Sally: Beer, beer, beer. Bears, Bears, Bears. Blog, blog, blog.
Des: Welcome to another
edition of the Chicago Bears football pre-game show. The Bears face off against
the Buccaneers after a close loss to last year’s Super Bowl losers, the Atlanta
Falcons. Because I’m already sick of both sports and politics, let’s skip the
opening question and the standard introduction of our panel of experts and jump
right to Captain Redbeard’s Treasure Map to the Super Bowl.
Redbeard: ARRRH, mateys! Here
be my misbegotten picks for this year’s Super Bowl: For the AFC: ‘twill be the Patriots,
Ravens, Titans, and Raiders submerging their foes in a tsunami of methodical
play calling and competent defense, with the Dolphins and Chiefs entering the
fray as so-called wild cards that are, at best, a brief distraction on a cold
January afternoon. Turning me piteous gaze to the NFC, I foresee the Giants,
Lions, Buccaneers, and Cardinals overwhelming their rivals with a storm surge
of well-executed special teams and favorable officiating, with the Cowboys and
Falcons making an all-too-brief appearance as faded speed bumps in the wild
card round. But picture and frame this, me hearties: this year’s Super Bowl
match will once again feature the Patriots dispatching another hapless foe as
predictably as… every superhero movie in the 21st century. I’m sorry…
I’m still enchanted by the digital wonderment of every Marvel or DC movie. How
do they get those ones and zeros to equal cinematic magic? I’ve been told by
those in the know that I will finally get my Aquaman versus Sub-Mariner movie
by 2045. What a time to be alive! Oh, before I forget in a haze of rum and
leprosy: The Patriots will defeat the Giants in Brady/Belichick’s final revenge
against all of humanity in a game that will earn $500 billion dollars in
advertising revenue despite having lower ratings than the new Star Trek series
that, by this time, will be appearing solely on Sling TV. Also, the Patriots
will deliberately lose the first seven games before going on to win all of the
last nine games and every playoff game just to destroy what’s left of the NFL
audience outside of New England.
Des: Thank you, Captain.
Before I punt the ball over to Sally McChesty to take over as master of
ceremonies, let’s check in with the Prissy Minion.
Prissy Minion: Oh, Des. May I
say, Des, that it has been an honor to continue to appear on your Bears blog?
While even the most dimwitted Tweeter with two thumbs and a grudge against
everyone can garner 500 followers with “insights” of, at most, 80 characters
per blast, you inexplicably indulge in ultra-long form imaginary dialog
featuring interchangeable characters, making posts that haphazardly appear,
discussing a sport that is now shunned by everyone to the left of George Bush
Sr., with only every 23rd joke hitting its mark (the Illuminati
comedy ratio). It’s as if Tom Snyder were continuing to churn out episodes of
the Tomorrow Show solely on Betamax video that you can only order by mail, with
a self-addressed stamped envelope to Boston Mass 02134, and can only be paid
for by coupons earned by selling subscriptions to Grit magazine that you can
only order by cutting out forms on the inside of old Richie Rich/Casper team-up
comics in the Dot Polka/Little Lotta back-up feature. And it has to feature Richie
Rich and Cadbury in their super-hero identities as Rippy and Crashman because
that would increase the obscurity factor to a level at which no comedy can
escape! And I say these words as the deepest, most sincere compliment I can
possibly give.
Des: Thank you, Prissy. This
will be the last Bears post for this season…
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