My Big Game Day

[TGI Falwell]

Hi. My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell, and this is my story.

 

I was at the game last Saturday, I tell you true. I was selling hot dogs in the west stadium. I set my hot dog tray on the bottom railing, and it fell right over, just like poop down a shingle. Course, I had to jump over that rail to get my dogs back. And, afore you knew it, I was down there on the field.

 

I was fixing to climb back up that wall, but then this guy yells at me, "hey there, buddy, want to play some ball?" I looked over my shoulder, and there was Coach Cosgrove, grinning at me like a bear in the woods. I nearly pissed myself, I tell you true.

 

I nodded, beings that I couldn't talk; I had this big ole lump in my throat. I couldn't say no, anyways, 'cuz that ole Cosgrove looked like he was about to bust me. He looked crazier than a Cyclone with a winning season.

 

He grabs me and pushes me toward this kid wearing a tuxedo on the sideline. I didn't see that kid earlier, 'cuz it was a red tuxedo. Did you see him? I guess he's always there, on the sidelines. He helps the players get dressed up, and he dressed me up, too. He gave me a football outfit with the number 3 on it.

 

Pretty soon that crazy Cosgrove sumbitch grabs me again and starts hustling me toward the sideline. He pointed at some Kansas feller on the field and told me to go out there and make sure that he didn't go catching no footballs.

 

So that's what I did for the whole third quarter. I followed that Kansas guy all over that darned field, and he didn't catch no footballs, neither.

 

After the game they told me that I had to shower with the team, 'cuz I was stinking something awful, and they wanted to eat some of those dogs, anyways. So I went there and passed out the rest of those dogs.

 

That Ganz kid is crazy strong, don't you know. I saw him rip four doors off of them steel lockers before Coach Callahan calmed him down. Coach said something about some guy named Shatell or something, and ole' Joey just started cussing, but he stopped ripping them doors off.

 

Anyway, I went drinking with those other guys that were chasing those Kansas fellows with me during the game. Fastest humans I ever met, I tell you true. I still can't believe that we outran those cop cars.

 

That was my story, and I hope that you liked it.

 

My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell. How do you like me now?

[sCrUmptious!]

Hi. My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell, and this is my story.

 

I was at the game last Saturday, I tell you true. I was selling hot dogs in the west stadium. I set my hot dog tray on the bottom railing, and it fell right over, just like poop down a shingle. Course, I had to jump over that rail to get my dogs back. And, afore you knew it, I was down there on the field.

 

I was fixing to climb back up that wall, but then this guy yells at me, "hey there, buddy, want to play some ball?" I looked over my shoulder, and there was Coach Cosgrove, grinning at me like a bear in the woods. I nearly pissed myself, I tell you true.

 

I nodded, beings that I couldn't talk; I had this big ole lump in my throat. I couldn't say no, anyways, 'cuz that ole Cosgrove looked like he was about to bust me. He looked crazier than a Cyclone with a winning season.

 

He grabs me and pushes me toward this kid wearing a tuxedo on the sideline. I didn't see that kid earlier, 'cuz it was a red tuxedo. Did you see him? I guess he's always there, on the sidelines. He helps the players get dressed up, and he dressed me up, too. He gave me a football outfit with the number 3 on it.

 

Pretty soon that crazy Cosgrove sumbitch grabs me again and starts hustling me toward the sideline. He pointed at some Kansas feller on the field and told me to go out there and make sure that he didn't go catching no footballs.

 

So that's what I did for the whole third quarter. I followed that Kansas guy all over that darned field, and he didn't catch no footballs, neither.

 

After the game they told me that I had to shower with the team, 'cuz I was stinking something awful, and they wanted to eat some of those dogs, anyways. So I went there and passed out the rest of those dogs.

 

That Ganz kid is crazy strong, don't you know. I saw him rip four doors off of them steel lockers before Coach Callahan calmed him down. Coach said something about some guy named Shatell or something, and ole' Joey just started cussing, but he stopped ripping them doors off.

 

Anyway, I went drinking with those other guys that were chasing those Kansas fellows with me during the game. Fastest humans I ever met, I tell you true. I still can't believe that we outran those cop cars.

 

That was my story, and I hope that you liked it.

 

My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell. How do you like me now?

 

Somebody really enjoyed the literary work of John Kennedy Toole...

[Vuren]

Hi. My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell, and this is my story.

 

I was at the game last Saturday, I tell you true. I was selling hot dogs in the west stadium. I set my hot dog tray on the bottom railing, and it fell right over, just like poop down a shingle. Course, I had to jump over that rail to get my dogs back. And, afore you knew it, I was down there on the field.

 

I was fixing to climb back up that wall, but then this guy yells at me, "hey there, buddy, want to play some ball?" I looked over my shoulder, and there was Coach Cosgrove, grinning at me like a bear in the woods. I nearly pissed myself, I tell you true.

