Latest posts by yeah right (see all)
- Sunday Gravy with yeah right: Veal Saltimbocca – Jump in my belly! – February 18, 2018
- Sunday Gravy Season Premier: The “Jucy Lucy” and Various Sundry Gameday Foods Now that the Season is Over! – February 11, 2018
- Tales from the Meteor – “The Road” to Superb Owl LII – January 30, 2018
Editor’s Note: here at DFO, many of us are not satisfied with the Super Bowl matchup. For some of us, this is because we hate both teams at a level that rivals Belichick’s hatred for playing with an unmarked deck. For others, our seething hatred of one team is more than enough to overwhelm our relative indifference for the other, leading to a Super Bowl we simply have no interest in watching. As such, we’ve been fantasizing about scenarios that might take place that would prevent the game from being played at all. These are our stories.
Exterior: Dusk possibly. A lone figure is seen in the distance pushing a wheelbarrow as clouds of smoke and falling ash surround him. The light is a murky, sickly orange and a slight breeze blows just enough to stir around the larger pieces of ash. Attached to the figure is a rope that is also pulling a shopping cart.
The figure is a soot covered man with torn clothes and worn out sneakers, he is obviously straining as he both pushes the wheelbarrow and tries to keep a steady course with the shopping cart that is attached to his waste with a rope.
Man: (speaking down to an object in the wheelbarrow) “We’re in luck today kid. There’s no sign of any rain clouds and the wind is blowing from the West. If we keep pushing we can make a few more miles, maybe find a little shelter and hopefully find a store or house to scout out. We’re running low on canned food but I’ve got a good feeling today.”
The figure in the wheelbarrow is silent.
Man: “Hey Kid? Hungry?”
The figure in the wheelbarrow stirs enough to reveal a young boy, also covered in soot who appears to be concussed or catatonic but he does seem to be responding to the Man’s voice.
Man: “There you are. Thought you were gonna sleep all day. Let’s find a spot off of the road and get us some food before we push on for the day.”
The boy sits upright and looks around at his surroundings, he seems dazed but alert. The Man finds a clearing just off the road in a copse of trees. He pulls the shopping cart off of the road and conceals it behind some charred brush. He pushes the wheelbarrow over to a large rock and gently lifts the boy out of the wheelbarrow and places him on the rock in a sitting position. They appear to be concealed from the road in front of them.
Man: “Looks like we’re down to Vienna sausages and some saltines, Kid. I think I’ve got a little mustard to spice it up some.”
The Kid’s head droops down a little but with a resigned sigh he sits up for his food.
Man: “I hear you kid. Sure as Hell isn’t a medium rare ribeye is it? Guess it’s no coincidence that this is all we seem to find whenever we come across a store or gas station. I will admit we sure don’t have to worry about it spoiling. This shit will last forever. Including after a nuclear explo…”
The Man stops mid sentence and the boy stares at him with a frightened look.
Man: “Sorry about that but if you ever do get around to talking again we really need to be open about this. We can’t go on pretending everything is going to be OK because…”
In the distance a branch snaps. Gruff voices can be heard. The Man grabs the boy from the rock and they hurry to find shelter further back from the road.
Man: “Kid! We have to be quiet! Stay down and don’t make a sound until they pass! Our lives may depend on it!”
The Kid whimpers and covers his head with his ragged coat. The Man also covers his head with his coat as the two hunker down in total silence as the voices get closer and closer. As he looks across the clearing the Man sees…
Dog Boy 1: “Goddammit Joey I cud use a glass of wooder about now. Shoulda never left the fuckin’ shore.”
Dog Boy 2: “Got that right Paulie. Fuck I could use-a fucking’ cheesesteak wit about nah. Fuck man, I would even eat a hoagie from fuckin’ Wawa I’m so fuckin’ hungry.
Dog Boy 1: “Maybe we’ll stumble across-a lost Patriots fan and we could have some fresh Boston meat, huh?”
Dog Boy 2: “Gotta say, never thought I would get used to eating humans but when cooked right? Dey really hit the spot. Remember dat old man and his dorter? She was a piece of ass, amirite?”
Both creatures laugh uncontrollably.
The two dog headed demons continue walking slowly past the hidden man and boy and disappear in the distance.
Man: (whispering) “Shh! They’re almost gone. Just a couple more seconds.”
Boy: (whispering) “What, what was that?”
Man: “You spoke! You can talk again!”
Boy: “Where are we? What happened? What’s going on?”
Man: “You were out of it for awhile Kiddo. Two weeks at least. Holy smokes I thought you were never going to talk again. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Boy: “Something about a football game. Was is the Superb Owl?”
Man: “That’s right! It was! Remember the riots? Do you remember them?”
Boy: “Riots? But it was just a game.”
