The Halftime Show

"Hey mom," young Will inquired of his model-worthy mother, "I see that amazon Hope Solo had the nerve to show up here even after you made it clear at your meeting that she was all washed up."

"Everyone is entitled to a victory lap at the end of his or her career Will, even if one tops it off by bringing shame and disrepute to the very game that handed her life on a silver platter. I mean really, getting into a fist fight with her sister and nephew, getting arrested, thinking she should be the one to champion equal rights for women and then behaving like a baby after the team flamed out of the Olympics. The woman clearly has no shame," Danielle -- quite shameless herself -- arrogantly proclaimed.

Laughing heartily as his mother verbally dressed down the character of the bigger, younger, woman, the teenage Oedipean added his own two cents to the assault, "that's what these women get for trying to be men -- girls' professional soccer -- who is watching that nonsense anyway. And what kind of adult nephew gets beaten up by his aunt -- what a wuss."

"I'm nothing if not a champion of women," his mother confidently countered, "but in this case I have to agree. It's too bad really, that other girl with her is so pretty."

* * *

Hope Solo was incensed.

"I should just kick her ass right now," the seething star steamed to her friend, "and that snotty kid's too."

"Calm down Hope," shot back the lovely Ms. Morgan, "I'm just as pissed as you -- 'the other girl is so pretty' -- but you know as well as I do that one more misstep and you'll never play on the national team again. Let's just smile and wave at halftime -- snap some pictures with these kids -- and get out of here."

As Hope took in Alex's suggestion, perhaps more thoughtfully than usual because her teammate was not in her ordinary uniform or gym togs but rather, like Hope, in a light sun dress and heels, the keyed-up keeper began to calm down. It's just not worth it she wisely thought to herself -- fate has a way of giving the Danielle Parnell's of the world just what they deserve.

* * *

No sooner had that thought crossed the great goalie's mind than did fate indeed lend a hand. As the run of play again made its way toward where Danielle, Will and the other family members of Maria's team were watching, a very powerfully kicked ball crashed quite unceremoniously into the sixty or so cups of pre-poured cherry Gatorade that sat on the aforementioned immovable picnic table. The resultant impact showered the mother and son Parnell with a veritable torrent of the sticky, red drink as -- continuing its only slightly interrupted flight -- the miskicked ball then managed to knock Mrs. Parnell's aviator shades from her now equally startled and angered face.

"Oh my God," the stymied stunner screamed, brushing the ruby juice from her soaking Burberry frock as well as from the Hermes silk leopard skin scarf tied around her supple neck, "my poncho -- it's ruined."

Pulling the cashmere casualty over her head -- and in so doing revealing her tight, white, cotton-ribbed Polo tank top that covered but most certainly profiled her taught midsection and laid bare her tan, fit arms -- and notwithstanding her annoyance at the common haus fraus now having a laugh at the expense of her and her son -- Danielle Parnell immediately fixed her growing rage on the fat, snot nosed slacker whose lack of athletic talent had caused her this sudden embarrassment -- Sarah Miras. It came as no surprise to Danielle that the girl's overstuffed mother, still sitting right behind her, seemed to be laughing loudest of all -- the pig.

Determined despite the minor setback to bring some order to this sideline chaos Danielle Marie Parnell decided to make an example of the little brat and in so doing show her hillbilly of a mother what it means to impose some discipline on a child.

Striding purposefully in her towering heels as every man present remained transfixed by her mouthwateringly long and fit legs, Mrs. Parnell began to scold the 18-year-old Cretan from a distance. What happened next would be the talk of the youth soccer league for years to come...

"Why you little brat...," raged the vindictive vixen as the now terrified Sharon Miras stopped dead in her tracks and the entire stadium looked on, "you wouldn't even be on that field if your loser of a father wasn't the coach -- do you hear me -- you'd be sitting there next to your overstuffed mother..."

