Post by terrymarshall on Nov 23, 2022 16:39:11 GMT -5
Stardate: 20221124
Marshall raises his glass of red wine because that is what fancy people who rent Perkins do. Everyone raises their glasses back to Marshall, rather it is wine, water, or Coke.
I want to thank all of you for joining my family and I for Thanksgiving. You could have been anywhere else today, but you chose to be here with us, and that means a lot. I appreciate people who stick with you through thick and thin, and you have all been with me through the good times and the bad. So just know, I'm thankful for all of you dudes.
There is a round of applause followed by everyone taking a drink. The feasting gets underway and after polishing off a half dozen deviled eggs, two rounds of main courses, and three slices of pie Marshall is stuffed and ready for a nap. Marshall is slumped over in a booth wishing he could throw up or take a giant dump, whichever would relieve the pressure on his stomach when Space Lord slides into the booth across from him.
Are you bulking up for your next OCW match?
Marshall pats his stomach and it echos like a bass drum.
Yeah, brother, I guess you could say that.
Good, the extra weight will make it harder for the other contestants to throw you over the top rope. Smart strategy increasing your gravitational hold.
Marshall groans as he struggles to sit up, even when holding onto the table and the back of the booth to pull himself up. Marshall gets to a seated position and looks at Space Lord with a confused look.
Brother, what are you talking about? Zybala hasn’t even gotten around to booking the next round of the MWMTTT.
I’m talking about Rumble in the Bronx.
No not Outsiders Championship Wrestling, THE OCW! I entered you into the Rumble in the Bronx.
Marshall takes an over-exaggerated gulp and shakes his head from side to side. Marshall tries to turn around to look at Space Lord, but his belly is too expanded to fully turn and he gets stuck at a 90-degree angle.
Brother, why didn’t you tell me that? I haven’t been training for a rumble match, and I certainly wouldn’t have pigged out like ACF at an all-you-can-eat human flesh buffet.
Relax Terry, bulking up is good for a rumble, plus I’ve got us scheduled for a Turkey Bowl game tonight.
TURKEY BOWL!?! Brother, you got to let me know about these things, it’s our Thanksgiving tradition to put up the Christmas tree and watch Christmas Vacation.
Terry, there will be time for hanging your balls and stuffing Mrs. Marshall’s stocking with your nog.
Brother, that sounds a bit risque.
No risk at all, it’s a two-hand touch game.
Space Lord stands up, and grabs Terry Marshall by the arm. With some pulling and grunting Space Lord is able to free Marshall from the booth. As Marshall holds his sides and tries catching his breath his wife approaches holding a yellow and red jersey.
Terry, Space Lord here told me about your big game and big match. I wish I could come to watch your game tonight.
Marshall takes the jersey from his wife and looks at the number 24 on the front, the size of his massive arms when measured in inches, or the length of Scott Syen’s weiner, when measured in millimeters, (24mm = 0.94in). Hey, I’m no pecker checker but the OCW arena and TPW Thunderdome had communal showers, and the man was proud of what he was given for some reason. Then again, maybe he uses such big words to compensate for the size of his phallus (now that’s a $10 word for “Mr. Bits” if I’ve ever heard one).
Wait, why can’t you come to the game?
Because the game is in New York.
NEW YORK CITY!
Space Lord slaps Marshall on the shoulder and laughs.
Brother, are you saying what I think you’re saying?
Boom, score another point for setting. How did Marshall, Space Lord, and the Desolator Crew get to MetLife stadium so quickly you ask, duh, they have a starship. Terry Marshall, Space Lord, Major Helmet, Sargeant Spot, and the newest member of the crew Lieutenant Liver are ready to take the field in their red and yellow jerseys.
The other members of the crew are on the sidelines as substitutes, except for Private Bug Girl who has been designated a cheerleader by Space Lord. Bug Girl wanted to play, but Space Lord said something about Tom Brady being the only lady to ever play in the NFL, and her giving her team too much of an advantage.