Man: “It was until those asshole Philly fans had to go and ruin a perfectly good underdog story.”
Boy: “Underdog? What?”
Man: “It started in Philadelphia as a pep rally kind of thing. You had the usual nonsense with the drunken fans and climbing on cars and light poles, you know the usual idiocy.”
“Then things got out of hand. Nobody knows for sure how it started but some of the fans started looting liquor stores and businesses and it just got out of control.”
Boy: “All because of a game?”
Man: “That’s right. These shithead fans couldn’t handle success and ended up destroying their own city. After a couple of days the riots started again. This time in Boston.”
Boy: “Wait, wasn’t the Philadelphia team playing the Boston team in the football game?”
Man: “That’s right. Those damn Patriot fans couldn’t stand the idea of anybody one-upping them so they started rioting.”
Boy: “Really? Over a football game?”
Man: “That’s right, over a football game that hadn’t even been PLAYED YET!”
Boy: “Holy cow!”
Man: “Then over the next couple of days the riots started spreading to other cities like they did during the L.A riots of 1992. They became impossible to control. The National Guard was called out but there were just too many rioters nationwide for them to make a difference. The President declared martial law and instituted a curfew for the entire nation.”
Boy: “President Tru…”
Man: “SHHH!! Don’t ever say that name again. That name will get you killed now.”
Man: “Things were just starting to settle down when the first Photoshop appeared online.”
Boy: “A Photoshop? Of what?”
Man: “Someone says it came from 4 Chan or another image hosting site but once it was published it spread like wildfire”
Boy: “What was it?”
Man: “Somebody said the President didn’t have the balls to stop the riots. Next thing you knew someone posted a photoshop of him with a very tiny penis standing next to North Korea’s leader who had an enormous penis.”
Man: “That’s what everyone is saying. The president got so mad at the photoshop and the rumors that he took matters into his tiny little hands and pushed the button.”
Boy: “The button?”
Man: “Yes. THE button.”
Boy: (whispering) “No. No, that’s not possible.”
Man: “He did. Over and over until every major city with a riot on their hands was reduced to smoldering ash and ruin. New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Dallas, The LBC. Next a nuke was launched at Mexico City, the president said it was North Korea but the entire world knew. Then every country with a nuclear missile program unleashed everything.”
Boy: “Was it the Korean guy, Kim something?”
Man: (with a slight chuckle) “No, actually it wasn’t. Turns out they only had 4 bombs. Three of them exploded on their launch pads and the fourth went strait in the air and came right back down on Pyongyang. He wiped out his own people.”
Boy: “That’s not really funny.”
Man: “No, it’s really not. Billions have perished. The world is in ruin and other nations are not helping. There was a photo shared on the internet just before the internet shut down, it was of the leader of Germany holding a picture of the President’s little penis Photoshop and laughing hysterically. No help has arrived. There’s no help coming.”
Boy: “So those dog people are…were they talking about eating people?“
Man: “There are some folks who are like them but there are other folks, good folks who are like us, just trying to survive but the Philly fans are taking it even more personal because their team didn’t get to play in the big game and they’ve deluded themselves into thinking they could have beaten New England. Morons. They’ve taken to eating the dead since food is scarce”
Boy: “So what do we do now?”
Man: “We stay alive. We forage for food wherever we can and just keep on moving. If the winds are right and we avoid the fallout we can stay alive for another 5 or 6 years easy.”
Boy: “That’s all?”
Man: “Afraid so. Although there are rumors that there are radioactive free zones to be found and you just have to keep searching. I met a group of nice folks who said there is a safe zone in Minnesota and I think I’m going to try to find it.”
Boy: “Minnesota? But weren’t they supposed to be hosting the big game? How did they survive?”
Man: “Son, Minnesotans are too polite to riot. Besides nobody wanted to damage the awesome new stadium that the Vikings play in.”
“The only problem is, after the first bombs went off, Tru… Uh, the president boarded his emergency E4B plane and began circling the country. After a few days when the first rumor of Minnesota being a “Safe Zone’ came out he decided to head for there to re-establish his authority. I like to think that the last rumor I heard about him was true.”
Boy: “What, what do you mean?”
Man: “According to some of the locals, shortly after the President’s plane landed, he was captured by some angry citizens and turned over to this man, some said he was sort of famous, this man. Anyway the story goes that this man raises some kinds of wild animals and he took out some long overdue justice on the President. I really like to believe this rumor. After all of the insanity I can only hope for some form of justice, even if it’s “frontier justice.”
Boy: “Let’s go! What else do we have? Even if it is just a rumor it’s something to hope for. It’s “hope!””
Man: “You’re right. Let’s head North!”
Meanwhile in Minnesota.
Massive props to Low Commander of the Super Soldiers for his God-like photoshop skills.