(I'll have a Frozen Four piece up shortly, but I figured people could use a laugh on a Monday. Enjoy.)
Language warning: Every now and then we use naughty words on this site. This is REALLY one of those times. If you have delicate sensibilities you should skip this piece of fiction in it's entirety.
Scene: You remember College Football High School don't you? The place where every college football program is a foul mouthed, pain in the ass teenager with too much time and disposable cash on their hands. Well, we've only told a small part of its ongoing story. It's been a few months since we last visited, and boy have things changed. Colorado and Nebraska both left the Big XII cheerleading squad, Nebraska grew a dong and joined the Big Ten, and the home economics teacher was being investigated for
fondling a student running an illegal craps tournament in the school parking lot and paying off the security guards to look the other way. So... it's been a crazy year.
But school is still in session so let's return to the College Football High School lunchroom for their Monday lunch break. You know how it works. Everyone eats together in the Leon Dining Hall. Except for those short bus kids from the Sun Belt. They eat in a Teflon covered room and are only allowed to use spoons for safety's sake. The school has to use a fire hose to clean it up afterward, you know, because they get feces on the ceiling. Still, you remember how it is, and it's not unlike any other High School in America, all the groups stick together. The Big XII, PAC-10, SEC, ACC, and Big East all sit apart from one another at separate tables, telling each other how crappy the other tables are.
Over by one of the windows we join Northwestern, Illinois, and Wisconsin, all wearing their letter jackets and sitting down to lunch. We join the conversation already in progress....
Northwestern: Dude! How in God's name can you eat that?
Wisconsin: What? It's just cheese curds wrapped in bacon slathered in pork fat that's been deep fried and garnished with a bratwurst and gravy and cheese fries. You jealous, tofu boy?
Northwestern: Screw you, this is healthy. I read all about it. I'll be healthy and smart and you'll die at 26 from an coronary...
Wisconsin: And at 26 you'll never have touched a breast. Pipe down.
/Northwestern grumbles, silently concedes that he will die a virgin... and alone/
/Michigan and Penn St. sit down at the table, with Penn St. already bitching at Michigan/
Penn St.: Seriously man. Will you please get him to shut up? He's your little brother.
Michigan: You think I don't want him to shut up? Christ, I'm getting to the point where I want him to choke on his own tongue. He beats me at Madden a couple of times and I never hear the end of it. I figured after I stuffed him in a garbage can this basketball season he'd shut up for a while. But...
Michigan St.: S'UP BRAHS!?!?!?!?
Illinois: Christ man, we're right here. No need to yell.
Michigan St.: CAN'T HELP IT BROSEPH, IT'S JUST HOW I ROLL. YOU SEE ME ROLLIN... YOU HATI...
Table: SHUT UP!
Michigan St.: Y'ALL JUST HATIN ON ME CUZ I BEAT YO ASS. PATRON'S ALL I DRINK!
Wisconsin: Michigan, did your mom get gang banged at an Eminem concert? How the fuck are you two brothers?
/Michigan looks at Michigan St. gelling his hair and staring at his reflection in the window, makes a mental note to put his parents in the cheapest nursing home he can find/
Michigan: I have no idea.
Michigan St.: SHUT IT BITCH! THREE IN A ROW! WOOOO! THAT'S RIGHT! I'M DA BEST IN DA STATE! I'M THE CHARLIE SHEEN OF THE THIS BITCH! ALWAYS WINNING!
Michigan: I swear to Go.... Once I'm healthy you're dead meat. Think about it, I'm still not back to full strength yet and I beat you down in basketball this season. It's only a matter of time now. And don't think I'm going to forget what an ass you've been.
Michigan St.: WHATEVS LLLLLLOSER! CAN'T TOUCH THIS! /kisses biceps/ WOOO!
Michigan: By the way, your pants are on backwards.
Michigan St.: Whu? /looks down, discovers his pants are indeed on backwards/
Illinois: Heads up boys, here comes Jamie Lee Curtis.
Nebraska: /voice cracking/ Hey guys. /sits down next to Michigan/
/visibly uncomfortable, Michigan St. moves over two chairs/
Nebraska: What's the problem, d-bag? /voice still cracking/ You got something to say to me?
Michigan St.: IT AIN'T RIGHT. YOUZ USED TO BE IN THE BIG XII, NOW UR HERE. IT AIN'T NATURAL.
Penn St.: Still getting used to the
conference dong, huh, Nebraska?
Nebraska: No. Are you?
/Everyone is distracted as a visibly stoned Iowa stumbles over to the table/
Iowa: Hey.... Man, do you guy's know how had it is to ride a moped with no feet!? I almost got killed on the way over..... It's crazy.... Where's my lunch... I had pizza.... no, that was yesterday... oh wait... there's some /pulls half eaten piece of pizza from his pants pocket and consumes it in one bite/
Wisconsin: Jeezus Iowa, were you hanging out at DJK's house again?