Their opponents for what I'm assuming is the first-ever OCW Turkey Bowl, from the town where they make Duff Beer and your mother's boyfriend, the Duffalo Dildos. The Duffalo Dildos are led by quarterback Zuck MyBallas, with the long-lost Duke boy named after the mall gland in the lymphatic system that makes and trains special white blood cells called T-cells, Thymus. Joining these two jay-brones is the love child of Matt Knox and Johnny Knoxville, Matt Knoxville. Grape Crush, the worst of all grape sodas, and their final starter Extra-Extra-Large Bifford T. Pusser.
The Duffalo Dildos are not without their cheerleaders either. DaAnal Watts and Lice Night have got off of their knees from in front of PIC and grabbed some pom poms. Sahara was supposed to be there but forgot or just didn’t know what people were talking about when they asked her to be a cheerleader.
The crowd is firmly behind team S.E.X, but the drunk ones in the cheap seats seem to be behind the Dildo’s. Those fans calling themselves the Dildo Mafia had been jumping through flaming tables all day in the parking lot.
The Dildos win the toss and defer to the second half. After a fair catch by Helmet, Marshall opens up with a quick slant pass to Space Lord for an eight-yard gain. Second and two, Marshall pitches the ball out to Lieutenant Liver who is quick around the corner. Sargent Spot throws a nice block on Matt Knoxville before Liver simply outruns Myballa and Thymus Duke for a seventy-two-yard touchdown.
LIVER IS KING!
The Duffalo Dildos are more butt-hurt than Sahara after a loss. Out of anger, and stupidity Grape Crush brings the kickoff out of the endzone, and is tapped down by Lieutenant Liver at the sixteen. Liver is feeling quite primal when Bifford T. Pusser steps on Livers barefoot.
Liver lives by the primal ancestral tenants, and as such is barefoot so he can stay grounded into the Earth. Unfortunately for Liver, this means he has no protection against the gargantuan girth of Bifford, and his foot is shattered.
Space Lord is enraged, and has to be held back by Terry Marshall as Space Lord is ready to unleash the Big Bang on Bifford. "Brother, you got to calm down. I know you’re angry, and I don’t blame you. I’ve wanted to slam that male Big Bertha since I laid eyes on him, but we’ll get thrown out if I do. Be smart here brother”, Marshall says as he holds his partner back.
Space Lord enhances his calm, and calls for First Mate Kirk to come out of the stands and out of retirement, the poor man is 91 after all. Look, it’s either this 91-year-old or Private Pizza, and which would you rather have an old man who is in the hall of fame for a kayfabe wrestling company, or a fat half-man, half-pizza with no legs?
In the next play, Zuck MyBallas is at quarterback and drops back throwing a deep bomb to Matt Knoxville who easily runs right past First Mate Kirk for a touchdown. The next series for Team S.E.X starts with another fair catch by Helmet, and Marshall moves the Desolator Crew down the field by chipping away with a West Coast style offense. Eventually, Marshall has his team at first and goal from the ten. Marshall drops back, checks down, and finds First Mate Kirk on a crossing route.
Kirk catches the ball but is immediately nailed with a hard shoulder block from Grape Crush, which sends Kirk to the ground hard and fumbles the ball. Thymus Duke, always the ball hawk, dives face-first onto the ball as if taking balls to the face was second nature to him, but he recovers the fumble. . The referee throws the flag, but the damage is done. First Mate Kirk has to be stretchered off of the field.
The rest of the first half continues poorly for the Sports Entertainment Xpress and Desolator Crew. Turns out a giant, half-man, half-pizza with no legs is worse than a ninety-one-year-old man. With a depleted roster and more underhanded tactics, the Duffalo Dildos are able to score two more times making the game 21-7.
Near the end of the second half, Marshall is stringing together a good drive and closing in on the red zone. Marshall drops back and cannot find an open receiver in the very official 5-Mississippi count that is used before you can rush the quarterback. Thymus breaks off of Sargent Spot and begins blitzing Marshall, but Marshall easily stiff arms Thymus, and his little boy's body to the ground. As Marshall stiff arms Thymus, Bifford T. Pusser hits Marshall from behind with a full-on tackle and falls on top of Marshall, a move that would have crushed anyone else who didn’t have a power belly like Marshall.
