Bears vs. Lions: 10-18-2015

Des: Welcome to another edition of the Chicago Bears football pre-game show. The Bears face off against the Detroit Lions in the Race to Get to .500. Will the Bears take this opportunity to notch their third win against a very, very beatable team? Or will a Bears loss send the team scrambling to trade Matt Forte to build toward a future that may never come?

To answer these and similar questions is our panel of experts: Concord Wainwright Peabody, Captain Silas Charles “Eurotrash” Red-beard, Modre- the trans-Western guru, the Prissy Minion, Doctor Sally McChesty, Ellie Mae MacGillicutty, and the Keystone Light mascot, Drunky McDumbAss

Redbeard: ARRRH, mateys! As ye know all too well, I predict weather through me various physical ailments and predict sports by me communion with various obscure deities from ancient, now defunct, Parthenons. Sadly, recent events have forced me to combine the two, as I am now cursed by numerous gods. Famed volcano goddess Pele has singed me ginger beard, which means we’ll have snow flurries tonight and Jay Cutler will score two touchdowns and fumble the ball twice. Then the Norse god of thunder, Thor, will cause an uncomfortable electric tingling in me hook that serves as me right hand, which can only mean partly cloudy skies tomorrow with a high of 50 degrees and also a Bears special teams player, who has wallowed in obscurity until today, will return a punt for a touchdown. Finally, Xochiquetzal—the Aztec goddess of plants, I guess?—has given me a bout of toe fungus, so, I’m thinkin’ we’ll be seeing a bright harvest moon tonight with a low dippin’ down to 29 degrees and at least one interception returned for a touchdown.

Des: “Weather and sports-- together.” Finally, a marketable slogan for the good captain.

Sally: A huge improvement from his current slogan: “Weather, sports, and anger all wrapped in a tiny little package of hate.”

Des: Modre. Fog up the mind with a gentle mist of inscrutability.

Modre: “The ones who best predict the future are the ones who define the future.” I define “future” as “flabbitty tabb tabb rinkitty dink dink sham sham shammitty sham bop… that’s the way it should be… wahoooo… yeah!”

Des: Let’s turn now to our panelist who’s less insightful than a two year old’s crayon wall scrawlings: Drunky McDumbass.

Drunky: Des, I’m going to horn in on your territory by making a terrible joke in response to something that was said 20 minutes ago. To wit: the only Keystone XL Pipeline I care about is my 1000 week Keystone Keg Club subscription where they send me a keg every Friday.

Des: Drunky, how much did you pay for that subscription?

Drunky: 1K

Des: Concord Peabody. Do you have anything for us?

Concord: I’ve heard that many states are considering having their own fantasy football leagues in a desperate effort to save their pension funds. To the listeners reading at home, I’d like to be your state’s Secretary of Fantasy Football so I can finally enjoy some of that sweet, sweet money.

Des: In a serious vein, I’d like to see a Draft Kings vs. Fan Duel Pro Bowl, featuring the biggest money makers of each league choosing the two teams. Prissy Minion. Take this to the outer limits of what the English language can communicate.

Prissy Minion: Des, what the world needs now may be beyond your ability. What the world wants now, you’ve got in spades.

Des: Ellie Mae McGillicutty. What fricasseed wisdom do you have for us today?

Ellie Mae: Des, out of sheer boredom, I watched the Weather Channel’s “3 Scientists Walk Into a Bar”, which would be better titled “3 Drunks Talk About Science in a Bar.” “See, what people should do is, what they should do is, teach about volcanoes by driving a bloodhound in a back of a pickup truck next to my twelve gauge and blow up some ping pong balls in the middle of a football field while some guy with a thick Southern drawl randomly makes some science noises like ‘caldera’ and ‘vent pipe’ and ‘P-waves’ and ‘S-waves’ and na-haw-haw-hawwww.”

Des: Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna tear anyone away from Doctor Who. Speaking of fictional doctors: Doctor McChesty. You drew the short straw.

Sally: So I did. So I did. Sit back and watch sports fans, as the Bears play in a game that represents a huge time commitment if you combine it with Sunday night’s Cubs game. Those of you reading at home may want to deeply assess whether your marriage can survive six hours of sports viewing.

Bears vs. Seahawks: 9-27-2015

Des: Welcome to another edition of the Chicago Bears football pre-game show. The Bears face off against the Seahawks, last year’s NFC Champions, whose dreams of Super-bowl glory were crushed under the deflated balls of Tom Brady and one—ONE, I tells ya--- bad call by Coach Pete Carroll. Will the Bears’ newest, nameless backup quarterback take advantage of the opportunity presented by the crippling injury to Jay Cutler, like Tom Brady did when Drew Bledsoe was knocked out of the Patriots in 2001? Or will he end up like what’s-his-name, who replaced Bledsoe for the Cowboys in 2006?