Iowa: Naw man... I don't know what you're talking about... /giggles/... yeah... I totally was. It was awesome. Don't tell my dad...
Iowa: Fuck you Michigan. He held a press conference and everything's fine, bet you didn't know that, if you'd watch TV you'd know that.... you gonna eat that?
Wisconsin: So, was that trail of blood leaking out of your ass from your trip to Arizona or spending too much time in the weight room with your "trainer"?
Iowa: Not cool dude. What are you laughing at Illinois, I'm not taking any shit from a guy that got ass pounded by The Situation over there.
Michigan St.: HA! THAT'S RIGHT BRAH! I OWN YOU! WHUT WHUT!? THE SITUATION IS THE SHIZNIT!
Nebraska: Is he always like that?
Northwestern: Only recently. Up until a few years ago he was the football equivalent of Jimmy Fallon. Then he found a weight room, some roids and he's been like this ever since. I think it's affecting what little mental capacity he has, all he does now is yell and start fights for no reason.
Penn St.: Dude, aren't you facing charges in Colorado for battery?
Michigan St.: HELLZ YEAH! I BEAAT DOWNZ SOME BRITISH DUDES! THATZ WHUT THEY GETZ! USA! USA! USA! COLORADO WANTS SUM OF DIS THEY CAN COME AND GET ME! I'LL FIGHT EM ALL.
Wisconsin: You know that Colorado has an extradition statute here, right? Never mind. Of course you don't now that.
Michigan St.: THEY CAN EXTRADITE THESE NUTZ BIATCH! I'M GONNA GO GIT A RED BULL TO GO WITH MY FUCKING PATRON! USA! USA! USA!
/Michigan St. wanders off. The whole table turns to Michigan and laughs/
Michigan: Fuck you guys... Oh god dammit... there goes the day.....
/Ohio St. walks up to the table. He's wearing a letter jacket whose sleeves have been ripped off to display a tattooed version of the Sistine Chapel on one arm and a dragon humping a bull on top of a giant block "O" on the other./
Ohio St: Wazzup bitches. What do you think of these? I just got em.
/demonstrates that by flexing his arm he can make it look as though the dragon is thrusting/
Wisconsin: The only thing I'm noticing is that you seem to be missing your state championship rings and those tacky ass gold pants you're always wearing. You "lose" them down at the pawn shop again?
Ohio State: /smiles/ Yeah. I seem to have misplaced them..... ON MY ARMZ! /smiles, continues flexing/
Northwestern: Aren't you in enough trouble? You're already suspended for five games. Or are you just trying to draw attention to yourself?
Ohio St: What are you talking about? There's no trouble. There's just a slight misunderstanding between my family and the representatives of the media.
Northwestern: I assume "the representatives of the media" means local law enforcement.
Ohio St.: Don't make me beat your ass.
Michigan: Haha. Your Dad's going to football Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.
Ohio St.: Shut your hole bitch, or I'll stuff you back in the trunk of my car again.
Michigan: /under his breath/ That last time didn't count, cheater.
Ohio St.: WHAT!?
Michigan: /fights back tears/ At least he's not lying to investigators, asshole. My new dad is TREMENDOUS!
Nebraska: So, seriously now, how is your dad not going to football jail?
Ohio St.: No. He's not. He's taken the steps to punish himself with a personal suspension for his improper understanding of the attorney client privilege. It's not like it's his fault. Even Grandpa Gee said so.
Illinois: How is there any attorney/client privilege there? That dude wasn't your Dad's lawyer. In fact he sold out his client to tell your dad that YOU were trading our football stuff for cash and tattoos.
Ohio St.: I have no recollection of what you're talking about ass-hat.
Northwestern: Riiiiiiiiiiiight. /rolls eyes/
Ohio St.: Coach Delany told me not to answer any of those questions. He's punished me for my transgressions and I'm attempting to learn from my mistakes. /snickers/
/whole table starts laughing/
/Iowa, detecting laughter, stops staring at his hand and looks up to join the conversation/
Ohio St.: Glad to see Rhabdo: First Blood has come out of the haze to join us.
Ohio St.: Oh... Hey. Here comes Minnesota.
/Minnesota hobbles up on permanent arm crutches. His misshapen head is matched by shriveled legs/
Minnesota: H-h-h-hey g-g-g-guys....what's going d-d-d-down?
Table: Hey Minnesota.
Minnesota: S-s-s-so what's the deal? We g-g-g-gonna practice today or w-w-w-what?
Wisconsin: Yeah Minnesota we'll be there. Ain't that right guys?
Minnesota: All r-r-r-right! Sw-w-w-weet! Hey Illin-n-n-nois, Iowa, m-m-m-make s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sure you bitches br-r-ring your game today. I w-w-w-w-ant to finally break a sweat out th-th-th-there.
/Illinois and Iowa grumble to themselves/
Minnesota: Ok-k-k-k-kay. I'm going t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-o get ready for practice. S-s-s-s-s-see you out th-th-there.
