Cracker, Please!

Displaced Aggression League Report – Week 7

 And the Goddess spoke, saying;

Drink not the foul brew of empathy. For what use are eyes without bearing witness to your opponent’s spoliation?  What use are ears without the sound of their wailing lamentations?  Drink Ye instead the sweet nectar of victory from the cleaved skulls of the vanquished.

And the team owners, hearing Her words, became like unto beasts of the wilderness, and began to inflict heinous punishments, one upon the other, without ending.

Vendettas 4:21

 

Amen, Brethren. 

Week 7 could have been a turning point for Our Beloved League, what with the results of all five of our matchups projected to fall within a 10-point range.  But the Gridiron Goddess cast her terrible dice – as is her wont — dividing us further into the haves and the have-nots, the hopeful and the damned, those who sip Dom Perignon from crystal flutes and those who guzzle toilet wine in dark corners.

Only two of our matchups could be settled over the weekend; Operating remotely from a polygamatriarchal compound in Utah, Fleurs de Lis unexpectedly pulled off its first win of the season, prompting a Scooby-Doo-“huh?” reaction from Dingo Bros and pushing them down to 2-5.  Closely-ranked Gonk’s Revenge and Mario Bros faced off with identical point projections, but Gonk’s ended up exceeding the Oracle’s expectations and moving to 5-2, while Mario Bros fell to 3-4. 

Monday night was determinative for our other three bouts, with the Duestakers and Mental Garbage struggling to overcome daunting point-deficits of 43 and 38 against the Salukis and Hellfire Club, respectively.  The once-proud Duestakers couldn’t come close and fell to 4-3, while Mental Garbage ended just 7 points short of the mark, winding up at 2-5; all that was left in the wake of these matchups was broken dreams and the smell of burnt hair.

Wackers v. Turduckens ended up being Week 7’s Monday night nailbiter.  The Growlin’ Turds were down by just 2 points at the kickoff, and the unfailingly-dependable Bears defense handed them another 19 before the night was over, carrying the Turds to 6-1 while the Wackers slumped into the 4-3 tier.

It’s worth noting that after several years of good-natured combat, the Wackers are still an enigma to many of us – a franchise shrouded in focking mystery, as Grandpa Stosh would put it.  Their bald owner is a shadowy figure who sports a monocle and crimson cape, and is rumored to stay up late into the night playing the Theremin while improvising darkly erotic poetry for an audience of amatuerly-taxidermied Opossums that he dresses in American Girl outfits and arranges in lewd poses on his kitchen table.  He has achieved notoriety in certain circles as a connoisseur of German pornography, and is widely considered to be the only League member who has the makings of a decent Bond villain. 

But, truth be told, as much as 60% of this may be no more than unfortunate conjecture.  A simple response to the League Manager’s start-of-season survey would have answered all questions and erased all doubts about the Wackers, but it was sadly not to be.

Respectfully Submitted,

League Manager Tom

TomT will be posting under his real name here (at least part of it), in spite of the fact that this site already seems to be crammed-full of Toms. He is a suburban husband and dad doing Union work within public education in the Chicago area. Once in a great while he also posts diaries under the name “Skitters” on Daily Kos, and—during football season—he does his best to chronicle the dark history of a fairly-vicious fantasy league.

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