RoosterSmith
09-03-2012, 03:11 AM
Ladies …
Gentlemen ...
Transgendered …
For the benefit of your reading pleasure,
Mr. Smith humbly invites you to read his newest drama,
The life story of the greatest King Lakewood has ever known ...
DRAGON ****ER
Part 1
On a cold, rainy night on Paul Lorenz field, a small crowd gathered to watch the Oregon State Lady Beavers take on Washington.
Maximum capacity? 1500 rabid women football fans!
Maximum capacity would not be tested. About 30 people showed up.
A dozen members of the Oregon State Lesbian Club made their presence known. They were loud and they were passionate, but not as passionate as the members of Alpha Sigma Phi, many of whom were courting the players.
“You're *** looks great tonight, Marie!” was a real shout of encouragement from that fateful night.
A night that would go down in history. It was the night the Lady Beavers played their tenth match in a season they would again not make the playoffs.
And there was another historical fact about that match, royalty was in attendance!
That's right, King Bob Malik Dylan Shabazz was sitting in the very last row of those bleachers. Of course, King Bob didn't even know he was a King back then. And he looked very different than the Monarch Rock Star that captured the hearts of his subjects.
He was a young man in his early twenties. His brown face was not scarred, as it would be later in life. And his trademark “Afro,” as he called it, was taller and not as well groomed as people will remember.
His attire too, was not in the slightest bit regal. He wore a vintage Portland Timbers jersey and white cargo shorts.
The King loved football, and this game was of special significance to him, for the love of his life was playing on the left wing.
Laura Reynolds. She was having a hell of a match that night. One couldn't teach the kind of aggression she showed on the ball.
All night Laura ran through the mud, taking on defenders one on one and even one on two at times. She lobbed countless balls into the box and she even took 3 shots herself, hitting the post twice.
Her signature auburn pony tail whipped around furiously every time she touched the ball.
On this night however, luck was not on the Lady Beaver's side. Also, their finishing was ****. 3 forwards and still, for the life of them, they could not TRAP THE ****ING BALL!
Laura had that ball at full time. When the referee blew the whistle she kicked the ball away in anger. It was a nil-nil draw.
She glanced up at the King, who smiled and gave her a thumbs up. She was still mad at him though, and while she smiled back, Bob knew he was not out of the dog house yet. It wasn't her Warm smile.
As Laura and the rest of the team walked into the locker room, Bob got up and shuffled down the steps of the bleachers.
He kept having to pull his shorts up, as he had lost some weight and they were now too big for him.
He only made it halfway down before he heard the rowdy group of men chanting, “Show your tits!”
Even at that young age, in that savage land called America, the King would not tolerate such behavior. Indeed, there would normally have been a great thrashing to be handed out!
But just like the King often had to show restraint in the court, he had to show restraint on Paul Lorenz field that night. Laura was a peace loving woman, and countless nights of bailing him out of Jail had taken it's toll on her bank account.
Spending her birthday in one such jail was the straw that broke the camels back …
The King's relationship was in shambles and he didn't want to risk upsetting his love even one more time.
Someone else would have to be chivalrous on this day! Of course, I paraphrase His Highness, who spoke with a strange American accent.
A stocky woman in a plaid collared shirt and mullet stood up. “Hey, it's the year 2012, *******s! These women are athletes!”
It seemed that the lesbians were offended by the Chauvinistic chanting.
“Ah, shut the **** up! No one cares what you think you ****ing dikes! Go suck on a strap-on dick!”
That line angered the King greatly. For, unlike most Americans, his mother had raised him better than that. He turned to the man who shouted the offensive words. He was a tall blonde man, Rich Larson, the president of Alpha Sigma Phi!
“Why don't you go suck your friends ****, douche bag!” shouted another lesbian, who, along with all her sisters, was now standing as well.
Well, the accusation of homosexuality did not sit well with Rich Larson or his group of platonic frat brothers. They also stood up and gestured disrespectfully to the lesbians.
There was a lot of shouting, and then, in no time at all, the lesbians rushed the football players in unison. Fists went flying, and the long forgotten battle of Paul Lorenz Field had begun.
This put our King in a very difficult position. On one hand he had no quarrel with the actions taken by the ladies. It was indeed, what he would have done if someone had bit their thumb at him!
But he was thinking of Laura. Laura would not have approved the escalation of the argument to violence.
Maybe if he were to break up this scuffle, Laura would look favorably upon him?
Yes, that was what the King was about to do! He would be a hero to his beloved, but not by way of war! By way of peace!
The King ran between a frat boy and a lesbian shouting, “Alright, guys! Let's break this up!”
“Get the **** out of my way, *****!” And the frat boy punched our King in the face.
