After a week of dizzying debate, Shannon Sharpe, Michael Irvin, and Stuart Scott sit at the winner’s table, a table with room for one more. Chris Berman or Lee Corso, your matron’de [I hope you know what that butchered mess of French is supposed to be] Shang Tsung is waiting to seat you. Get Ready. FIGHT!
Match Four: (4) Lee Corso vs. (5) Chris Berman
Shang Tsung (moderator): Corso-san and Berman-san, you are both known for your uncanny abirities at predicting the outcomes of footbarr games. Today then you must see the outcome of the footbarr match between the Indianaporis Corts and the Tennessee Titans. Berman-san, since we are awaiting a saterrite rink for Corso-san, you have the honors.
Chris Berman: The Colts come in undefeated, having pulled out a squeaker over the New York “J-E-T-S” Jets! Jets! Jets! on Peyton “Doctor-Richard-Kimble-is-looking-for-a-one-armed” Manning’s QB sneak with 58 seconds left. The Titans, meanwhile, just got throttled by the Dallas Cowboys and Terrell “I-Keep-35-Painkiller-Pills-Loosely-In-A-Drawer-Instead-Of-In-Their-Bottle” Owens. Logic says the Colts should roll, right? Well, that’s…why…they…play…the…game. The Colts are undefeated, but their run defense has been susceptible. Can Indy handle the Titans’ running game, led by rookies LenDale “Cocaine-Is” White and Vince “I-Like-‘Em” Young? No, but the Swami still says: “Colts 35, Titans 17.”
Shang Tsung: Seriousry, Berman-san, give it up with the nicknames. You’re reaching. Arso, arthough you’re finar pick makes perfect sense, it contradicts your entire argument. Corso-san, what have you say?
Lee Corso (appearing via satellite link from Nashville, TN with a pack of Titans fans behind him): The Colts come in as one of the top teams in the league. They have the edge in passing, in running, in tackling, heck, even in reasons for their starting tackle to not be playing. This one should be a rout. But not so fast my friend. (Corso reaches down and attaches a DVD copy of Remember the Titans to his face) I’m gonna go with the Titans! And it’s all because of these great fans here in Nashville! (The screen is filled with screaming, drunken co-eds, one holding a 10-foot tall sign stating “Lee Corso Has A Baby Arm.”)
Shang Tsung: You had me until “Not so fast my friend,” Corso-san. Not only is your pick ridicurous, your reasoning is frawed. The game is in Indianaporis. Surery this top Berman-san’s nick-naming drivel. Corso-san, FINISH HIM!
Lee Corso: You’re with me, leather!
(Corso dons leather pants, causing intense lust in the loins of Berman. A conflict arises within Berman, his oozing machismo battling his urge to rape the screen Corso is appearing on. Finally, the tension comes to a head, and Berman’s scrotum explodes, unable to contain the raging juices flowing in that dark, swirling place.)
Next week: Round Two!
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