And here we go with the singing of the National Anthem!
ALRIGHT NON-EXISTENT LADIES AND GENTLEMENT, PLAY BALL WITH YER FEETS!
Now, I'm basically gonna go over every little thing that goes on here tonight and use my arbitrary code-language to describe what the players are doing on the field.
The Infidels win the 20-sided-dice roll and thus the kickoff. Right away they're going with a Bum's Rush play where one dude just runs around the other, and BOOM, he really burned that waffle on both sides! I've never seen a game start off like this! The one guy is now doing, uh, he's running away on the choco-bar express and feathered all his little fancy pants. The milk carton is showing us where ALL the missing babies are tonight, folks. The Nastrond Infidels have gotten a first down. And now they've got a second, but somehow it's still 1st and 10. 10 free movie rentals from Redbags. The Turtles are not actually playing the game at all and instead are actually killing various members of the Infidels. I mean, who'da thunk that THIS was going to be how the evening went? Am I right consumers!
We'll be right back after this very imbecilic word from our masters... SPONSORS,
Alright folks, were back here at the game of the century as the Nastrond Infidels take on the New York Turtles and, uh....The Turtles have basically not been playing the game at all and instead have been killing every Infidel they find. The Infidel's coach, The Shredder, is looking RATHER pissed, to say the least, but he's not really allowed on the field. So. Well, sucks to be him.
AH, so the Turtles have gone over to the bench to take a break and are eating, I think, pizza. With marshmallows and anchovies. Now, call me crazy, but there's nothing like a good home-cooked pizza like Uncle Daddy used to make 'em. Roll out the dough, add the dear innards, say a prayer to Pazuzu and we had a lovely evening watching 90210. Unlike that heart warming story, though, blood is running cold as the Infidels are attempting to storm the field, and yes they are taking the ball and just running back and forth over the goal line, tossing the ball to another player and repeating the process. I think the score is 9,789,000 to .05 right now.
The Turtles are still eating and huddling. They've just said Cowabunga and gave a ridonkulous high five to each other. Their coach, Master Splinter is just ecstatic! as ecstatic as a 100 year old invalid can be, I guess.
But, at least the Infidels are actually playing THE FREAKIN' GAME!!!!!111!
Now the turtles have called in their replacements onto the field. I didn't know they actually had other players. Strange.
They're, uh, they are cats. All cats. One of them has a sword. It has a very eerie eye on it. *asks the guy behind him who the players on the Turtles' side are*
OH. It's the Thundercats. The one doing some sort of sorcery stuff, making his MOTHERLOVIN' SWORD GET BIGGER, well, that's Liono. And he's, yes he's started slaughtering.
Let's go to commercial.
We're back. And everyone's dead. I mean, all the Infidels are dead. The one's who didn't escape. The Shredder has summoned a giant, one-eyed robot thingy and escaped saying that, no, tonight he did NOT dine on Turtle Soup. I'm sitting here eating a bag of cheetos and wondering why my second wife left me for that trucker. All in all, it's been a good game. I got to use my fancy words to describe things. I said Line of Scrimmage but you were watching commercials, so you didn't hear it. But oh well.
Technically the Nastrond Infidels are the winners with millions of points. But the Turtles clearly weren't playing the same game and destroyed the "Shell out of the evil dudes," their words, not mine.
Join us here at Blah Blah Blah Stadium where we'll watch the Cleveland Steamers go up against the Niflheim Chodes.