As he staggered backwards, the mighty King Bob was seeing red.
The lesbian his assailant had been grappling with now had the man in a headlock. So the King took advantage of this by kneeing him in the side. The man fell and was then stomped repeatedly into the bleachers by our King.
It was then that a red blur rushed past our King and tackled the lesbian who had been standing next to him. It was Rich Larson and he was now beating the woman about the head and neck as he pinned her down beneath his girth.
With a war cry his ancestors had shouted countless times, one that seem perfectly natural to him, though he could never understand why, the King ran into the skirmish!
He pulled Rich off the lesbian and drove his fist into the man's gut. Rich felt that, but was able to shove the King back and sent him rolling down the steps.
The King came to a stop a few steps down but could only gaze up at Rich momentarily before an errant punch found it's way into his face. It became clear to the King that it would be a while before he could work his way back up to Rich Larson.
King Bob was not the tallest man, which of course you already know. But he was a man of great aggression! If he wasn't punching above his weight, he didn't feel like he was punching at all!
The King pulled one beefy man off a grateful lesbian, hitting him with an upper cut and sending him tumbling down the bleachers! Then he dodged the blow of another and kneed him in the testicles before kneeing him again in the face.
The King was like a bowling ball, knocking over the pins of sexism and oppression!
Two more men fell under the crushing blows of the King's fists before the surrounding frat brothers caught on to his presence and rushed him all at once.
Our King was the greatest warrior who ever lived! Which, again, you already know. But he was only one man and at the end of the day, he could not stand against the savage hoard of chauvinist pigs!
He was eventually taken to the ground by two large, beefy men. He was kicked and spat upon. Surely, he would have suffered great injury.
But thank God for the Lesbians!
Not much is known around our parts about the American Lesbian. But I can assure you! They are fierce and capable warriors! With muscles as large as their hearts and a thirst for justice!
You will find few braver allies on the battle field!
And we owe the American Lesbian! For they saved our King on that night! Charging the two men and drawing their attention away from King Bob.
Needless to say, the King and his mighty lesbian army had the fraternity against the ropes! And surely they would have slain their enemy and placed their heads upon tall sticks if the campus police did not show up and break up the fight.
The King was the last combatant that the police had to tase. ( Tasing is a strange American Magik, involving great bolts of lighting! )
Rich Larson was cowering on the steps and crying, begging the King to stop striking him when the police got to him. It took a generous amount of electricity before the King fell.
***
When the battle of Paul Lorenz Field was over the campus police realized that they did not have enough cars to take every man to jail. So the King had to wait, laying on his stomach in handcuffs for the cars to return and take him and his lesbians to lock up.
“Thanks for the assist back there. That might have gotten rough,” said an appreciative lesbian who was laying next to the King. Her name was Rhonda, the mullet haired woman who first sounded off against the frat boys.
“My pleasure,” our King said with his signature sheepish grin. “Anytime I get to bust someone's head in for a good cause … ”
He shared in a knowing laugh with the lesbian before he heard a disappointed voice that sank his spirits.
“Oh my, God! Are you serious!? What the hell happened out here!?”
Laura had returned from the locker room and stood over the King holding an umbrella and wearing a scolding look on her beautiful face. She was wearing a new dress under her jacket. A little black number, no doubt she had worn it for him.
The King felt terrible!
Just then, it seemed that the rain started to pour down harder.
“Laura! Oh, hell! You're not gonna believe this!”
“Really!? I'm not gonna believe this!? Did you get into another fight!?”
“Yeah! But this time-”
“Then I believe it! What the hell is wrong with you, Bobby!?
“I didn't have a choice!”
“Just like you didn't have a choice when that waiter looked at you the wrong way?”
“That guy was a dick!”
“Or when you're boss yelled at you!?”
“I can't eat my lunch at the register!? What is this? Nazi Germany!?”
“You're temper is terrible, Bobby! This is why you got kicked out of school!”
“I'm sorry, baby! I really tried this time!”
One of the police cars came back then, and an officer lifted the King to his feet. He began walking His Grace towards the car.
“You know I love you, Laura! I wasn't gonna let anything piss me off tonight! But this just happened! I didn't even start it!”
“Bobby! This always happens. It happened on my birthday last week. I had to look my father in the eye and tell him he was right! You will never change! This is just who you are!” A tear formed in her eye.
“I'm sorry, baby. Let me try again, they're probably not gonna keep me all night!”
“No, Bobby. This isn't about me. It's about you. Why do you do this?”
“I honestly don't know ...” The King wasn't lying. He rarely ever did. Court records show he mainly lied to fat women to make them feel better about themselves.
He really didn't know why he loved battle so much.
