golden pool of syrup and water. Literally immersing himself in fresh cans of opened Red Bull, the scent lingering in his daily attire. He’s acquired so much Red Bull through the years that he probably attributed to increasing the bottom lines of the financial ledgers of Costco. The filled tubs attribute do the drain on his wallet, his time, and his relationships.
It wasn’t until he was found at the Lakeview Bathhouse, delirious off a sugar high and unaware of how or why he was there, that he knew he needed change. Helped by a group of Jehovah’s witnesses, he was able to get back on his feet. He cleaned up, he shaved, he showered, and most importantly vowed never to drink the “Red Stuff…but technically Blue and Silver because that’s the colors of the can,” ever again.
His diet changed to that of a concoction of Beet and Radish juice. The thick red nectar served as a bitter reminder of never turning back. In his free time, he spends whatever moments he has not working writing poetry at the Belmont Harbor. Mostly he writes poetry slam scriptures. The rapid fire serving as a constant reminder to his athletic past. “The ribbons are hung and my balls deflated, I can’t be the champion of volley that I once was, but maybe I can help others from falling in the crosshairs to the fiery Red Bull,” are the words he closes with. He’s accepted his past, to pave way for his future.
This is a satirical website. Don't take it Seriously. It's a joke.