Mike Vick vs. Dogs
by Ice Cream Jonsey
I'm giving the feds until midnight tonight to report that LaDanian Tomlinson shoots endangered species as a hobby. Otherwise, I'm prepared to announce the San Diego - Atlanta draft day trade as OFFICIALLY won by the Chargers. Ha ha ha, it couldn't happen to a nicer fanbase. Don't get me wrong, the majority of Falcon fans were understanding, compassionate and charitable when Katrina hit and those people are cool with me. As for the vocal minority that thought it was fun to tweak Saints fans about San Antonio and the hurricane: payback's hilarious, isn't it? Hilarious for us, I mean.
I hope it feels great to have this frigging sociopath's name on the back of your jersey. This is like getting a Yankees jersey and stenciling BERKOWITZ on the back. The one link they found between American serial killers is that they all tortured animals before going onto humans. Which I guess is fitting, seeing how Atlanta sports fans don't bother to show up for Braves' playoffs games, Vick has now systematically serial killed sports in Atlanta.
I think this whole thing contrasts nicely with the skeleton in the closet of our franchise's best player. For instance, whereas Michael Vick has executed dogs for not fighting up to his lofty standards (seriously, if I were a dog that got shot in the head by a guy with a 53% career completion percentage because he thought I lacked that 'killer instinct' I wouldn't even be mad. If he sprays his bullets like he does his passes I'd probably just take the gun out of his hand and do it myself with my paws, after the shock of bullets coming up short and off to the side wears off) our best player has had too much sex. Rickey Jackson, seven kids. BAD AT INTERCOURSE. It's not like Vick has a similar failing to go along with the dog killin-- ah, I can't even continue this farce, he radiates herpes like Chernobyl radiated a nice green glow and I wouldn't want any female I cared about to be within a hundred miles of either. His exploits make Rickey seem like the 49 Year Old Virgin. Vick is such a failure as a human being that bad behavior from our favorite players is only a subset of his.
With nobody in the NFL to compare to this frigging monster, this super-villain, there's nothing that can be done except await the trial. He's going to have to bring in Marcus Vick as a character witness. Of the three guys in history who are bad enough joes that Marcus Vick showing up to testify on their behalf would help them, one of them died centuries ago (Genghis Khan) one is made up (Darth Vader) and the other is his brother Mike. When Momma Vick brings her womb into church I bet all the candles blow out. The best part is that you know that Mike will try to pawn the whole thing off like he had no idea any of this was going on at his house.
Let me tell you a story of how normal people act when in a situation like this. I was babysitting my nephew a couple years ago and he got into the cache of emulated Super Nintendo games. He brought up "Bill Lambier's Combat Basketbrawl." I came downstairs and saw him playing it and felt instantly responsible for this crime against responsibility happening in my home. I knocked the white out of his eyes for this. (I know it sounds like I just beat up a six-year old, but I restrained myself from shooting a pack of puppies afterwards, so I still technically have the moral high ground.) You are responsible for the immoral and criminal activities that go on at your home, regardless of what the law says or doesn't say. I threw the hard disk that had that ROM into the neighborhood brush fire. Vick reacted to this stuff going on in his house, if we are to believe that he didn't shoot dogs himself, with all the passion of a bored ox on a hill. I hope they lock up this monster and throw away the key. Apparently you only get six years, according to an earlier post in this thread. Yeah, well, it should be in dog years. Or whatever equivalent for the animal, unless it's a parrot or a turtle, since they live much longer than we do (and would therefore compress sentencing and make everyone involved feel awkward, while this three-state turtle spree killer goes, "YES!").
One last thing. I don't think enough has been made of the Falcons marching out Joey Harrington with the proper amount of knee-slapping hilarity. We stand a very good chance of being inside a division where the three other quarterbacks are Bruce Gradkowski, Jake Delhomme and JOEY HARRINGTON. And that's the first string! If someone gets hurt you might hear the words "Shockley," "Weinke" or "Plummer." I don't want to set expectations too high, but Jesus Christ! If Drew Brees weren't in this division, the NFL would have to contact the people involved in the "Serpentor" project from the old G.I. Joe cartoon and grow some combination of Joe Montana, John Elway and Otto Graham in a vat so that the division wasn't completely worthless, instead of just mostly.
There is a gif floating around the Internet of Harrington at a year-end QB Skills competition. He fumbles taking the ball off the table, he fumbles the ball onto the ground after he grips it and then throws the ball directly into the outstretched, cardboard hands of a fake, two-dimensional defender that WASN'T MOVING. I know some people might be saying, "Well, he beat the Saints in 2005." Yes, if you spot Joey a hurricane before the game starts, he'll take advantage. Harrington did hurry up the troops at the end of the game and get the kicking team out there for a last second "victory." Do you know what the score was? Seeing how it sealed the second pick for us, the final score was NEW ORLEANS REGGIE BUSH, DETROIT 0. In Detroit, Harrington lost (let me check on pro-football reference) a billion games for the Lions in five years and then couldn't even lose correctly when they needed him most.
OK, that's all I have. I had one leftover joke about how the owners of Fetch Monster knowingly switched teams as soon as they realized Vick was coming to the division, so I'll just stick it here. I nominate the Fetch Monster owners as "Best Doggie Parents, 21st Century." It's like convincing your teenager to go to state school instead of Clown College right before they start digging around in John Wayne Gacy's basement.
About the author: ICJ has been a rabid fan of the Saints for years.
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