But before the next breath left her lips, the length of dental floss reaching between the shiny gold zipper pull on the back of Danielle's tiny black leather shorts on the one hand and the sturdy table she had just marched past on the other, could extend no further and -- to the sweet sound of a loud ziiiiipppppp followed by an even more resounding riiiippppp -- Mrs. Danielle Marie Parnell's very fashionable, very sexy, very short leather pants were torn from her incredibly trim, incredibly well toned waist before being dragged over her perfectly muscled thighs and exquisitely sculpted calves and finally coming to rest as a shredded, useless, mess at her towering high heel encased feet.

After a moment of stunned silence, and as the women in the crowd burst into hysterics and the men collectively groaned while their blood ran rapidly to their nether regions, the once imperious alpha-lawyer stood temporarily terrified in naught but her sky-high heels, a very naughty and quite translucent leopard print silk micro-thong -- that left no doubt as to the firmness of her spectacular bottom -- a body hugging white ribbed tank top and her silk leopard print Hermes scarf.

"What happened to my pants," screamed the disgraced diva," oh my God... I've... I've... I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

Little did Mrs. Parnell know, the real embarrassment had not yet even begun.

As her hands instinctively flew between covering the perfection that was her thong-covered ass and the translucent leopard spotted wisp of silk that was all that separated leering eyes from her completely shaved sex, Danielle's usually facile mind tried desperately to process what had just occurred. Where are my stunning sunglasses? How could my shorts have torn off? And why are these people -- these nobodies -- pointing and laughing at me -- at me! Oh my God, is Will staring at me... at my panties... and what's that lump in his shorts...

Despite having no answers to her own queries, Danielle's instincts told her definitively it was time to flee. But no sooner did she begin her high heeled run to safety than was the soon to be zeta-mom tripped up by the tattered shorts at her feet. As the crowd continued to howl at her humiliation, the once regal uber-milf toppled downward, only adding to the hilarity. To make matters worse -- at least for Mrs. Parnell -- in an attempt to break her fall she grabbed onto the first thing that she saw, which unfortunately for her now catatonic voyeur of a son -- but karmically spectacular for the likes of Hope Solo and Rachel Miras -- was the waistband of Will's tight black gym shorts.

In a scene that would have done Vaudeville proud, and not even a minute after she stood before the crowd as a picture of perfection -- imperiously looking down her nose at the peasants in her midst -- the town's self-appointed Queen Bee found herself on all fours staring slack jawed at the jockstrap covered raging hard-on of the son she had unwittingly teased to distraction.

"W-W-W... Will," stammered the undone beauty unable to avert her eyes from the forbidden fruit before her, "stop looking at my b-b-b... bottom."

"Mommy," squeaked the usually arrogant jock, trying to shield his incestuous "excitement" from the smaller boys in the crowd who he picked on at school and the girls he had snubbed as "unworthy losers," all of whom were laughing uproariously, "mommy... you tore my pants off..."

Howling so much it hurt at what had become of the sexy, sophisticated fashionista who for so long treated her and the other soccer moms with disdain, as well as at the fate of her usually conceited but now pant-less son, Rachel Miras -- the very saboteur who began Danielle's epic downfall with a paperclip -- reached down to lend her a genuine hand. In an attempt to evade the grasp of the very woman who now intended to help her, however, Danielle permitted Mrs. Miras to inadvertently grab hold of the collar on the sexy solicitor's tank top. Unfortunately for the increasingly humiliated beauty, her unsuccessful evasive maneuver also caused Rachel Miras to lose her balance and, as the latter fell back into her waiting chair, she tore the fancy shirt from Mrs. Parnell's perfect body leaving her, still on her hands and knees, wearing only high heels and a matching thong and scarf.

Mortified by the sudden loss of her top and almost any remaining modicum of modesty -- and with her formerly imperious smirk replaced by a daffy stare -- Danielle Parnell helplessly watched as a small army of moms and daughters doubled over laughing at her. The officious and imperious know-it-all - Danielle Marie Parnell -- who had for so long looked down at them, was now displaying in a most undignified way the tight little ass with which she had ceaselessly teased their husbands and sons.