Little did he know that it was in his blood. That he came from the greatest line of warriors the world had ever seen …
“Well, you're gonna get yourself killed someday, Bobby! And I'm not gonna stick around to see that. We're done!”
Laura walked away in anger as the officer pushed Bobby into the car.
Terror filled the King's heart. It was the one thing he was afraid of. That she would leave him. And it had taken so much convincing to get her to see him tonight …
“No, wait! Laura! I can change! I'll go back to counseling!”
“No you can't, Bobby!” she screamed over her shoulder. “You beat up the councilor!”
The King screamed as loudly as he could from the car. “I didn't know what irascible was! I thought it was racist! I apologized!”
And then the officer shoved the King into the police car. Seconds later, Rhonda joined him.
“That was pretty rough,” she said. “You alright?”
The King was not alright. He knew that he had blown his last chance.
He knew that he had thrown away his relationship with the greatest woman he had ever met.
“Yeah,” answered the King. “I'm alright ... I just … You know … Lost my soul mate ...”
And then, because the King had never been trained to push down his emotions and keep them dormant in the pit of his stomach, he started to sob uncontrollably into the lesbians ample bosom.
And sob he did. Loud, uncomfortable sobbing.
For in the King's entire life, he would never love anyone the way he loved Laura …
Gentlemen ...
Transgendered …
For the benefit of your reading pleasure,
Mr. Smith humbly invites you to read his newest drama,
The life story of the greatest King Lakewood has ever known ...
DRAGON ****ER
Part 1
On a cold, rainy night on Paul Lorenz field, a small crowd gathered to watch the Oregon State Lady Beavers take on Washington.
Maximum capacity? 1500 rabid women football fans!
Maximum capacity would not be tested. About 30 people showed up.
A dozen members of the Oregon State Lesbian Club made their presence known. They were loud and they were passionate, but not as passionate as the members of Alpha Sigma Phi, many of whom were courting the players.
“You're *** looks great tonight, Marie!” was a real shout of encouragement from that fateful night.
A night that would go down in history. It was the night the Lady Beavers played their tenth match in a season they would again not make the playoffs.
And there was another historical fact about that match, royalty was in attendance!
That's right, King Bob Malik Dylan Shabazz was sitting in the very last row of those bleachers. Of course, King Bob didn't even know he was a King back then. And he looked very different than the Monarch Rock Star that captured the hearts of his subjects.
He was a young man in his early twenties. His brown face was not scarred, as it would be later in life. And his trademark “Afro,” as he called it, was taller and not as well groomed as people will remember.
His attire too, was not in the slightest bit regal. He wore a vintage Portland Timbers jersey and white cargo shorts.
The King loved football, and this game was of special significance to him, for the love of his life was playing on the left wing.
Laura Reynolds. She was having a hell of a match that night. One couldn't teach the kind of aggression she showed on the ball.
All night Laura ran through the mud, taking on defenders one on one and even one on two at times. She lobbed countless balls into the box and she even took 3 shots herself, hitting the post twice.
Her signature auburn pony tail whipped around furiously every time she touched the ball.
On this night however, luck was not on the Lady Beaver's side. Also, their finishing was ****. 3 forwards and still, for the life of them, they could not TRAP THE ****ING BALL!
Laura had that ball at full time. When the referee blew the whistle she kicked the ball away in anger. It was a nil-nil draw.
She glanced up at the King, who smiled and gave her a thumbs up. She was still mad at him though, and while she smiled back, Bob knew he was not out of the dog house yet. It wasn't her Warm smile.
As Laura and the rest of the team walked into the locker room, Bob got up and shuffled down the steps of the bleachers.
He kept having to pull his shorts up, as he had lost some weight and they were now too big for him.
He only made it halfway down before he heard the rowdy group of men chanting, “Show your tits!”
Even at that young age, in that savage land called America, the King would not tolerate such behavior. Indeed, there would normally have been a great thrashing to be handed out!
But just like the King often had to show restraint in the court, he had to show restraint on Paul Lorenz field that night. Laura was a peace loving woman, and countless nights of bailing him out of Jail had taken it's toll on her bank account.
Spending her birthday in one such jail was the straw that broke the camels back …
The King's relationship was in shambles and he didn't want to risk upsetting his love even one more time.
Someone else would have to be chivalrous on this day! Of course, I paraphrase His Highness, who spoke with a strange American accent.
A stocky woman in a plaid collared shirt and mullet stood up. “Hey, it's the year 2012, *******s! These women are athletes!”
It seemed that the lesbians were offended by the Chauvinistic chanting.
“Ah, shut the **** up! No one cares what you think you ****ing dikes! Go suck on a strap-on dick!”
