Friday, July 24, 2020

Virtual Baseball (Where We're Never Shortened by Rain): IDIOTS RUIN GAME!!!

In Virtual Baseball today, the New York Yankees were cruising behind Jordan Montgomery, looking well on their way to sweeping Los Popladores of La Reina—the new/old name the city of Los Angeles and the Angels have reverted to, in order to honor the original, ravaging European interlopers to reach the area—when a running brawl in the stands spilled out onto the playing field, and disrupted the game.

In the course of the fight, Montgomery, trying to play peacemaker, was knocked unconscious, and had to be carried off the field on a stretcher.  Tommy Kahnle, thrown into the game with little time to prepare, was hit hard by Los Popladores, who rallied for an 8-7 win.

Previously, the Yankees had jumped off to a 6-2 lead, on long home runs by Aaron Judge and Clint Frazier, and an opposite-field line drive, by the newly revitalized Giancarlo Stanton.  A win would have cut the lead the TB Rays have on the Yanks to just a single game.

"It was a beautiful game," starlet Scarlett Johansson, a devote Yankees fan, sobbed in her box seat.  "Then all those idiots had to ruin it!"

Subsequent investigations by the new Federal Stadium Force discovered that all of the brawlers had come to the ballpark together, as they belong to a vicious, online hate group, dedicated to mocking comatose Yankees broadcaster John Sterling.

"They seem to all be part of some band of desperadoes," Stadium Force Commander Chad Wolfmanjack told reporters.  "We've dealt with their leaders before, Duquette something, Alfonso XIII, and a Mr. Tom Paisly.  They were involved in a cruel blackmail scheme, concerning the disembodied voice of beloved Yankee, Phil Rizzuto.  They hail from one of those desperate, barely habitable upstate cities, where wolves roam the streets and it's every man for himself.  God only knows what they were trying to accomplish today."

Cdr. Wolfmanjack also thought that the miscreants in question might have ties to antifa.

"They seem to all operate under various aliases.  ALL-CAPS, Doug K., Local Bargain Jerk—he's no bargain, believe me!—LB (sans J), Joe Formerly of Brooklyn, Ken of Brooklyn, BernbabyBern, Beauregard Jackson Pickett Burnside—making fun of our beloved Confederate AND Union war heroes, clearly these people have no respect for anyone or anything—The Hammer of God—that's a terrorist codename if there ever was one—JM, Mustang, 13bit, ranger_lp, several people calling themselves 'Anonymous'—there's no room for anyone to stay anonymous in today's America, son!—Michael Forrest, Unknown, Rufus T. Firefly, Publius, Larry, Jimmy Eats Hot Dogs—I'll bet he does!

"What's more, there seems to be a clear foreign influence here. We could be onto an international conspiracy.  Others apprehended included someone known as 'Urban Farmer,' who seems to have ties to The Netherlands.  There's also 'Der Kaiser,' and a suspect who claims to be 'Austria's Only Baseball Fan,' which is ridiculous, of course.  There are no baseball fans in Austria.  They could never follow a sport without ties."

What started the vicious, terroristic, left-wing fascist brawl has yet to be officially determined, though several members of the cult admitted that it had all begun over who was to claim the prize, in the box of Cracker Jack that several of them had combined their portfolios to buy at the low, low Stadium price of $45.

"All we got were candy-coated popcorn.  And peanuts.  No prize," lamented Mr. Duquette, also known as Harp Sealant, according to the authorities.

"What was the prize, anyway?" asked Alfonso XIII, only to be told by Local Bargain Jerk, "The stuff that dreams are made of."  Urban Farmer urged him, "Forget it, Duque.  It's Cracker Jack."

"That is not cool, fools," Clyde Frazier said after the game, though as Suzyn told him, "A great man once told me that there's no predicting the actions of drunken idiots fighting over a child's trinket."

Asked how they happened to have on hand so many officers of Stadium Force—a lucrative new federal program, under which sports arena owners can hire on veterans of special forces units who were terminated from their old jobs due to war crimes, but have received a presidential pardon and full judicial immunity—Cdr. Wolfmanjack confided that, "We had an inside man, a rat, a snitch, wallpaper, call it what you will."

Wolfmanjack would give no clue as to who the informer was, save to say, "He operated under the nom de guerre of a certain Yankees infielder.  Who played for the team between 1965-1973.  On the right side.  Good luck figuring out THAT clue!"

All of the culprits were taken into custody by masked, camo-wearing, heavily armed Stadium Force troops, who handcuffed and hooded them, and forced them into unmarked vans.

The only exception was the one female member of this outfit, the gun moll known as "TheWinWarblist."  Due to her sex, she was subjected to a citizen's arrest by Suzyn, and transported to her home for the evening, where a grueling session of karaoke awaited.

As for the rest of this hoodlum band, Cdr. Wolfmanjack told reporters, "Don't worry.  They'll be arraigned at the Bronx Country Courthouse in the morning.  I hope."

Asked what he meant by saying, "I hope," the commander gave an evil grin, and smirked. "Well, vans can lost in the Bronx.  If you know what I mean."

Told by reporters that they did not know what he meant, Wolfmanjack replied, "Look, the roads are very bad, and signage is terrible around here.  I'm sure they'll be there on time.  Or, you know, dropped in a river.  Or at least a public pool."











5 comments:

13bit said...

“What wicious times,” said the wabbit! Interlopers!!!

I need to re-read this a few times in order to absorb what happened.

In the meantime, I am returning to my bed, where Scarlett J. awaits my. consolatory bedtime story.

ranger_lp said...

I read somewhere that Suzyn's karaoke sessions can be worse than Vogon poetry.

Mustang said...

Thanks for this. I woke up in a Cortland parking lot with no memory of what had happened, and you cleared a lot up for me.

Local Bargain Jerk said...


Great stuff, HC66. I may instruct my heirs to change my epitaph to read "there's no predicting the actions of drunken idiots fighting over a child's trinket."

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