/Minnesota hobbles off toward the door/
Northwestern: He's so brave.
Ohio St.: Such a strong person, I can't believe how much he accomplishes despite his.... you know... developmental ... I mean being part of the Minnesota athletic department family. Poor kid's got the deck stacked against him.
Michigan: I mean... man... his last dad had to be on something. There's no other explanation. Life's just not fair. He's an inspiration.
Michigan: /looking at Iowa and Illinois/ I still can't believe he pinned you guys.
Iowa: Oh... The curious case of Benjamin Button finally pipes up. You look like a raisin with glasses. You still threatening to transfer if you don't get to be starting quarterback?
Penn St.: I'm just exploring my options.
Illinois: Ha. That was your excuse when I whipped your ass earlier this year.
Penn St.: Just because your dad didn't get fired last year doesn't me it won't happen this year, and furthermore.... Here come the twins.
/Indiana and Purdue, the Big Ten's conjoined twins, approach the table. Bickering as always/
Purdue: I said GIVE IT BACK.
Indiana: Fuck you. I won it fair and square.
/Purdue reaches across their body, slaps Indiana/
Indiana: YOU WANNA GO AGAIN FUCKER!??
/the twins engage in a one armed slap fight with Indiana ripping off part of Purdue's mustache/
Michigan: Guys, what the shit? Sit down and calm down. Jeezus.
Purdue: It's his fault. He took my bucket and won't give it back.
Indiana: It's MY Bucket.
Nebraska: I can't believe you guys argue about a bedpan like that.
Purdue: It's not a bedpan. It's an oaken bucket!
Nebraska: To-mA-to, To-mah-to.
Northwestern: Not to point out the obvious, but don't you two have to share a room anyway? Purdue, why don't you just take it when his back is turned?
/whole table bursts into laughter/
Purdue: So not cool dude.
Indiana: Hey Nebraska. I like your jacket. It's the same color as mine. Can we be friends?
Nebraska: /awkwardly/ Uhhhhh.... Sure.... But... well.... you know.... Coach Delany kinda has me practicing with these guys. Soo we might not be able to hang out much after school. You know how it is.
Indiana: /dejectedly/ Oh sure.
Wisconsin: What about you and me Nebraska? You wanna go hang out?
Nebraska: Dude, you're really creeping me out. Stop looking at me that way.
Wisconsin: Come on. You know it'd be fun. We both like the color red. We both like to fry and eat foods that would kill a normal human being. We should totally be rivals. You know you want to. Maybe we could experiment. See what it's like.
Wisconsin: Fine. But think about. /winks/
Iowa: Did someone say fried food?
Ohio St.: Alright, I'll see you losers later. Wisconsin, let's go we've got basketball practice. Sweet 16 baby! Wooo!
Wisconsin: /still staring at Nebraska/ Whu.. Oh yeah. /gets up, doesn't take gaze off Nebraska/
Ohio St.: Hey Michigan, tell Jalen we said hi from the Sweet 16.
Michigan: Ass. By the way, watch out for those SEC guys. They just found out just how intelligible you really were during the Sugar Bowl.
Ohio St.: /visibly shaken by mention of SEC/ Wait... What? How'd they find out?
Michigan: I told them. /smiles/
Ohio St.: You son of a bit....
Wisconsin: Dude! we've got practice.
Ohio St.: I'll remember this.
Michigan: Write it down. Take a picture, I don't give a FFFFuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhcccccc! But keep in mind, while I'm quoting Friday, the SEC'll be acting out Shawshank Redemption on you if they get the chance.
Ohio St.: This isn't over... /walks away looking over shoulder every ten steps/
Northwestern: Anyone going to tell them that their basketball season has been over for a week?
Illinois: Fuck no. Let them find out on their own.
Purdue/Indiana: So, Nebraska, what was it like in the Big XII?
Nebraska: It was awesome. I always won my division. I always went to bowl games. I was the best they had to offer.
Iowa: Uh huh. Tell me... how many Big XII championships did you win?
Nebraska: Well I won the North Division six times!
Iowa: No. How many Big XII Championships did you win?
Nebraska: um... two.
Iowa: And how many in the last ten years?
Iowa: I'm sorry, what?
Nebraska: I hate you already. I am so going to kick your ass after Thanksgiving.
Iowa: Bring it bitch.
Indiana: Later guys! Time for gym.
Purdue: Yeah. I've got social studies now.
Northwestern: /under his breath/ This ought to be good.
Michigan: See you guys later.
/As Purdana fight and stumble their way toward the exit, Michigan throws Penn St.'s walker across the room, and Northwestern trips Iowa into the waiting arms of Iowa State's motorized wheelchair. Nebraska sits there stunned at what he/she/its gotten himself/herself/itself into. Just another day a CFHS./
Iowa St.: /crackle/ HEY CUZ! I GUESS IT IS MY BIRTHDAY AFTER ALL! HA HA HA HA HA! /squak/