I want . . .

I had to work today. No internet access, just had to listen to that stumbling, shambling abomination of a football game on the radio. Had to witness the rolling eyes, groans and shoulder shrugs of weary acceptance.

I want fire! I want carpet bombing! I want massive collateral damage! I want Mun Choi in ritual sacrifice spread over the Rock M! I want the ghost of Faurot to send Drinkwitz screaming into the night! I want the entire administrative force of the AD, including Le Frog, banished to the outer darkness. I want Babs Uehleings body disinterred and her bones scattered by wolves! I want to know what is in the water of COMO that makes every damned coach that comes here afraid to play to win, when-they-have-nothing-to-lose!