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Ridiculous, Insane Death and Bloodshed
By Simon Vishnu
PKL Poulsbo Field Office

June 23rd, 2007
Aldo Freda Field, Olneyville

Death Squad vs
Cunning, Baffling, Powerful

less like players, more like warriors

The Death Squad have not been shy about their intentions. Yes, they've been practicing, and they don't care if you know it. Once a shamed exercise, 2007 is the year that many teams have gone above-board with their infield drills. I mean, hell: even the Stilettos are practicing. And it's working for the Death Squad. This year they're tough if not transparent -- all of their weapons have been on full display at the very public 'Green Room' scrimmages of Hope High.

Or have they?

There were rumors. Rumors of a secret weapon weapon being developed at some undisclosed blacksite location. Rumors that the Death Squad had a skunkworks.

Enter: Cunning, Baffling Powerful. Not content to be the favorite, they added a theatrical conceit that opened up old high school wounds. It was the burnouts making fun of the goth kids all over again, with an oversized Hot Topic Gift Certificate. (Ouch!!! Right in the Stabbing Westward tee.) But the Death Squad had traded in their cheap nihilism for the courage to be caught trying.
It was time for the game to begin. But then--! What was this emerging from behind the camo netting? The scuttlebutt was true! It was Dagger Lee, the Death Scout!!! The infamous Dagger Lee, who would just as soon shiv you as look at you, had been secretly trained in "robust interrogation techniques." In Dick Cheney's third administration, Boy Scouts are taught unspeakable things to earn their Knot-Tying Merit Badge.

The game was a frag zone. It was a sea-shanty, a negro spiritual, a Bob Dylan song. CBP lumbered with jack-boots. The Death Squad changed clips, and elbow crawled. It was a close game, but CBP doesn't really look at the scoreboard much when they're winning. Then it happened.

That was when Cunning, Baffling, Powerful, in their pride and their lust for power, fell victim to One of the Classic Blunders -- they got burnt deep, when a game was on the line. Death Squadie Scott boomed a two-run homer, and suddenly, CBP was behind their own eightball. Somehow, the Baffling was the Baffled. The score was 6-3.

The crowd was wild. Given the choice between date rapists and puppy killers, they figured the puppies must have had it coming. It went like this, stab-wound, groin-pull, and gut-shot, for days on end. Finally extra innings demanded that someone do something profound: John Jacobson put one of CBP's signature moves to use. It's based on Batman's vibrating palm strike, and it goes like this: you funnel the delirium tremens of _x_ number years of sobriety into your LEG. The result? Centerfielder, you better hot foot it backwards. Too late.
CBP: 11
The Death Squad: 9

The Kings of Kickball vs
Return of the Zomboree

george romero directs a monty python skit

Sir Lanksalot raised his chalice.
"I propose a toast."

     "A TOAST!" All the other knights cheered.

"Yes, I propose a toast...TO US!"

"To US!" the royalty echoed.

"For WE....are the KINGS! The kings...of KICKBALL!!!"

     "Huzzahhh!" A dozen goblets were hoisted. Turkey drumsticks were waved. Wine and mead dribbled down the chins of Kickball Royalty.

"Let us have another toast," Lady Jenna fanned herself demurely. King Wing nodded, indeed! Let us.

An aged king rose from the far end of the hall, and jerkily raised a goblet.

"Nga ...mooAST." The speech from his ashen lips was labored.

King Julius adjusted his toga, and projected:
"Once more, Sir, that we may hear you!"

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