Des: Welcome to another
edition of the Chicago Bears football pre-game show. The Bears face off against
the Cardinals after a hard fought win against the Seahawks, a hollow, depleted
husk of its once-mighty self. Will the Bears take advantage of a yet another
lackluster team? And will anyone watch the Bears when you could watch the Cubs play the White Sox for the last game featuring
legendary Sox broadcaster Hawk Harrelson?
To answer these and similar questions is our panel of
experts: Concord Wainwright Peabody, Captain Silas Charles “Sweet Release” Red-beard,
Modre, the trans-logical guru, the Prissy Minion, Doctor Sally McChesty, Ellie
Mae McGillicutty, former Bears Coach Marc Trestman, and the technicolor
shamblings of Drunky McDumbAss.
Redbeard: ARRRH, mateys! Once
again, it be time for me to reveal my predictions for today’s game. So, after
consuming a cocktail called “Bilge Swill” and crashing through the hollow hull
of my pirate ship, only to be rescued by the watery hand of the Lady of the Lake,
who inscribed today’s predictions with the mystic sword Excalibur, first upon
my termite-infested peg leg, then when she ran out of room, on my sea water
rusted hook for a hand, and then finally upon my pleated brow, which I will
read using a shattered mirror broken upon the skull of many a foe, but mostly
Aquaman. I have done many a team up with Black Manta, who still has the
scariest voice ever heard on a late 1970s cartoon. Anyone who has watched the “Challenge
of the Superfriends” knows what I’m talking about. Oh, yes: what will be the
outcome of today’s game? The Bears will defeat the Cardinals 28-6, with the
defense scoring all four touchdowns. Also, yrujni gnidne nosaes a evah lliw
yksiburt.
Des: Concord Peabody. What are
you bringing to the table today?
Concord: Des, even though
nobody heeded my multiple quarterback strategy last week, I’m back again to
provide another ritualistic coaching strategy you should follow even when it
makes absolutely no sense to do so. And here it is: Starting pitchers should
pitch exactly 100 pitches per game. No more, no less. I don’t care if the
pitcher is working on a no-hitter, if he’s down by 20 runs, if both shoulders
are dislocated, or if his clothes have been knocked off by a line drive a la Charlie Brown. 100 pitches.
Des: Thank you, Concord.
Drunky, even though I pride myself on not asking a question unless I’m prepared
to hear the answer, what, uh, what is happening?
Drunky McDumbAss: I was enjoying
myself tailgating at a bar called “Slumpy’s.” Except it turned out to be a
mattress store called “Sleepy’s.”
Des: Prissy Minion. Make me
feel better about myself.
Prissy Minion: Oh, Des. You
have the bubbly effervescence of an Alka Seltzer commercial sung by Sammy
Davis, Jr.
Des: …which I have in my music
collection somewhere, thanks to occasional friend of the blog Stronger Than Dirt
Pete Moss.