Flags begin to fly, and Bifford comes up laughing as Marshall rolls on the ground in pain. Space Lord has had enough, and as Bifford gets up Space Lord nails Bifford T. Pusser with the Big Bang (spear). Bifford goes down hard, and more flags begin to fly. Both Space Lord and Bifford are ejected from the game. Marshall is helped up by the Desolator Crew and the half comes to an end.
In the locker room at half-time, the Desolator Crew are quite dejected. The crew members are sitting in their lockers and complaining about various aspects of the game, and wondering how they will fill the roster for the second half. Space Lord is pacing back and forth, slamming his fist into the walls, and throwing trashcans and furniture. Marshall sits silent and alone in the corner. Marshall can hear their voices and each individual complaint. Marshall feels the crushing weight that comes with leadership, and it’s even more crushing than the weight of Bifford laying on top of him.
Marshall has had enough, and slowly stands to his feet. Marshall walks to the middle of the locker room and with a booming voice commands the attention of everyone in the room.
LISTEN UP, DUDES!!!
“Ooooh, I bet he is going to monologue isn’t he”, Bug Girl says quietly as she leans in close to Space Lord. Space Lord crosses his arms and smiles as he stares at Marshall. “He sure is, and he’ll monologue like no other man can”.
Monologue:
Listen, dudes, right now I’m down, but brother I’m not out. If people at home haven’t realized yet this game is just symbolism for the rumble this weekend. No one is picking old Thundering Terry Marshall to win this rumble, but brothers I’m rumblin while the others are bumblin and stumblin. Right now we are down, but brothers we aren’t out. I’ve been beating the odds since I stepped foot into a wrestling ring. I wasn’t expected to make it past the opening round of the Warriors of the Ring tournament, but I made it to the semi-finals. No one thought Space Lord and I would win the GCWA tag team titles, but we did. No one thought I’d beat Alice’s Knights in the MWMTT but I did. Now, no one thinks I’ll win the Rumble in the Bronx, but believe me, dude, I WILL!
Just as I feasted on beans, greens, potatoes, tomatoes lamb, ram, hogs, hogs, chicken, turkeys, and rabbit, YOU NAME IT!!!!!! But come Sunday I’m going to be feasting on Thaddeus Duke, Dylan Thomas, Scott Syren, ACF, Ehud, and Jack Sullivan, JUST NAME UM! They get in the way of Terry Marshall winning the rumble and they are going to be THUNDER STRUCK!
It’s been too darn long since Terry Marshall has held singles gold, and people are sleeping on me in this rumble, just like they are sleeping on us in this game. It’s time I wake those sleepers up, and show them I’m not some walk through la la land, but I’m their worst nightmare. An old man in the twilight of his career with nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
I’ve been to the top of the mountain before, shoot I was the mountain, and now it is time for me to get back there. I’ll keep climbing, and I'll keep pushing like I’m Sisyphus. See dudes, Sisyphus was a king from Greek Mythology, who was punished by Zeus to roll a boulder up a hill in the depths of Hades for all eternity. I’ve been waiting for someone to say, “oh you’re making another comeback”, no brother, I never left. Some people just don’t understand, and they just don’t get it. I’ve been in this sport for over thirty years and I ain’t done with it yet brother. At my age winning Rumble in the Bronx might seem like that's an unwinnable battle, but really to me, it's not about winning it.
It's the battle itself. It's the struggle! It's the test of myself, that's what life's about. Not just physically but mentally, getting that rock to the top of the mountain. My goal actually is pushing the rock, because pushing the rock isn't a punishment to me. To me that makes me harder mentally and physically. It gives me much more than I give it. I want to struggle. I want to have to claw and scratch to the top. I want to dig in and I want a push, and I don't want it to end. I’ve been to the top of the mountain and I rested and enjoyed the view, but now I’m back to climb again. When and if I ever get the rock to the top of the mountain again, I’ll push it back down myself, because life is about the pursuit of the mountain top, and I’ll never stop reaching for it.
