score points with, my dear." said the
raincoat wearing pop star. "Where is your
passport? I need to stamp it. You
wouldnt want to leave here unstamped, hmmm?"
With that, he pulled out his stamper
, made it wet, and put his mark
on all of the papers. "Take that!"
he exclaimed, happy in his work, yet
somehow dissatisfied with the BCS rankings and
why the team he owned, The Albatross',
had never risen high enough to warrant
any sort of footwear deal, like he
had hoped. Even when the team's archrivals,
The Steamy Chunks flew into town, everyone
just yawned and hoped for a better
show to come. The McBrides were in
the mood to drink and paw at
Hooters gals, where the game was televised.
Someone ordered hot wings and curly fries.
The game was tied 5-5, when surprisingly,
the opposing team's cheerleaders spontaneously metamorphosed into
hydrocephalic, bobbleheaded Martha Stewart clones! Distracted, the
fans weren't sure who they should cheer
for, so they formed a conga line
and dance around well into the night
drunk on flat beer and aerosol fumes
provided by a local beverage company. Someone
jumped from the rafters like Eddie Vedder
at a Kiss concert, screaming the entire
chorus of "Bad to the Bone" at
the folks he was plummeting towards. Meanwhile,
Cheech lost his stash to a Narc
but it wasn't the first time. What
a silly thing to do. Slowly he
turned around, dreading what nightmare vision would
appear. It was Stacy Keach, wondering if
Paul Reubens was from the Hamburger Train
as Cheech's cousin sang "Treat Me Like
You Know I Like It," Tommy Chong
walked outside and took a whiz in
the snow, practicing his penmanship by writing
"All work and no play makes Chong
get the munchies, myan." The stream of
concious thought was interupted by a loud
backfire from a 59 Cadillac, scattering the weed
to the four winds and making sure
that he would have to make for
the border (not Taco Bell) in an
inane attempt to smuggle beer into Mexico
so that the celebration known as Cinco
|