And while those husbands and sons too reveled in the sight of the nearly naked narcissist who had tirelessly mocked them with her beauty and arrogance, Danielle's own son began finally running for cover. Unfortunately for the jock wearing jerk, however, his inability to redirect his stare from his sexy mother's nearly nude form caused him to crash headlong into Alex Morgan and in so doing to begin to fall face first onto the field.

Attempting to break that fall, the ungainly teen grabbed onto the back of Ms. Morgan's flimsy yellow sundress which, to the now familiar sound of rendering fabric, was torn completely from the fabulous footballer's incredible body leaving her in a very lacy, very small white silk thong and a matching push-up bra.

As many of the men in the crowd began as surreptitiously as possible to touch themselves at the sight of the two spectacular women now revealed before them -- and as the humiliated Alex Morgan attempted to shield herself with what remained of her dress -- Will Parnell, a "big man on campus" and rowing star at the exclusive Harvard University, felt an incredibly powerful hand grab him by the wrist and begin to lift him to his feet. Still shocked by the loss of his shorts, and standing dumbfounded in only sneakers, socks, his jockstrap and a tee-shirt, the terrified teen found himself looking up into the steely blue eyes of one Hope Solo.

Meanwhile, as the assembled mothers taunted her with jeers of "meoooww" and "not so snooty now, are you?" Danielle Parnell struggled desperately to get back to her feet while simultaneously attempting to cover her spectacularly pert tits -- the nipples of which were now rock hard from a mix of autumn cold and abject degradation -- and her perfect leopard print thong-covered ass, the site of which had caused several men to darken the fronts of their trousers.

Despite its best attempts the brilliant lawyer's mind still couldn't comprehend what was happening. How did she go from looking down upon these unworthy men and dominating their equally pathetic wives to a pinup fantasy for the former and a laughing stock of the latter? How could it be that just minutes ago she was adorned in the height of sophisticated fashion and now she was standing before them in only her highest heels, naughtiest panties and and Hermes scarf? And Will -- she had torn the shorts right off her athletic son and come face-to-face with his manhood. And now that bully Hope Solo had Danielle's only son in her grasp. What would become of the two of them?

But before the comely counselor could process her family's fate she was again soaked as the mirthful mothers she had so long looked down upon together poured the ice filled contents of a giant orange Gatorade container over her once perfectly coiffed hair. As Mrs. Parnell's newly messy mane stuck to her head, her normally exquisite make-up ran down her still stunned face and her pert nipples got even harder due to the sticky but ice-cold drink, a chubby hand grabbed her bejeweled wrist and wrested the petrified prima donna from standing stupefied in her stilettos to lying over the unexercised knee of the very mom who had begun her undoing with a paper clip - Mrs. Rachel Miras.

In a similarly salacious scene, Hope Solo had torn the "Harvard Rowing" tee shirt from Will Parnell's now nearly naked body and - after marching him over to a chair mere inches from where Mrs. Miras held his mom -- begun to assert her version of equal rights.

The beginning of the end of Will and Danielle Parnell was nigh...

"What was it I heard you call the last bratty teen who tried to test me," Hope bellowed at the dominated dork as she pulled him easily over her knee and delivered a hard spank to his jock-covered -- aka bare -- bottom, "a wuss I think you said -- well who is the wuss now junior??"

Will Parnell was dumbstruck. How did he end up here -- overpowered by a girl -- a girl who was giving him a spanking. And why was he so enjoying both that spanking and the sight of his mother -- barely dressed -- about to get the same treatment from Mrs. Miras. He knew they both deserved it.

"I'm the wuss now Ms. Solo," he squeaked.

"I can't hear you little boy," Hope bellowed as she rained spanks down on the terrified teen's reddening posterior.

"I'm the wuss ma'am," Will Parnell screamed as the crowd went wild, "I'm a bad boy and my mommy... who still spanks me sometimes too... is a very naughty girl."

Shocked back into reality as she witnessed the downfall of her son, Danielle's arrogance temporarily returned.

"Get your hands off me you fat cow," she chided Rachel Miras, forgetting for a moment who exactly had the upper hand.