I don’t want to rest, and I don't want to coast. Never again do I want to reach a point in my life, where I say, “that's it, I've done enough, I'm not going give any more. I’m not going push anymore.”. That day will never come, I’ll never stop pushing in this sport, and I will never let this sport stop pushing me.
SO LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE DUDES!!!
The Desolator Crew screams with a collecting “YEAH!”, and they all begin to rush out of the locker room and take the field, except for Space Lord and Bug Girl, since Space Lord was ejected from the game and Bug Girl isn’t exactly excited about going back to cheering.
Private Bug Girl, relieve your captain of his jersey.
“What? But, why? I don’t understand.”, Bug Girl answers with a clear look of confusion.
Because you’re going in as our fifth player.
Song 2 by Blur begins playing over the MetLife stadium PA and the crowd erupts with cheers as the Desolator Crew takes the field for the second half. Bifford has been replaced on the Dildo’s squad by Jack Mehoff-Sullivan, and Robert Uterus starts the second half over Grape Crush. Jack Mehoff-Sullivan receives the kickoff and like a confused idiot, because they clearly are a confused idiot if they think they’re marching in here and winning RITB, Jack Mehoff-Sullivan brings the ball out of the endzone and Bug Girl lays the hit stick on Jack. Jack Mehoff-Sullivan loses the ball, much like they have lost the plot, and Marshall is there to scoop it up and carry it into the endzone for a touchdown bringing the game to 14-21.
The game is hard-fought from here on out, with neither team being able to get a clear-cut advantage. With twenty-nine seconds left in the game, Marshall and the Desolator Crew are at the nineteen-yard line, fourth, and four. Marshall had the team in the huddle.
Alright, it’s now or never. No one thought we’d make it this far. There are twenty-nine seconds left standing in our way to victory.
Major Helmet raises his hand.
Yes Helmet?
I know this game symbolizes the Rumble in the Bronx, and we as a team symbolize you as a competitor in the rumble, so are the twenty-nine seconds a metaphor for the other twenty-nine people in the rumble?
Exactly Helmet.
How do you know there are thirty people total in the rumble?
Because rumbles always have thirty entrants, everyone knows that. But, back to what I was saying, only twenty-nine stand in our way to victory. I didn’t come this far to lose. I’m too darn tired and sore for this to have been for nothing. These guys standing in our way are all tough, but none of them want the win as badly as us. So, let’s show these dudes, and show the world that we didn’t retire, we just had a metamorphosis.
Marshall draws a play out in the dirt and the huddle breaks. Marshall takes the ball, but cannot find an open receiver before the 5-Mississippi count and Robert Uterus comes on a blitz. Marshall sees it coming and spins out of the way, with Uterus only getting one hand on him. Marshall scrambles to his left and throws across his boy to find Bug Girl in the endzone for a touchdown as time runs out.
With the time running out and the score 21-20 Marshall and The Desolator Crew have the option of kicking the field goal to tie the game up, or going for two and the win. As they huddle up, Marshall again speaks metaphorically.
Guys, we didn’t come this far to not give it all. I'm here to leave it all on the field. I say we go for the win right here, right now. I’m not half-buttocking this thing, and I’d rather go out on my sword, giving it all that I’ve got than play for a tie. I’m in it to win it, and nothing is going to stop me. Let’s show these dudes what it is to be thunderstruck.
Everyone nods their head as Marshall draws up the play. Marshall drops back and Bug Girl comes around for reverse. Marshall hands the ball to Bug Girl and she goes around the end. The Dildos close in on Bug Girl all rushing at her, and she stops running. Bug Girl stops, plants her feet, and passes the ball, floating it over the Dildos with a perfect Fleaflicker pay.
Marshall has snuck into the endzone and catches the ball perfectly for the two-point conversion.
21-22
THE DESOLATOR CREW WINS!
~Fin
Terry Marshall stands at the front of a rented-out Perkins, because there are too many people at this Thanksgiving feast, and because a rented-out Perkins seems more creative than Marshall's house and we need those points for setting. Marshall stands at the front of the room overlooking his friends, family, the Starship Desolator Crew, and his B.F.F Space Lord.
Marshall raises his glass of red wine because that is what fancy people who rent Perkins do. Everyone raises their glasses back to Marshall, rather it is wine, water, or Coke.
