Wednesday, September 10

Week 1 Death Blossom!

There are few things in this world that I commit more time and effort to than my fantasy football team, The Hobo Sodomites. I spend virtually twenty minutes each week to meticulously calculate my starters and sitters, weighing my options as to the best possible combination of points and matchups. Then, I masturbate four times, ejaculating into a old Smucker's jar. Finally, I set my teams and pray to my heathen God that She will grant me victory over my foes, culminating in an elaborate ceremony involving live piglets and medieval pole arms.

Sadly, I lost to my brother Trey on opening weekend. Ben Roethlisberger and Hines Ward, the NFL's version to Harold and Kumar, rode me hard and put me to bed bloody around four o'clock on Sunday. I'm still walking with a limp. During the initial stages of my excruciatingly painful recovery, while in a deep haze of barbituates and whiskey, I experienced a vision:
Right after I picked up the flyswatter I keep at my bedside for just such occaisions, the vision spoke to me! It said, "Remember, Death Blossom delivers only one massive volley at close range... theoretically."
Each week here at Magnificent Bastards, I present Death Blossom. I will pick one of my Hobo Sodomites and describe for you, in gory detail how I will kill that player. Winning and losing does not concern me. What concerns me is the unyielding suffering and eventual death of a player that has failed me, in which I have a personal interest in succeeding. I thank you in advance for your tax dollars that will pay for my court costs and lengthy stay in prison.

This week, my victim is Donte' Stallworth. It's easy to hate this asshole, because he used to be a New England Patriot. But you know what really grinds my gears? The shitbreath injured himself DURING PRE-GAME WARMUPS. Zero points. ZERO.

I'm going to fly to Cleveland and harpoon that doucheknuckle. And on that harpoon will be affixed a sturdy iron chain. That chain will in turn be steadfastly affixed to the rear bumper of a 1999 Ford Expedition. That Ford Expedition will be at the bottom of a lake of fucking lava. And in that lake of lava will be hungry bears with lava-proof SCUBA suits that have specially adapted mouthpieces so they can fucking gnaw on him, starting with his genitals. Next, the bears will shred his throat and eat his useless hands. Then, the bears will shit out the charred, partially-digested body parts. It won't take long for the laxatives to work their magic, especially in such harsh environs. Finally, the bears will force-feed his burnt, shitty dick and hands back to Donte' Stallworth, while they laugh and laugh. One of the bears will be homosexual.

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