Bugs 67 Pals 44

The Bugs came out to this battle for first with a huge right cross to the cut off horse head stand bye left over from the first Godfather flick, and while the Pals battled back, there was a little stop over on the express way where Yo Adrian and DeAngelo Williams were waiting with Tommy Guns at the ready in the toll booth. Look at how they murdered your boys, PAL! The Bugs showed why they are the clear cut favorite for the belt this season as I, the Schwartz, is putting this story to bed even before the Bugs stroll out Old Man Kurt and Fitz the Cat for a Monday Night victory lap around the silent Pal Pen. Big loss for the Ponies who look to stay above the fray and now find themselves with the rest of the suckers on Wall Street looking for a penny in the coin return slot of a pay phone while the Bugs are lounging in Arizona at an AIG corporate getaway sponsored by Ayn Rand and a trickle down system of tickle me Elmo Dolls that have the Bugs once again sipping tea with the correct pinkie finger and conducting their parade as they see fit. All 4 Pal losses have come at the hands of the Lea clan. Something in the brew to be sure.

Bug Child: What’s that on your Shirt Mr. Bug?

Mr. Bug: Why that? That little bugged one is the heart of a Pal.

Bug Child: That’s not a very nice thing to have on your shirt. Why does it drip.

Mr. Bug: Because it is still fresh.

Bug Child: I thought the Pals were stale – that’s why you taught us, right?

Mr Bug: Ah, the student is becoming teacher!

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Krons 46 Riders 26

The Riders thought they were going to hide inside of the Krons Birtday cake and come out with a pie in the face as a final surprise party gift, but the Golden Boy who just turned the big 3 OH! was in the center of his good luck charms and rubix cubes to deny the Rider Clan a chance at playing spoiler and left the Stache looking old and spoiled in the corner with the rest of the Lamas who had nothing left to play for. Did you really think LT was going to come through for you on this Day? No. The Krons celebrated Monday Night With Big brother exchanging points and brotherly red love as all the little birdies on Thorn Street loved to hear the Riders go tweet tweet tweet into the night – which is looking like a very dark place these days for the Stache. The Krons have the mojo working and seem destined for another playoff run. Can their backfield hold up enough to give the now potent aerial attack the juice box lunch lime trade love they need to finally capture a belt? Looking good Old Man, but looks don’t bring home the bacon in December. We like it Krons, but how much are you going to believe in your fantasy to get it right this year. Look not where your eyes take you and they will take you where they need to be.

Happy Birthday from The Schwartz!

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Rooks 49 Ubermen 12

Yowza! Runs, you are making my visions a reality in this fantasy world. Little Mo and the Green Bay Fanatics came through in a big way and solidified their castle that really was under no threat from an Ubermen team that has run out of funds to purchase their diesel which has become outdated all too quickly. The Poles were raised and held sturdy for those women of Green Bay who pack much funk in their trunks to warm the Rooks Nights who need blubber and beef to fight through the tough Ohio Winters. Got to have something to hold on to when the Nightmares start, which they must be for the Ubermen who spent half their loot sack on Maid Marion, a damsel who is always is distress without a Popeye to save her. The Rooks roll into Mid November now very much alive for their quest of a Belt – and the mad cap team of broken ribs, sprained thumbs and High Spirits are not to be underestimated – as the Schwartz foretold, this is the team with the Fantasy Trueness to take it all. Be who you want to be and you will be who you are. Rooks, this is too much heart for us to take, but we like more than we can handle. Ubermen, your team looks to be standing in the middle of the town square looking up a the loudspeaker and wondering why there is no music playing. The reason is simple: Your late to a dance that you were never invited to.

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X 25 ‘Lics 0

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