A Colquitt County Nightmare

[On2whls]

Once upon a time (er everday) Georgian football deity O Rabid One (El Oro), steadfastly defended Colquitt County and all of Georgia, incessantly issuing acidic diatribes, slandering all that dared challenge the superiority of his team. In particular, El Oro directed his malicious rants towards the peaceful people of CA.  One day, the fearsome Centennial Huskies set forth to the east, compromising strength of schedule, to engage El Oro's warriors and vanquish them forever into obscurity.   As the force approached, the townspeople of Moultrie fearing the unknown, shivered in the cold winds of uncertainty, seeking wisdom and comfort from El Oro.

Fear not good people, the foe that approaches is an overhyped troupe of sissy la la soft boys armed with nothing but a bag of offensive tomfoolery that even the slackest among all Georgia defenses will repel with not so much as a breath wasted.  He delighted the crowd with tales of 100point contests where velvety waif backs and receivers traipsed merrily through pretend defenses guarded by pixies and fairies of all manner and sort.  The defense they claim is the stench of rotting carrion so repulsive, I proclaim them SCENTENNIAL, and the crowd cheered raucously, content in the erudition of El Oro.

As the townsfolk settled into the stadium an unfamiliar (to them) malodorous aura enveloped them.  One after another they rose, certain this was as El Oro predicted, rotten Scentennial defense.  Not one among them knew the olfactory disturbance was unburnt race fuel bellowing from deep inside the high performance engine that is the Cen10 offense, as it idled angrily awaiting kickoff.  From the opening whistle, Cen100 stomped on the pedal and the machine thrust forward careening wildly across the turf.   With no modicum of resistance, the pedal stuck and the Cen1000 offense erupted in a heretofore unknown manner scorching all before it, igniting the scoreboard into a fireball so bright, it was seen across the land.  

The mortified minions of Moultrie unable to comprehend the cataclysmic force that had befallen them, feared the end times were at hand and clamored wildly for the exits.  Miserly Moultrie officials knowing they were powerless to impose retribution upon the penniless paupers declared halftime in despair seeking an emergency session of the GHSA.   Meanwhile, a vengeful El Oro rallied the crowd with chants of Expel the Sorcerers barricading the exit to visitors locker room.

An ultimatum was presented to coach Logan.  Ye'all bestow upon us the wondrous magic of your offense, and ye'all shall claim draw, and shall leave never to return, and we shall forgive you the damage.  An unrelenting Logan refused knowing well the disastrous ramifications of unleashing such power, lest it be used irresponsibly.  Incensed at his insolence, GHSA proclaimed the contest a win by forfeiture, and forever banished all CA teams from setting foot in Georgia except for Vista Murrieta.   For his noble and Ass-iduous efforts, El Oro was knighted, and a magnificent towering citadel was erected where Sir Crab A Lot would stand diligent sentinel evermore with an eye fixed always on the West.  

All was well until one day, Sir Crab A Lot noticed a dismal gray and rumbling approaching from the West.   Each day grew darker and the rumbling grew louder and more frequently until the incessant  roar reverberated in his head causing him to tremble uncontrollably and madness ensued.  Sir Crab a Lot envisioned an armada of busses rumbling unstoppably towards his hallowed hamlet.  Monarchs, Braves, Spartans, Diablos, even Tritons leered menacingly as they rolled past.  Sir Crab paralyzed in fear, unable to warn the townsfolk gave into the force and lay back falling weightlessly into the darkness, until his body was riveted to the core by an apocalyptic thunderclap jarring him to reality.  Shaken and soaked in the perfusion of his own sweat, Rab awoke to the pitter patter of a sweet Georgia rain, emerging into the crisp morning air bolstered by the realization that it was all just a nightmare.   No evil denizens of the West threatened.   Colquitt County thankfully could proceed to the playoffs confident that the forces they would encounter were the usual fodder.  And Rab declared, it's wonderful to be in Georgia!

