HOW MONDAY NIGHT FOOTBALL RUINED THE FUTURE OF MANKIND
OR
[THE GAME TO END ALL GAMES]
It was like some bullshit scenario, the quarterback fell to his knees and cried midfield. The landmines had exploded above the players and incinerated most of the audience.
With no one to watch, he felt like a gladiator with no armor, just skin and bone, flesh for the taking.
That's when the cheerleaders committed harekare.
The coaching staff mauled the refs, blaming them for the deaths.
And the announcers announced it all until the end.
The quarterback's tears penitently fell to the turf just as the enemy pressed the button on the nuclear device in the '06 Mazda on the side of the field, being given away at halftime.
From a distance the city could see that Monday Night Football was ruined. An American pastime was shattered with a puff of smoke and a slight whimper.
And just when we thought it was all over, up from the underground came the next step in reality. A sharp new form of energy spurred out from the battle scene, traveling along the visual transit lines and penetrating the eyes of every viewer worldwide. Years later some would say it was all the energy of the fans minced with the passion of the game, but today all of America, most of Canada, and a good part of Mexico was enveloped by a pulse of some sort and laid to waste immediately.
For an encore, the pulse gave us a new breed of human, a race of primates with the guts to face any challenge and conquer and adversity. They were direct descendents of Sonny Bono himself. In fact the likeness (and fact that they all had mustaches) was almost too much to bear. The nations of South America, now the primary power in the Western Hemisphere fought a short bloody war and merged under the leadership of Che Guevara's clone to rise against Sonny's Army (as it was now called).
Still unsure of the origins of this species and why a random pulse from failed Monday Night Football game would have any bearing on its creation, Guevara's Clone's Army launched an all out attack on that which once was the United States, now mostly a wasteland, although Las Vegas had been rebuilt.
As the fleets amassed in the harbors and the troops washed ashore in a scene very reminiscent of the D-Day invasions, all hope for the human world rested in Guevara's Clone's Army.
But something sinister was afoot...hurricanes!
Everyone bumvertised for bighairmania.com
In the wake of this latest catastrophe, the Commissioner of the NFL, a newly elected Condoleeza Rice (who had conveniently evacuated to Argentina, just before the game to end all games), rallied what she liked to call the Reagan Brigade and rode horses in thru Mexico and invaded Sonny's Army's headquarters in San Antonio.
The city's streets ran red with blood and mustaches. Cher clones cried on corners, dying babies in their hands.
It was a travesty. But humanity must survive.
Later, the ghost of Edison came on above the heads of everyone in the form of a celestial lightbulb. The torturous revolution had come to a close, followed soon by a massacre, some occupations, one or two liberations, a little bit of genocide and yet another vicious civil war.
To end all of humanities continuing blunders, it took a giant talking doll from New Jersey to rampage across the remainder of civilization and one dude to tell everyone to start being nice to each other and team up to destroy said doll.
They did this.
And just then when it couldn't get any more absurd, I decided to clean my coffeemaker with some lemon juice and a bit o gin, took up residence at Menlo Park and decided to reinvent electricity. This time we'll do without the voltage.
But as with all good things, I bashed a good cop's skull in with a phonograph and they gave me the chair. Cooking my brains out, I thought of those pretty things that always make me smile.
:)
Rocket to Riyadh, available now!
