To Hail or not to Hail--- Ep. 3

One of many experimental iterations ...

burgold

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By my eye, this last was the longest of days and a test of wills that try man's heart. Those charlatains, those red bishops that hid dirks beneath their robes fought furious. they did indeed bloody our man gross and run through our Hall, but still we held. Still, we rose victorious. Our line may have faltered, but we were not broken. They may have danced in our field but never did we stop and in the weary dusk they did did taste our heel and our boot.

What joy to hear them moaning in retreat in their strange tongue "Gano! Gano!"

Still, this day is not done. For the muleteers come. Those foul unwashed heathen savages who lie with cows as most Godly men lie with women threaten. Those nightmares that mothers speak of in hushed voices. Those braggarts of Dal who ride their ugly stubborn asses and bang their shields and taunt and jeer at us.

Will you tremble and hide as they proclaim they are the kings of all nations? Is it to hide behind the skirt and let them have sway? Is it beneath the covers or upon the march! Will you lift your voice in Hail defiance of their of their donkey calvary! One more time, will you gird your heart to rise with your fellows!

They say we have no chance, but friends, they also say we should have already fallen. So, I ask why should we fear them. These are no men of God, they are monsters without even Adam's rib. They are the centaurs or Dal. They are the calvarous muleteers. They mock you and plan to strike with hoof and bomb.

Let us not wait, but charge upon their fields. Let us march into the night against their walls and make them taste our bombs and teach them to fear our siege weapons... our Hightowers.

So, I ask you a third time will you hail victory or cower behind the sheen of despair or of sour cyncism? Will you raise your voice so loud that it will make their mules buck and fall or do you call the day done before the first charge is called. Will you cry so hard that the land of Tex and all their asses tremble will your belief topple the muleteers of Dal?

What say you? Do you fight on sons of Washington?
 

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micks113

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"What say you? Do you fight on sons of Washington?"


Fight on Fight on, til you have won
 

Miles Monroe

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Twas the night before Dallas, and all cross the land
the opinion had changed, about Mike Shanahan.
The team seems so different, cohesive and cool
Not even once, have the Skins looked the fool

The faithful were hangin, with twenty four to go
When the Skins march into Dallas to put on a show.
And mamma’s in the kitchen, and just dropped a plate,
I may just explode from everyhing that I ate.

When from the other room arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the recliner to quiet the chatter.
Away from the family room I flew like a flash,
The computer was playing a tune from the Clash.

The screen so bright, making everything glow
Gave the luster of mid-day from my head to my toe.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
Redskins cheerleaders with an inspiring cheer .

I sat at the computer, so lively and quick,
And lit up a stogy, ya that does the trick.
More rapid than eagles, glorious images they came,
As I sat and watched highlights of our first two games

"Now Tim! now, Roy! now, Rex and the linemen!
On, Tana! On Jabar! on Fred there all fine men!
To the top of the notch! to the top of it all!
There up for the challenge, they all hear the call!"

As dry leaves that before, the wild hurricane fly,
A victory is needed, the Skins faithful did cry.
So into their house the Redskins will go,
With hopes oh so high, and standing two and O.

And then, in a twinkling, we’ll be off with a pop
The pounding of the ball, the pukes just can’t stop
As I drew in my head, the team we would play,
I hoped in my hart, that we would win the day.

In Burgundy and Gold, from their heads to their feet,
This team is determined, they will not be beat.
A bundle of nerves, like a greyhound on crack,
The Redskin defense, is ready to attack.

My eyes-how they twinkled! my nose like a cherry!
My cheeks were like roses, it must be the sherry!
My droll little mouth is drawn up like a bow,
As the computer chair just ran over my toe.

The filter of a cigarette he held tight in my teeth,
And the smoke encircled my head, it looked really neat.
I have a round face and a nice round belly,
I not really that tall, and my feet are dam smelly!

I’m grumpy and grouchy, a right salty old elf,
And when I think of it now, I might piss myself!
With a blink of the eye and a twist of the head,
I realize the wife is finally going to bed.

I’ll talk a bit of smack, I’ll go straight to work,
On some cow puke forum, they’ll all go berserk.
And laying a finger, just a few key strokes
I’ll completely piss, of a bunch of cow polk!

I’ll call it a night, and have another nip
And I’ll enjoy my stogy, and the sherry I sip.
And you’ll hear me exclaim, as I turn out the light,
"Hail to the Redskins ! Slaughter Dallas Monday Night !"


 

fansince62

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miles...you got your iggle present in advance today!
 

burgold

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i dunno guys..what if we just wrote a stern letter proclaiming our disapproval?
Nay, nay my good fellow. Tis not sufficient to dip your quill and keep your tongue still.

Thou must rise or flee. The choice is upon thine shoulders.
 

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