 

 

 

[Sammyswordsman]

1 hour ago, On2whls said:

Once upon a time (er everday) Georgian football deity O Rabid One (El Oro), steadfastly defended Colquitt County and all of Georgia, incessantly issuing acidic diatribes, slandering all that dared challenge the superiority of his team. In particular, El Oro directed his malicious rants towards the peaceful people of CA.  One day, the fearsome Centennial Huskies set forth to the east, compromising strength of schedule, to engage El Oro's warriors and vanquish them forever into obscurity.   As the force approached, the townspeople of Moultrie fearing the unknown, shivered in the cold winds of uncertainty, seeking wisdom and comfort from El Oro.

Fear not good people, the foe that approaches is an overhyped troupe of sissy la la soft boys armed with nothing but a bag of offensive tomfoolery that even the slackest among all Georgia defenses will repel with not so much as a breath wasted.  He delighted the crowd with tales of 100point contests where velvety waif backs and receivers traipsed merrily through pretend defenses guarded by pixies and fairies of all manner and sort.  The defense they claim is the stench of rotting carrion so repulsive, I proclaim them SCENTENNIAL, and the crowd cheered raucously, content in the erudition of El Oro.

As the townsfolk settled into the stadium an unfamiliar (to them) malodorous aura enveloped them.  One after another they rose, certain this was as El Oro predicted, rotten Scentennial defense.  Not one among them knew the olfactory disturbance was unburnt race fuel bellowing from deep inside the high performance engine that is the Cen10 offense, as it idled angrily awaiting kickoff.  From the opening whistle, Cen100 stomped on the pedal and the machine thrust forward careening wildly across the turf.   With no modicum of resistance, the pedal stuck and the Cen1000 offense erupted in a heretofore unknown manner scorching all before it, igniting the scoreboard into a fireball so bright, it was seen across the land.  

The mortified minions of Moultrie unable to comprehend the cataclysmic force that had befallen them, feared the end times were at hand and clamored wildly for the exits.  Miserly Moultrie officials knowing they were powerless to impose retribution upon the penniless paupers declared halftime in despair seeking an emergency session of the GHSA.   Meanwhile, a vengeful El Oro rallied the crowd with chants of Expel the Sorcerers barricading the exit to visitors locker room.

An ultimatum was presented to coach Logan.  Ye'all bestow upon us the wondrous magic of your offense, and ye'all shall claim draw, and shall leave never to return, and we shall forgive you the damage.  An unrelenting Logan refused knowing well the disastrous ramifications of unleashing such power, lest it be used irresponsibly.  Incensed at his insolence, GHSA proclaimed the contest a win by forfeiture, and forever banished all CA teams from setting foot in Georgia except for Vista Murrieta.   For his noble and Ass-iduous efforts, El Oro was knighted, and a magnificent towering citadel was erected where Sir Crab A Lot would stand diligent sentinel evermore with an eye fixed always on the West.  

All was well until one day, Sir Crab A Lot noticed a dismal gray and rumbling approaching from the West.   Each day grew darker and the rumbling grew louder and more frequently until the incessant  roar reverberated in his head causing him to tremble uncontrollably and madness ensued.  Sir Crab a Lot envisioned an armada of busses rumbling unstoppably towards his hallowed hamlet.  Monarchs, Braves, Spartans, Diablos, even Tritons leered menacingly as they rolled past.  Sir Crab paralyzed in fear, unable to warn the townsfolk gave into the force and lay back falling weightlessly into the darkness, until his body was riveted to the core by an apocalyptic thunderclap jarring him to reality.  Shaken and soaked in the perfusion of his own sweat, Rab awoke to the pitter patter of a sweet Georgia rain, emerging into the crisp morning air bolstered by the realization that it was all just a nightmare.   No evil denizens of the West threatened.   Colquitt County thankfully could proceed to the playoffs confident that the forces they would encounter were the usual fodder.  And Rab declared, it's wonderful to be in Georgia!  And ECHS05 lived happily for the rest of the season.

 

 

 

FIFY

[ORabidOne]

3 hours ago, On2whls said:

Once upon a time (er everday) Georgian football deity O Rabid One (El Oro), steadfastly defended Colquitt County and all of Georgia, incessantly issuing acidic diatribes, slandering all that dared challenge the superiority of his team. In particular, El Oro directed his malicious rants towards the peaceful people of CA.  One day, the fearsome Centennial Huskies set forth to the east, compromising strength of schedule, to engage El Oro's warriors and vanquish them forever into obscurity.   As the force approached, the townspeople of Moultrie fearing the unknown, shivered in the cold winds of uncertainty, seeking wisdom and comfort from El Oro.