I want to thank all of you for joining my family and I for Thanksgiving. You could have been anywhere else today, but you chose to be here with us, and that means a lot. I appreciate people who stick with you through thick and thin, and you have all been with me through the good times and the bad. So just know, I'm thankful for all of you dudes.
There is a round of applause followed by everyone taking a drink. The feasting gets underway and after polishing off a half dozen deviled eggs, two rounds of main courses, and three slices of pie Marshall is stuffed and ready for a nap. Marshall is slumped over in a booth wishing he could throw up or take a giant dump, whichever would relieve the pressure on his stomach when Space Lord slides into the booth across from him.
Are you bulking up for your next OCW match?
Marshall pats his stomach and it echos like a bass drum.
Yeah, brother, I guess you could say that.
Good, the extra weight will make it harder for the other contestants to throw you over the top rope. Smart strategy increasing your gravitational hold.
Marshall groans as he struggles to sit up, even when holding onto the table and the back of the booth to pull himself up. Marshall gets to a seated position and looks at Space Lord with a confused look.
Brother, what are you talking about? Zybala hasn’t even gotten around to booking the next round of the MWMTTT.
I’m talking about Rumble in the Bronx.
Brother, why do I feel like you aren’t talking about the movie that brought Jackie Chan to fame in the US in ninety-six?
No not Outsiders Championship Wrestling, THE OCW! I entered you into the Rumble in the Bronx.
Marshall takes an over-exaggerated gulp and shakes his head from side to side. Marshall tries to turn around to look at Space Lord, but his belly is too expanded to fully turn and he gets stuck at a 90-degree angle.
Brother, why didn’t you tell me that? I haven’t been training for a rumble match, and I certainly wouldn’t have pigged out like ACF at an all-you-can-eat human flesh buffet.
Relax Terry, bulking up is good for a rumble, plus I’ve got us scheduled for a Turkey Bowl game tonight.
TURKEY BOWL!?! Brother, you got to let me know about these things, it’s our Thanksgiving tradition to put up the Christmas tree and watch Christmas Vacation.
Terry, there will be time for hanging your balls and stuffing Mrs. Marshall’s stocking with your nog.
Brother, that sounds a bit risque.
No risk at all, it’s a two-hand touch game.
Space Lord stands up, and grabs Terry Marshall by the arm. With some pulling and grunting Space Lord is able to free Marshall from the booth. As Marshall holds his sides and tries catching his breath his wife approaches holding a yellow and red jersey.
Terry, Space Lord here told me about your big game and big match. I wish I could come to watch your game tonight.
Marshall takes the jersey from his wife and looks at the number 24 on the front, the size of his massive arms when measured in inches, or the length of Scott Syen’s weiner, when measured in millimeters, (24mm = 0.94in). Hey, I’m no pecker checker but the OCW arena and TPW Thunderdome had communal showers, and the man was proud of what he was given for some reason. Then again, maybe he uses such big words to compensate for the size of his phallus (now that’s a $10 word for “Mr. Bits” if I’ve ever heard one).
Wait, why can’t you come to the game?
Because the game is in New York.
NEW YORK CITY!
Space Lord slaps Marshall on the shoulder and laughs.
HAHA, Terry, this isn’t an old Pace salsa commercial, and technically the game is in New Jersey, not New York.
Brother, are you saying what I think you’re saying?
METLIFE STADIUM!!!!
Boom, score another point for setting. How did Marshall, Space Lord, and the Desolator Crew get to MetLife stadium so quickly you ask, duh, they have a starship. Terry Marshall, Space Lord, Major Helmet, Sargeant Spot, and the newest member of the crew Lieutenant Liver are ready to take the field in their red and yellow jerseys.
The other members of the crew are on the sidelines as substitutes, except for Private Bug Girl who has been designated a cheerleader by Space Lord. Bug Girl wanted to play, but Space Lord said something about Tom Brady being the only lady to ever play in the NFL, and her giving her team too much of an advantage.
