Grin-22 was hard at work in the Laundry Room of the JFMAST HQ. It was his job to keep the team uniforms in pristine condition and he knew that HeadCoach would not accept any sub-par performances. He had seen the fall from grace of both Gazza and JohnFarehamJr and been stripped of his own jersey due to his underwhelming performance in the staff physical. There was no wiggle room, even in his supposedly roomy shorts. 

Tensions were running high in locker room, especially after the result last night. Grin-22 pulled a copy of the game report from Protector's discarded shorts. He had killed himself after reading it with all the non-lethal means of a certain former LHM who will remain nameless. As FrizzleFry put the team through their paces, Grin-22 allowed himself a quick glance at the summary.

BRICKTOWNCL BRAWLERS SECURE COMFORTABLE WIN OVER ALL STAR TEAM. HEADCOACH REMAINS DEFIANTLY BULBOUS.

DETROIT-- — DirkStripe found a way to get consistently good looks and helped the BricktownCL Brawlers ease to a comfortable win over a toothless and scarcely protected, John Fareham Memorial All Star Team (JFMAST). 

Despite the undiminished cheering of sisterivoryDarkmore, long-time JFMAST fan and supporter of Terrah bloodline assistant coach FrizzleFry, it was the questionable ball-handling skills of Skidmark that really exposed the frailties in this young JFMAST team. His turnovers unfortunately proved every bit as costly as his continual tips.

There had been a lot of talk about Skidmark's starting berth, particularly by liquid detergent proponent and JFMAST laundry kingpin, Grin-22, which was dismissed with fat confidence by HeadCoach in the build-up to the game. "What does that guy know? Boy's waddling around here bursting out of his Seriously Stocky Boys shorts, thinking his opinion matters."

FrizzleFry, tanning himself as usual in the reflected glory of others also added, "I heard he only managed to wound a bodyguard once too." 

Skidmark remained bullish after his poor season opener.  "I know what my strengths are," Skidmark said. "Just try to read what's in front of me and just play with my instincts. Sometimes I'm going to make the right play and sometimes I'm going to make the wrong play, but as long as I play within my strengths, we're going to be in a good place."

HeadCoach intimidated he will likely be dropped regardless. 

The most memorable sequence for the All Star Team came when Shaquille_ONeal, little known JFMAST center, having ousted long-time veteran starter CallMeDaddy (0 appearances), intentionally missed a second free throw attempt, hoping for his teammates to pick up the offensive rebound. ONeal had made the first free throw, presumably by mistake, before flinging a shot that went hard off the backboard before hitting the rim.

"Missed it perfectly," ONeal said. "Nobody was ready, (but) our guys were. Got it up on the rim. We had a few chances at it. Just didn't work out for us."

FrizzleFry commended the hustle shown by ONeal, but did question whether this was needed when the BricktownCL outfit had a commanding 21 point lead due to the misfiring offence and unfortified defence of the All Star Team. 

BricktownCL was not ready to declare victory in the series quite yet. "So this game was relatively straightforward, like Constipated's decision to execute his Right Hand over the comments of someone else or Lincoln_Lawyer to give the writing contest prize money to a non-participant. I get it. I'm proud of the work the boys put in today and we'll be back at it tomorrow."

HeadCoach was magnanimous in defeat. "They have a good team spirit, something we are trying to replicate here, actually. As jovial as I am and like good humor and have acknowledged such, there has to be a time when things get serious. Not writing contest serious, but maybe fighting for survival serious."

DirkStripe, fresh from the bedside of his injured bodyguards said, "there's going to be struggles, but at the end of the day, if you keep with it and you stay with it and you stay on course, you're going to succeed. If you don't stay on course, you're not going to succeed. It's as simple as that."

JFK_Jr, not a single allied pro-wacker murder on his record, looked deep in thought throughout, staring longingly at the many retired jerseys his family had committed to the cause. It wasn't enough. 

Final thought: Dazzling uniform game by the All Star Team, let down by their performance on the floor. 

Grin-22 allowed himself a small smile. 