Fear not good people, the foe that approaches is an overhyped troupe of sissy la la soft boys armed with nothing but a bag of offensive tomfoolery that even the slackest among all Georgia defenses will repel with not so much as a breath wasted.  He delighted the crowd with tales of 100point contests where velvety waif backs and receivers traipsed merrily through pretend defenses guarded by pixies and fairies of all manner and sort.  The defense they claim is the stench of rotting carrion so repulsive, I proclaim them SCENTENNIAL, and the crowd cheered raucously, content in the erudition of El Oro.

As the townsfolk settled into the stadium an unfamiliar (to them) malodorous aura enveloped them.  One after another they rose, certain this was as El Oro predicted, rotten Scentennial defense.  Not one among them knew the olfactory disturbance was unburnt race fuel bellowing from deep inside the high performance engine that is the Cen10 offense, as it idled angrily awaiting kickoff.  From the opening whistle, Cen100 stomped on the pedal and the machine thrust forward careening wildly across the turf.   With no modicum of resistance, the pedal stuck and the Cen1000 offense erupted in a heretofore unknown manner scorching all before it, igniting the scoreboard into a fireball so bright, it was seen across the land.  

The mortified minions of Moultrie unable to comprehend the cataclysmic force that had befallen them, feared the end times were at hand and clamored wildly for the exits.  Miserly Moultrie officials knowing they were powerless to impose retribution upon the penniless paupers declared halftime in despair seeking an emergency session of the GHSA.   Meanwhile, a vengeful El Oro rallied the crowd with chants of Expel the Sorcerers barricading the exit to visitors locker room.

An ultimatum was presented to coach Logan.  Ye'all bestow upon us the wondrous magic of your offense, and ye'all shall claim draw, and shall leave never to return, and we shall forgive you the damage.  An unrelenting Logan refused knowing well the disastrous ramifications of unleashing such power, lest it be used irresponsibly.  Incensed at his insolence, GHSA proclaimed the contest a win by forfeiture, and forever banished all CA teams from setting foot in Georgia except for Vista Murrieta.   For his noble and Ass-iduous efforts, El Oro was knighted, and a magnificent towering citadel was erected where Sir Crab A Lot would stand diligent sentinel evermore with an eye fixed always on the West.  

All was well until one day, Sir Crab A Lot noticed a dismal gray and rumbling approaching from the West.   Each day grew darker and the rumbling grew louder and more frequently until the incessant  roar reverberated in his head causing him to tremble uncontrollably and madness ensued.  Sir Crab a Lot envisioned an armada of busses rumbling unstoppably towards his hallowed hamlet.  Monarchs, Braves, Spartans, Diablos, even Tritons leered menacingly as they rolled past.  Sir Crab paralyzed in fear, unable to warn the townsfolk gave into the force and lay back falling weightlessly into the darkness, until his body was riveted to the core by an apocalyptic thunderclap jarring him to reality.  Shaken and soaked in the perfusion of his own sweat, Rab awoke to the pitter patter of a sweet Georgia rain, emerging into the crisp morning air bolstered by the realization that it was all just a nightmare.   No evil denizens of the West threatened.   Colquitt County thankfully could proceed to the playoffs confident that the forces they would encounter were the usual fodder.  And Rab declared, it's wonderful to be in Georgia!

 

 

 

THEN, you awoke from your DRUNKEN STUPOR!

[NotBigdaddybloom]

Dilly Dilly

[Rufus69]

You know...I didn't understand three words of that gibberish.  And I graduated 8th grade with honors !!!!

 

 

Rufus>>

[Coletrain06]

Quote

.....where velvety waif backs and receivers traipsed merrily through pretend defenses guarded by pixies and fairies of all manner and sort. 

[LiberalDonaldTrump]

24 minutes ago, NotBigdaddybloom said:

Dilly Dilly