Hmmm… well, in case it was harmless that scored…YAY! This calls for another beer!
Beer for all!
Yay, swampy!
: dumps a bucket of iced koolaid on swampbear :
preview…nope you got it swampy…Mr. Goob should’ve been touch # 2
Unless we’re strictly enforcing the name rule. :dubious:
Either way, we scored! 
I couldn’t be more confusing if I tried…
Mr. Goob, of course, called it.
I was referring to swampbear’s catch.
Maybe I should sit out for a while, at least until the spots before my eyes clear up. 
I just get too darned excited.
koolaid?!?! I hope it was at least spiked first! 
You think I would waste perfectly good alchoholohol?
:eek::eek::eek:
<reviews the videotape>
kssh After review, the official determination of the play is Sternvogel to Mr. Goob to harmless for the score. kssh
Ok folks, it’s CoB over Team 1, 3-to-1. And harmless, naming rights for Team 1 are yours! What say you?
Oh, and <tweeeeeeeeet!>…Game on!
YAY! harmless! This calls for a beer! And some nachos! Think I’ll go get me some nachos. Y’all play nice now.
Hooray I got an assist!
You know…I was actually sitting in front of the monitor, rubbing my hands together with my tongue sticking halfway out, with an evil grin on my face after I read that.
Mwahahaha wasn’t far behind, either.
I hereby dub us…The Flamin’ Hot Toddies.
Don’t like, you score the first point next time!
Damn you, swampbear!
I want’s nachos too. 
Time for me to head out.
Keep us going, you Flamers!
Very good, FHT it is.
And incidentally, there were just consecutive posts by swampbear, Mr. Goob, and harmless. All of whom are on the same team, and none of whom touched the ball.
No wonder the FHT is getting pounded.
Whoop…new page – time for an update:
Flamin’ Hot Toddies: A B C G H I M N O S T U Y
Chickens of Bristol: D E F J K L P Q R V W X Z
The score is currently CoB: 3, FHT: 1, and the ball is still sitting at midfield.
I’m grabbing the ball at midfield and running…
wheeze
wheeze
Okay, I’ll be heading out shortly, but before I do, I’ll pick up my fungo bat and smack a screaming line drive to…
Okay, let’s put an end to this foolishness. I go to write a paper, and next thing you know. . .
I’ll take that, Sternvogel, and then I’ll duct tape it to a homemade rocket. After launching the thing, it falls from the sky into the hands of. . .
I think I’m the last legal player picking it up from midfield,
wheeze
wheeze
(damn Marlboro’s)
Who want’s it?
Realizing I left my wallet in my locker, I return to the field just in time (I hope) to take the ball from Mr. Goob, affix a J.R. “Bob” Dobbs sticker to it, and fling it to…
INTERCEPTION!!!
…oh wait… were you on my team?
DOHH!!!
… well, I don’t know… maybe we should all wear red scarves or something…
HEY!!!
You’re not on my team! You tried to trick me!
:: Returns from massive battle with the Jotar, wearing nothing but an animal skin loin-cloth, sweat and blood still glistening off of muscles ::
takes tha ball from Keapon Laffin, and whacks it with axe into…