 

I nodded, beings that I couldn't talk; I had this big ole lump in my throat. I couldn't say no, anyways, 'cuz that ole Cosgrove looked like he was about to bust me. He looked crazier than a Cyclone with a winning season.

 

He grabs me and pushes me toward this kid wearing a tuxedo on the sideline. I didn't see that kid earlier, 'cuz it was a red tuxedo. Did you see him? I guess he's always there, on the sidelines. He helps the players get dressed up, and he dressed me up, too. He gave me a football outfit with the number 3 on it.

 

Pretty soon that crazy Cosgrove sumbitch grabs me again and starts hustling me toward the sideline. He pointed at some Kansas feller on the field and told me to go out there and make sure that he didn't go catching no footballs.

 

So that's what I did for the whole third quarter. I followed that Kansas guy all over that darned field, and he didn't catch no footballs, neither.

 

After the game they told me that I had to shower with the team, 'cuz I was stinking something awful, and they wanted to eat some of those dogs, anyways. So I went there and passed out the rest of those dogs.

 

That Ganz kid is crazy strong, don't you know. I saw him rip four doors off of them steel lockers before Coach Callahan calmed him down. Coach said something about some guy named Shatell or something, and ole' Joey just started cussing, but he stopped ripping them doors off.

 

Anyway, I went drinking with those other guys that were chasing those Kansas fellows with me during the game. Fastest humans I ever met, I tell you true. I still can't believe that we outran those cop cars.

 

That was my story, and I hope that you liked it.

 

My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell. How do you like me now?

 

Somebody really enjoyed the literary work of John Kennedy Toole...

confedracy of dunces right?

[TGI Falwell]

Hi. My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell, and this is my story.

 

I was at the game last Saturday, I tell you true. I was selling hot dogs in the west stadium. I set my hot dog tray on the bottom railing, and it fell right over, just like poop down a shingle. Course, I had to jump over that rail to get my dogs back. And, afore you knew it, I was down there on the field.

 

I was fixing to climb back up that wall, but then this guy yells at me, "hey there, buddy, want to play some ball?" I looked over my shoulder, and there was Coach Cosgrove, grinning at me like a bear in the woods. I nearly pissed myself, I tell you true.

 

I nodded, beings that I couldn't talk; I had this big ole lump in my throat. I couldn't say no, anyways, 'cuz that ole Cosgrove looked like he was about to bust me. He looked crazier than a Cyclone with a winning season.

 

He grabs me and pushes me toward this kid wearing a tuxedo on the sideline. I didn't see that kid earlier, 'cuz it was a red tuxedo. Did you see him? I guess he's always there, on the sidelines. He helps the players get dressed up, and he dressed me up, too. He gave me a football outfit with the number 3 on it.

 

Pretty soon that crazy Cosgrove sumbitch grabs me again and starts hustling me toward the sideline. He pointed at some Kansas feller on the field and told me to go out there and make sure that he didn't go catching no footballs.

 

So that's what I did for the whole third quarter. I followed that Kansas guy all over that darned field, and he didn't catch no footballs, neither.

 

After the game they told me that I had to shower with the team, 'cuz I was stinking something awful, and they wanted to eat some of those dogs, anyways. So I went there and passed out the rest of those dogs.

 

That Ganz kid is crazy strong, don't you know. I saw him rip four doors off of them steel lockers before Coach Callahan calmed him down. Coach said something about some guy named Shatell or something, and ole' Joey just started cussing, but he stopped ripping them doors off.

 

Anyway, I went drinking with those other guys that were chasing those Kansas fellows with me during the game. Fastest humans I ever met, I tell you true. I still can't believe that we outran those cop cars.

 

That was my story, and I hope that you liked it.

 

My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell. How do you like me now?

 

Somebody really enjoyed the literary work of John Kennedy Toole...

confedracy of dunces right?

 

I've heard of that Toole fellow. He was one of those confederated dunces or something. My friend Luke (he's the strongest man I've ever known, I tell you true) says that he wrote some book, and that he named a character after me.

 

My name is Trent Geronimo Ignatius Falwell. But you can call me TGIF. Luke does, even when he ain't drinking that apple jack.

[TGI Falwell]

One time--it was when we were driving that old army tank in Legion Park to Brownville--I saw ole Luke run down a deer. It was a big buck with only one rack, and that's why it ran in circles, I suppose, but Luke ran him down and tackled him right by that old church off the highway. It's that old church with the blue bell tower. I'm sure you know the one.

 

Anyway, Luke tore the heart right out of that deer with his bare hands, and he gobbled it down like a piece of fried chicken from the Johnson barbecue. Scared me a little, but then we got back in that tank and drove off.

 

That was some night!

[AR Husker Fan]

Moving to the BS forum.

[TGI Falwell]

What's a bs forum? I just wanted to tell my story, that's all. I hopes I didn't bother nobody none.