Their opponents for what I'm assuming is the first-ever OCW Turkey Bowl, from the town where they make Duff Beer and your mother's boyfriend, the Duffalo Dildos. The Duffalo Dildos are led by quarterback Zuck MyBallas, with the long-lost Duke boy named after the mall gland in the lymphatic system that makes and trains special white blood cells called T-cells, Thymus. Joining these two jay-brones is the love child of Matt Knox and Johnny Knoxville, Matt Knoxville. Grape Crush, the worst of all grape sodas, and their final starter Extra-Extra-Large Bifford T. Pusser.
The Duffalo Dildos are not without their cheerleaders either. DaAnal Watts and Lice Night have got off of their knees from in front of PIC and grabbed some pom poms. Sahara was supposed to be there but forgot or just didn’t know what people were talking about when they asked her to be a cheerleader.
The crowd is firmly behind team S.E.X, but the drunk ones in the cheap seats seem to be behind the Dildo’s. Those fans calling themselves the Dildo Mafia had been jumping through flaming tables all day in the parking lot.
The Dildos win the toss and defer to the second half. After a fair catch by Helmet, Marshall opens up with a quick slant pass to Space Lord for an eight-yard gain. Second and two, Marshall pitches the ball out to Lieutenant Liver who is quick around the corner. Sargent Spot throws a nice block on Matt Knoxville before Liver simply outruns Myballa and Thymus Duke for a seventy-two-yard touchdown.
The Duffalo Dildos are more butt-hurt than Sahara after a loss. Out of anger, and stupidity Grape Crush brings the kickoff out of the endzone, and is tapped down by Lieutenant Liver at the sixteen. Liver is feeling quite primal when Bifford T. Pusser steps on Livers barefoot.
Liver lives by the primal ancestral tenants, and as such is barefoot so he can stay grounded into the Earth. Unfortunately for Liver, this means he has no protection against the gargantuan girth of Bifford, and his foot is shattered.
Space Lord is enraged, and has to be held back by Terry Marshall as Space Lord is ready to unleash the Big Bang on Bifford. "Brother, you got to calm down. I know you’re angry, and I don’t blame you. I’ve wanted to slam that male Big Bertha since I laid eyes on him, but we’ll get thrown out if I do. Be smart here brother”, Marshall says as he holds his partner back.
Space Lord enhances his calm, and calls for First Mate Kirk to come out of the stands and out of retirement, the poor man is 91 after all. Look, it’s either this 91-year-old or Private Pizza, and which would you rather have an old man who is in the hall of fame for a kayfabe wrestling company, or a fat half-man, half-pizza with no legs?
In the next play, Zuck MyBallas is at quarterback and drops back throwing a deep bomb to Matt Knoxville who easily runs right past First Mate Kirk for a touchdown. The next series for Team S.E.X starts with another fair catch by Helmet, and Marshall moves the Desolator Crew down the field by chipping away with a West Coast style offense. Eventually, Marshall has his team at first and goal from the ten. Marshall drops back, checks down, and finds First Mate Kirk on a crossing route.
Kirk catches the ball but is immediately nailed with a hard shoulder block from Grape Crush, which sends Kirk to the ground hard and fumbles the ball. Thymus Duke, always the ball hawk, dives face-first onto the ball as if taking balls to the face was second nature to him, but he recovers the fumble. . The referee throws the flag, but the damage is done. First Mate Kirk has to be stretchered off of the field.
The rest of the first half continues poorly for the Sports Entertainment Xpress and Desolator Crew. Turns out a giant, half-man, half-pizza with no legs is worse than a ninety-one-year-old man. With a depleted roster and more underhanded tactics, the Duffalo Dildos are able to score two more times making the game 21-7.
Near the end of the second half, Marshall is stringing together a good drive and closing in on the red zone. Marshall drops back and cannot find an open receiver in the very official 5-Mississippi count that is used before you can rush the quarterback. Thymus breaks off of Sargent Spot and begins blitzing Marshall, but Marshall easily stiff arms Thymus, and his little boy's body to the ground. As Marshall stiff arms Thymus, Bifford T. Pusser hits Marshall from behind with a full-on tackle and falls on top of Marshall, a move that would have crushed anyone else who didn’t have a power belly like Marshall.
