The key to being cool thought Murphy, was to own a pair of cowboy boots. His brother had some, a black pair bought for his birthday by their parents. When Murphy went to get his own set the shoe store was out of them and weren't going to recieve any more in the near future. None of the other shoe sellers around town had them either so Murphy was stuck.


Murphy's parents were taking a trip up to the big city so Murphy saw his chance. He had saved up one hundred and fifty dollars, surely enough for a quality pair. He asked them to get a pair resembling his brothers, shiny black, perfectly fitting the foot, size 9. They were gone for three days. Murphy waited impatiently. When they arrived home he feigned his excitement, not even asking for the boots as his parents unpacked their bags. When they appeared out of his mothers bag he ripped the box open. What he saw sickened him. The boots were horribly pointed, winkle picker like. The glue used to hold them together was dried along the edges. Worst of all was their size. When he tried them on with a pair of jeans they stuck out the bottom, the length between his shin and boot a few inches. It took about two pairs of thick sports socks to decrease the gap. Murphy threw them in the closet.


Murphy walked to school and back every day. It was a combined total of about five miles every day. His pair of trainers were being worn out rapidly. Sometimes Murphy took the cowboy boots out of the closet and tried to convince himself they were not that bad. He tried them on and walked around in them, forcing himself to believe that they could be worn. His brother was amused at how crappy the boots were. He knew his brother knew it, Murphy was in denial. He was disgusted at the waste of money. It had taken months to save that amount


One morning Murphy decided to wear the boots to school. I didn't waste my money, he told himself, they're not that bad. Murphy put on the two pairs of socks to make his feet fit into them. He took a few steps and his feet hurt. Ahh, just breaking them in, she'll be right, he thought. Murphy left. He wondered how he could make the distance. Every step he took was agonizing. The heel was huge, he felt like a member of Kiss. The socks were sweating, so was he. He could feel the shame. He turned back home, took them off and threw them in the closet, enraged. 'Hunk of shit!!' he screamed to no one as he threw them. In his rage he threw one at his bedroom window and smashed it. How would he explain that one to his dad? He sat and stared at them in shock.


Several months later school was out. Murphy and his brother wanted to take their wire and steal free arcade games. It was a genius idea. Get a piece of fishing wire, bend the end, put it in the game slot, connect the bended end to the wire that the coins hit to activate the credit and free games! The idea had gotten out and was commonly used around town. No one paid for their games anymore, just got hundreds of credits with the wire. The arcade owners were going out of business. Murphy and his brother got dressed and readied to leave. Murphy thought he would give the boots another go, after all he would be riding his ten speed into town. Not as much pressure on his feet. So he did it. His brother said nothing, inwardly ashamed. So there they were, two freaks with long greasy hair, leather jackets, black jeans and cowboy boots on ten speeds.


They got into town sweating. Already a crowd was at the video parlour, theiving free games. Murphy and his brother were the leaders at one time, but were just faces in the crowd now. The idea was out of control. Murphy went up to Exerion, his favourite game. He put in the wire and activated twenty three credits. As he did this a goup of Maoris came up to the game, pushed him aside, smashed the coin slot and emptied all the change. The game was fucked, no longer working. The place was crowded beyond capacity. Suddenly the police entered, busting some fellows working the wire. Murphy and his brother ran off. As they did Murphy tripped undert he weight of his boots, twisting his ankle. Humilated he took of the boot and threw it down the street. His brother was gone. Murphy unlocked his bike and saw a flat tire. Instead he stole an unlocked one next to it. After retrieving the boot he sped off.


Murphy got to the local park where he threw the bike in the bushes. He'd get his bike tomorrow. As he walked off he saw a head sticking out of the tussock, the person grunting. He inspected closer to see some guy taking a shit. The man saw Murphy and ran off, pants down, without wiping. Murphy laughed out loud. When he got home his dad asked him where his bike was. Murphy said it was stolen. 'Good to see you're wearing your boots' his dad said. Murphy went to the garage, got a saw and chopped the heels off. That was worth the one hundred and fifty dollars alone.