Let's start with the positives: we looked good. Aesthetically, we were insane out there. Skidmark was absolutely glistening. Shaquille_ONeal looked like a titan of Olympus. Conqueeftador was, as always, perfect; the JFMAST cherubic golden boy, like a buff Cupid dropping 3-pointers into the bucket like heart-tipped arrows. Protector looked like the hunchback of Notre Dame but I guess that's why he killed himself. I thought it worked for him, with those scrunched up, disfigured little muscles poking out from all sides. 

The negatives?

We lost game 1.

Shaq, you're gonna have to keep an eye over your shoulder because Ragnarok_ impressed in his minutes off the bench. This guy wants to start and he plays like it. CancidRunt, AKA CR7, also looked great. However, I didn't appreciate his post-game interview, because I couldn't figure out whether it was the most foul-mouthed thing I had ever heard or a speech impediment. 

Anyway, you know what I always say: "As jovial as I am and like good humor and have acknowledged such". 

Alright everyone, get some blueberry yoghurt in, coach Fry is over there handing out non-fat chocolate milk.

CancidRunt's ears pricked up.  He had been away enjoying the holistic benefits of a lassive wong mank after the game and hadn't yet had the time to study Headcoach s notes.

Thoroughly refreshed he went over to the notice board and discovered that the ferial suckwit Grin-22 had had his crayons out again.

The devine play notes which the coach meticulously puts down had been erased to be replaced by several 'kilroy was here' doodles and loads and fucking loads of cool S's.

"What a tucking fwat" CancidRunt mutters to himself.  His debut performance now replaced by idiom; much like the very streets he had just walked from.

Wilt had sat in the stands watching the action unfold in front of him.  The shooting of Shaquille_ONeal for a missed shot had seemed a little harsh but that was the Detroit crowd these days.  HeadCoach looked like he needed a new center, Ragnarok_ had the look of a man to fill a gap.  Not being one to doubt his own abilities Wilt reckoned Ragnarok_ looked like a flat head screwdriver in a Pozidrive team and Wilt was the screwdriver for every situation but he'd leave it for HeadCoach to see that in his own good time.

He cast his eyes around the crowd and started counting in his head "20,001, 20,002..."

Iron Mike had the misfortune of turning up for training 2 hours late the day following the loss. HeadCoach looked like a man on the edge, a fine girthy man, but a man on the edge no less. Mike decided a show of attrition would calm the mass monster.

"Thorry Coath"

If looks could kill Iron Mike would be as dead as John Fareham.

"TAKE A LAP CRETIN" is the reply from Coath.

Iron Mike's heavily muscled form soon completes a quick lap. Returning to face Coath he tried another tack, maybe some sports philosophy will calm coath's tortured soul. He takes a deep breath & says in a high pitched voice,

"Pain ith beautiful, and death ith even more gloriouth than life becauthe that'th when you really begin to live. You know, we muthtn't be afraid of death. We mutht look at death ath being gloriouth."

The mass monster coath pulls a disgusted face.

"ARE YOU ON DRUGS IRON MIKE?"

"Why yeth coath, yeth I am"

"Excellent, hand them over, these losers could use a lift to help with performance"

"No problem coath..."

The door to the laundry room was ajar and the small gap between timber and frame allowed Grin-22 to observe another disappointing practice. The driers were rotating full blast, 37 RPM, the perfect speed to give the uniforms the buffeting they needed to dry out without losing their crisp feel. At least MikeTyson was putting the yards in, Grin thought to himself as he watched the new recruit sprint across the floor, eyes bulging out of his head like JFK_Jr's had during the 10th round of a certain infamous duel. Performance enhancing drugs clearly seemed like the next logical step for this team of no-hopers. Ragnarok looked one more turnover away from a mid-war suicide and the less said about CancidRunt, the better.  

"Keep going, guys!" Grin shouted, forgetting himself. Neck fat throbbed violently as HeadCoach slowly turned around to note the disturbance. Grin retreated to the safety of the laundry. He would be better served trying to pair the lost socks than motivate the team, FrizzleFry had made that perfectly clear at the last team meeting, which Grin had gatecrashed.