Inspired by Hope Solo's treatment of Will, Mrs. Miras quickly reasserted her authority as she twisted Danielle's arm behind the undone mother's exquisitely sculpted and bare back.

"Name calling are we missy," she laughed, "I think this little trollop needs a spanking."

As the other moms cheered their assent, Rachel Miras began to punish her former tormentor's perfectly formed bottom.

"No... stop it this instant... what do you think you're doing," Danielle pleaded.

"Giving you the spanking you deserve you little tease," came the reply, "for prancing around here in your high heels and tight shorts and wiggling that ass in front of our husbands and sons so your kid gets more playing time."

"But...," Danielle began in protest.

"But nothing you stuck-up little hussy," Rachel cut her off, more confident than she had ever been.

And then, spying the soccer ball that had stopped not far from where she held her prey, Rachel Miras decided upon Danielle's final indignity. Pulling the mortified mother again to her feet and as Hope Solo tore the jockstrap from Will Parnell's beaten bottom and rolled the naked teen onto the ground, Mrs. Miras smiled.

"Pick it up Dani," she demanded.

"Wh-wh-wh-what...," stammered Mrs. Parnell who was trying to use her free hand to cover her fabulous tits while staring intently at her son's now exposed manhood.

"Pick up that ball, I said," commanded Mrs. Miras as Danielle, heeding the charge, began to bend at the knees.

"Not like that," Rachel ordered.

"Yeah," Katherine Wray joined in, "bend over like you usually do Parnell... you know... so the boys and men can check out that ass of yours that you seem to love so much!!"

As the assembled women and girls continued their unrestrained celebration of at Danielle's undoing, Emily Duncan added to their fun.

"That is what you want isn't Dani... I mean isn't that why... what was it you said... you stepped up your wardrobe for the state championship... so that everyone could see you."

Coming apart mentally due to her humiliation, and fully comprehending the complete depravity and inappropriateness of what she was about to say and do, Danielle Marie Parnell succumbed to her subconscious emotional need to show off. Her very naughty inner sexpot overwhelmed her intellectual will to resist Rachel's bait.

"You know that's why I dressed this way today..," she shouted out delusionally while beginning to bend obscenely at the waist wearing only her high heels, thong and scarf.., "it's why I always dress this way... look at me boys... because I want you to see me... and I want to be seen... you know you want me... look at mommy Will..."

But as Danielle got to the apex of her incredibly untoward display, Rachel Miras gave one final slap to the preening prima donna's now intentionally and overtly sexualized ass that brought the disgraced diva back to reality and the crowd to its feet.

The force of Rachel Miras' slap to Danielle's thong covered bottom caused Mrs. Parnell immediately to stand upright at which point the full weight of her predicament hit the former uber-MILF like a bolt of lightning. Worse yet, as she froze catatonically before the cacophonously cackling crowd -- her usually beautiful hair a matted mess and makeup a clownish mask -- her equally mortified son, in an attempt to climb from the ground onto which Hope Solo had rolled him, reached for his mother's helping hand but managed only to grab the waistband of her sexy thong. Falling back to the ground in light of his miscalculation -- along with Danielle's wisp of a thong -- Will Parnell left his mother, now wearing only heels and a scarf, as naked as himself.

"Will," the mortified mother squeaked much as her son did earlier. "you tore off mommy's panties..."

Kicking off her heels -- and in so doing giving up the very last vestige of her former power -- Mrs. Danielle Marie Parnell grabbed her son's hand and, as the young man without being touched showered his mother with his "excitement," ran dragging him as fast as her short little body could carry her into the very tunnel from which she had emerged so regally only a short time before.

Having missed the downfall of her mother and brother due to the need for a bathroom break, Maria Parnell could have sworn she heard the former's voice echoing through the tunnel into which she stepped.

"Will," Maria thought she heard, "where are mommy's keys."

Back on the field, catching her breath from laughing at the hilarity she had just witnessed, Rachel Miras shook hands with the equally satisfied Hope Solo and asked the stunning stopper if she wouldn't mind signing what was left of Danielle's shredded thong.