To answer these and similar questions is our panel of experts: Concord Wainwright Peabody, Captain Silas Charles “Rainbow Warrior” Red-beard, Modre- the trans-Western guru, the Prissy Minion, Doctor Sally McChesty, Ellie Mae MacGillicutty, and proud owner of an oxygen tent timeshare, Drunky McDumbAss.

Redbeard: ARRRH, mateys! ‘Tis ironic, Des, that ye would nickname me “Rainbow Warrior”, since I was the mission leader of “Operation Satanique”, the French intelligence operation that blew up the Rainbow Warrior. Speaking of satanic operations, let’s take a look at the New England Patriots, who remain undefeated both on and off the field. Be there any team capable of channeling the forces of darkness better than Bill Belichick, whether it take the form of scrambled headset frequencies, deflated footballs, or tricking the opposing team into playing “outside themselves”, “running uphill”, forgetting to turn on that extra gear, and not playing “in space”?  Did I use every football cliché uttered by Joe Buck?

Des: That’s not even scratching the surface, Redbeard.

Redbeard: Aye, Des. I know. I know.

Redbeard: So. To answer me earlier question: as one who dabbles into the dark arts for fun and profit, my advice to other NFL teams is: if you want to successfully tap into the profane arts arcane, don’t be obvious and outright wear the symbols of evil, like the Redskins or the Raiders. Wear something that superficially ties into the great traditions of America, like the Dallas Cowboys. They had a pretty good run. Once.

Des: What do you mean by “dark arts”, Captain? Calligraphy? Black and white photography?

Redbeard: Let me take a lock of your hair, Des, and I’ll make a nice action figure for you.

Des: Halloween comes early this year. Speaking of the great Halloween tradition of hiding behind a mask while building up a tolerance for New Year’s Eve, here’s Drunky McDumbAss. What football party are you ruining this Sunday afternoon?

Drunky: I prefer to be at an undisclosed location, Des. Today’s drinking game involves me having a sip of LA beer every time there’s a graphic showing the number of quarterbacks who have played for the Bears since 2010. Even I, who am on my third stem-cell experimental pig liver, can’t drink a real beer for every time that topic comes up. I think there are numerous small college towns in Illinois whose entire economy is based on supplying Chicago with backup quarterbacks.

Des: Unfortunately, those are on-line colleges. Concord Peabody. What are your thoughts?

Concord: Every time I watch the commercial for “Draft Kings”, it saddens my heart. I see burly meatheads enjoying the camaraderie of other men and the occasional, beautiful supportive woman, all united in the pursuit of virtual victory. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my one-bedroom studio apartment trying to unsuccessfully use my Draft Kings smart phone application, which is incompatible with my I-phone 4’s operating system, which was a discounted experimental version of IOS 5Q on the MCI network. Based on the data I was able to painfully extract from a grease-encrusted Wi-Fi router at Rudy Tuesday’s just seconds before it went out of business, I predict a Bears victory: 41-17.

Des: Concord, why aren’t you getting hammered alongside Drunky McDumbAss? Modre. I have no clumsy way to transition to your one sentence summary of Donald Trump, but give it to me anyway.

Modre: “The candle that burns brightest burns briefest.” Especially if that candle is snuffed out by Mark Cuban.

Des: Prissy Minion. Activate.

Prissy Minion: Apply directly to the forehead, Des. Your cascading voice grabs the ear of the listener with the tenacity of a pit bull. Or Mike Tyson. Too soon?

Des: If this were 2005.

Des: Ellie Mae McGillicutty. What southern fried wisdom do you have for us today?

Ellie Mae: Des, I couldn’t help but notice that the Bears only play one game in the former Confederacy. What’s the matter, isn’t the NFC South weak enough for you?

Des: We were tired of giving Ron Rivera his only win. Doctor Sally McChesty. Would you seal this episode in frozen carbonite?

Redbeard: ARRRRHHHH, mateys! Would it not be better for all concerned if ye just let me bookend this episode like the deus ex piratannica that I am?

Sally: I’m sure that’s just what the listener/reader wants to hear: More from a pale echo of Herman Melville and H.P. Lovecraft.

Redbeard: And I tried to pattern myself more after the B.J. Gigglesnort Hotel. Now if ye will excuse me, I will go up to me attic and pretend to be sailing a ship.