Thursday, October 21st 2004 is a day that shall live forever in the hearts and minds of each and every occupant of the 4th apartment at 830 Boysen Ave; On this day, after exactly eighteen thousand, four hundred and sixty nine games, Joel Tiberius Conary LOST a game of foosball for the first time since joining into a rental agreement with his roommate, one Mr. “I Rule Joel Like A Small European Country” Wagner. This will more than likely result in a series of such victories in the near future. The floodgates are open, and Joel’s going to have to hide a lot further away then across the hall to escape the talent that flares upward from my body like flames from a phoenix.
The game in question was an impressive showing on my part. After absolutely, criminally embarrassing Joel for a good portion of the game, the score stood at nine to five, I needed only one point to end his very life. At this point Joel staged a heroic, but pointless, rally that ran the score all the way up to 13-12, when I finally put an end to his misery by establishing the necessary two point lead to declare a victory in my name.
Some will claim that Mr. Conary was having an “off game,” that his “shoulder hurt,” or that he “went temporarily blind.” These people should be viewed exactly as they are: Fascist Nazis trying to crush one red-headed man’s unbounded joy at having so heartily beaten one of the most arrogant, puppy hating demons to have ever played the game.
Joel T. Conary could not be reached for comment.
Posted by Red Scott @ 11:58 am