And lo, the great and invincible Empire of the Dawg, having whipped down the wimpian People of the Wine Coolers, even Vandy, turned their eye northward, to the land of Tubby the Two-Timer, the site of the Last Stand of Curry the Unhirable, the place of they whom call themselves Southerners yet liveth near OHIO; to the land where the grass is blue and the horses run feeble circle-races with dandified, jabbering midgets astride them, rather than manly fur-chested and shreiking warriors; where the deposed ruler known as the Monarch of Mumme, the Towel-Togged Tosspot, cheateth BIG yet winneth NOT; yea, this is a land of unmanly feebleness where surely the men have besotted and stupified their minds with overly much bourbon.
And the People of the Blue Grass talketh of tearing down their girly-goalposts, for THEY have a wobbling wastrel warrior known as Jared the Gellatinous, the Jelloed J-Load, the Bluegrass Beacon of Bacon. And what, they scoff, are the People of the DAWG to the Round Mound of Lexing-Town, the Pigskin Porker? For when he rolleth out, he really rolleth, and and when he planteth his feet, the stadium trembleth, and when he heaveth forth the ovoid, great hawks falleth lifeless from the sky.
Heareth the prophet, Blundering Blue Grass Blubber Grubbers! J-Load shall me mowed! The Beacon of Bacon shall be shaken! The Doughboy shall be rolled, cut up and cookiefied. It has been said of olde that there is no blue food, but yea, verily, it shall be so. For Pollack the Pulverizer shall grab the pigskin, then skin the pig. Sullivan the Sackster shall bring forth the pain, Musa the Marauder will do fiendish things with One Thumb that Casey the Cowerer could not do with One Arm. And One shall be the number of quarters that the People of the Dawg shall require to humiliate thee, and Two shall be the number of blocked kicks, and Three shall be the number of Dawgly quarterbacks who shall enter the fray, and Four shall be the quarter when girly piccolo players from the Great Band of Red Coats shall enter the game and prolong the pummeling of the pudgemeister. And lo, even Loran of Dawglore shall come upon the field of battle and placeth his microphone wear the sun shineth not.
And Jared the Gellatinous shall be melted down to fat and grease, and flown forth across the sea by a fleet of jumbo jets, and poured out upon the entire nation of Iraq. And there will be great howling and cries of surrender, but the Crisis of Crisco shall engulf all the nefarious nimrods there, and a great sizzling shall be heard, and the land shall now be called Fry-raq, and the incoming freshman class of North Avenue shall be decimated, and the world shall be joyful, and the BCS shall crown forth the People of the Dawg, and the Zookly Zig-Zaggers shall await their doom. Amen.