Flags begin to fly, and Bifford comes up laughing as Marshall rolls on the ground in pain. Space Lord has had enough, and as Bifford gets up Space Lord nails Bifford T. Pusser with the Big Bang (spear). Bifford goes down hard, and more flags begin to fly. Both Space Lord and Bifford are ejected from the game. Marshall is helped up by the Desolator Crew and the half comes to an end.
In the locker room at half-time, the Desolator Crew are quite dejected. The crew members are sitting in their lockers and complaining about various aspects of the game, and wondering how they will fill the roster for the second half. Space Lord is pacing back and forth, slamming his fist into the walls, and throwing trashcans and furniture. Marshall sits silent and alone in the corner. Marshall can hear their voices and each individual complaint. Marshall feels the crushing weight that comes with leadership, and it’s even more crushing than the weight of Bifford laying on top of him.
Marshall has had enough, and slowly stands to his feet. Marshall walks to the middle of the locker room and with a booming voice commands the attention of everyone in the room.
LISTEN UP, DUDES!!!
“Ooooh, I bet he is going to monologue isn’t he”, Bug Girl says quietly as she leans in close to Space Lord. Space Lord crosses his arms and smiles as he stares at Marshall. “He sure is, and he’ll monologue like no other man can”.
Monologue:
Listen, dudes, right now I’m down, but brother I’m not out. If people at home haven’t realized yet this game is just symbolism for the rumble this weekend. No one is picking old Thundering Terry Marshall to win this rumble, but brothers I’m rumblin while the others are bumblin and stumblin. Right now we are down, but brothers we aren’t out. I’ve been beating the odds since I stepped foot into a wrestling ring. I wasn’t expected to make it past the opening round of the Warriors of the Ring tournament, but I made it to the semi-finals. No one thought Space Lord and I would win the GCWA tag team titles, but we did. No one thought I’d beat Alice’s Knights in the MWMTT but I did. Now, no one thinks I’ll win the Rumble in the Bronx, but believe me, dude, I WILL!
Just as I feasted on beans, greens, potatoes, tomatoes lamb, ram, hogs, hogs, chicken, turkeys, and rabbit, YOU NAME IT!!!!!! But come Sunday I’m going to be feasting on Thaddeus Duke, Dylan Thomas, Scott Syren, ACF, Ehud, and Jack Sullivan, JUST NAME UM! They get in the way of Terry Marshall winning the rumble and they are going to be THUNDER STRUCK!
It’s been too darn long since Terry Marshall has held singles gold, and people are sleeping on me in this rumble, just like they are sleeping on us in this game. It’s time I wake those sleepers up, and show them I’m not some walk through la la land, but I’m their worst nightmare. An old man in the twilight of his career with nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
I’ve been to the top of the mountain before, shoot I was the mountain, and now it is time for me to get back there. I’ll keep climbing, and I'll keep pushing like I’m Sisyphus. See dudes, Sisyphus was a king from Greek Mythology, who was punished by Zeus to roll a boulder up a hill in the depths of Hades for all eternity. I’ve been waiting for someone to say, “oh you’re making another comeback”, no brother, I never left. Some people just don’t understand, and they just don’t get it. I’ve been in this sport for over thirty years and I ain’t done with it yet brother. At my age winning Rumble in the Bronx might seem like that's an unwinnable battle, but really to me, it's not about winning it.
It's the battle itself. It's the struggle! It's the test of myself, that's what life's about. Not just physically but mentally, getting that rock to the top of the mountain. My goal actually is pushing the rock, because pushing the rock isn't a punishment to me. To me that makes me harder mentally and physically. It gives me much more than I give it. I want to struggle. I want to have to claw and scratch to the top. I want to dig in and I want a push, and I don't want it to end. I’ve been to the top of the mountain and I rested and enjoyed the view, but now I’m back to climb again. When and if I ever get the rock to the top of the mountain again, I’ll push it back down myself, because life is about the pursuit of the mountain top, and I’ll never stop reaching for it.
I don’t want to rest, and I don't want to coast. Never again do I want to reach a point in my life, where I say, “that's it, I've done enough, I'm not going give any more. I’m not going push anymore.”. That day will never come, I’ll never stop pushing in this sport, and I will never let this sport stop pushing me.
SO LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE DUDES!!!
The Desolator Crew screams with a collecting “YEAH!”, and they all begin to rush out of the locker room and take the field, except for Space Lord and Bug Girl, since Space Lord was ejected from the game and Bug Girl isn’t exactly excited about going back to cheering.
Private Bug Girl, relieve your captain of his jersey.
“What? But, why? I don’t understand.”, Bug Girl answers with a clear look of confusion.
Because you’re going in as our fifth player.
Space Lord smiles as he pulls his jersey off and Bug Girl dawns the two sizes too big number 69 S.E.X jersey. 69 symbolizing the number of plates Space Lord ate at the Thanksgiving feast, get your minds out of the gutter your dirty birds.
Song 2 by Blur begins playing over the MetLife stadium PA and the crowd erupts with cheers as the Desolator Crew takes the field for the second half. Bifford has been replaced on the Dildo’s squad by Jack Mehoff-Sullivan, and Robert Uterus starts the second half over Grape Crush. Jack Mehoff-Sullivan receives the kickoff and like a confused idiot, because they clearly are a confused idiot if they think they’re marching in here and winning RITB, Jack Mehoff-Sullivan brings the ball out of the endzone and Bug Girl lays the hit stick on Jack. Jack Mehoff-Sullivan loses the ball, much like they have lost the plot, and Marshall is there to scoop it up and carry it into the endzone for a touchdown bringing the game to 14-21.
The game is hard-fought from here on out, with neither team being able to get a clear-cut advantage. With twenty-nine seconds left in the game, Marshall and the Desolator Crew are at the nineteen-yard line, fourth, and four. Marshall had the team in the huddle.
Alright, it’s now or never. No one thought we’d make it this far. There are twenty-nine seconds left standing in our way to victory.
Major Helmet raises his hand.
Yes Helmet?
I know this game symbolizes the Rumble in the Bronx, and we as a team symbolize you as a competitor in the rumble, so are the twenty-nine seconds a metaphor for the other twenty-nine people in the rumble?
Exactly Helmet.
How do you know there are thirty people total in the rumble?
Because rumbles always have thirty entrants, everyone knows that. But, back to what I was saying, only twenty-nine stand in our way to victory. I didn’t come this far to lose. I’m too darn tired and sore for this to have been for nothing. These guys standing in our way are all tough, but none of them want the win as badly as us. So, let’s show these dudes, and show the world that we didn’t retire, we just had a metamorphosis.
Marshall draws a play out in the dirt and the huddle breaks. Marshall takes the ball, but cannot find an open receiver before the 5-Mississippi count and Robert Uterus comes on a blitz. Marshall sees it coming and spins out of the way, with Uterus only getting one hand on him. Marshall scrambles to his left and throws across his boy to find Bug Girl in the endzone for a touchdown as time runs out.
With the time running out and the score 21-20 Marshall and The Desolator Crew have the option of kicking the field goal to tie the game up, or going for two and the win. As they huddle up, Marshall again speaks metaphorically.
Guys, we didn’t come this far to not give it all. I'm here to leave it all on the field. I say we go for the win right here, right now. I’m not half-buttocking this thing, and I’d rather go out on my sword, giving it all that I’ve got than play for a tie. I’m in it to win it, and nothing is going to stop me. Let’s show these dudes what it is to be thunderstruck.
Everyone nods their head as Marshall draws up the play. Marshall drops back and Bug Girl comes around for reverse. Marshall hands the ball to Bug Girl and she goes around the end. The Dildos close in on Bug Girl all rushing at her, and she stops running. Bug Girl stops, plants her feet, and passes the ball, floating it over the Dildos with a perfect Fleaflicker pay.
Marshall has snuck into the endzone and catches the ball perfectly for the two-point conversion.
21-22
THE DESOLATOR CREW WINS!
TERRY MARSHALL WINS!!!
Marshall rips his jersey off and begins to pose because Marshall must pose.