That line angered the King greatly. For, unlike most Americans, his mother had raised him better than that. He turned to the man who shouted the offensive words. He was a tall blonde man, Rich Larson, the president of Alpha Sigma Phi!
“Why don't you go suck your friends ****, douche bag!” shouted another lesbian, who, along with all her sisters, was now standing as well.
Well, the accusation of homosexuality did not sit well with Rich Larson or his group of platonic frat brothers. They also stood up and gestured disrespectfully to the lesbians.
There was a lot of shouting, and then, in no time at all, the lesbians rushed the football players in unison. Fists went flying, and the long forgotten battle of Paul Lorenz Field had begun.
This put our King in a very difficult position. On one hand he had no quarrel with the actions taken by the ladies. It was indeed, what he would have done if someone had bit their thumb at him!
But he was thinking of Laura. Laura would not have approved the escalation of the argument to violence.
Maybe if he were to break up this scuffle, Laura would look favorably upon him?
Yes, that was what the King was about to do! He would be a hero to his beloved, but not by way of war! By way of peace!
The King ran between a frat boy and a lesbian shouting, “Alright, guys! Let's break this up!”
“Get the **** out of my way, *****!” And the frat boy punched our King in the face.
As he staggered backwards, the mighty King Bob was seeing red.
The lesbian his assailant had been grappling with now had the man in a headlock. So the King took advantage of this by kneeing him in the side. The man fell and was then stomped repeatedly into the bleachers by our King.
It was then that a red blur rushed past our King and tackled the lesbian who had been standing next to him. It was Rich Larson and he was now beating the woman about the head and neck as he pinned her down beneath his girth.
With a war cry his ancestors had shouted countless times, one that seem perfectly natural to him, though he could never understand why, the King ran into the skirmish!
He pulled Rich off the lesbian and drove his fist into the man's gut. Rich felt that, but was able to shove the King back and sent him rolling down the steps.
The King came to a stop a few steps down but could only gaze up at Rich momentarily before an errant punch found it's way into his face. It became clear to the King that it would be a while before he could work his way back up to Rich Larson.
King Bob was not the tallest man, which of course you already know. But he was a man of great aggression! If he wasn't punching above his weight, he didn't feel like he was punching at all!
The King pulled one beefy man off a grateful lesbian, hitting him with an upper cut and sending him tumbling down the bleachers! Then he dodged the blow of another and kneed him in the testicles before kneeing him again in the face.
The King was like a bowling ball, knocking over the pins of sexism and oppression!
Two more men fell under the crushing blows of the King's fists before the surrounding frat brothers caught on to his presence and rushed him all at once.
Our King was the greatest warrior who ever lived! Which, again, you already know. But he was only one man and at the end of the day, he could not stand against the savage hoard of chauvinist pigs!
He was eventually taken to the ground by two large, beefy men. He was kicked and spat upon. Surely, he would have suffered great injury.
But thank God for the Lesbians!
Not much is known around our parts about the American Lesbian. But I can assure you! They are fierce and capable warriors! With muscles as large as their hearts and a thirst for justice!
You will find few braver allies on the battle field!
And we owe the American Lesbian! For they saved our King on that night! Charging the two men and drawing their attention away from King Bob.
Needless to say, the King and his mighty lesbian army had the fraternity against the ropes! And surely they would have slain their enemy and placed their heads upon tall sticks if the campus police did not show up and break up the fight.
The King was the last combatant that the police had to tase. ( Tasing is a strange American Magik, involving great bolts of lighting! )
Rich Larson was cowering on the steps and crying, begging the King to stop striking him when the police got to him. It took a generous amount of electricity before the King fell.
***
When the battle of Paul Lorenz Field was over the campus police realized that they did not have enough cars to take every man to jail. So the King had to wait, laying on his stomach in handcuffs for the cars to return and take him and his lesbians to lock up.
“Thanks for the assist back there. That might have gotten rough,” said an appreciative lesbian who was laying next to the King. Her name was Rhonda, the mullet haired woman who first sounded off against the frat boys.
“My pleasure,” our King said with his signature sheepish grin. “Anytime I get to bust someone's head in for a good cause … ”
He shared in a knowing laugh with the lesbian before he heard a disappointed voice that sank his spirits.
“Oh my, God! Are you serious!? What the hell happened out here!?”
Laura had returned from the locker room and stood over the King holding an umbrella and wearing a scolding look on her beautiful face. She was wearing a new dress under her jacket. A little black number, no doubt she had worn it for him.
The King felt terrible!
Just then, it seemed that the rain started to pour down harder.
“Laura! Oh, hell! You're not gonna believe this!”
“Really!? I'm not gonna believe this!? Did you get into another fight!?”
“Yeah! But this time-”
“Then I believe it! What the hell is wrong with you, Bobby!?
“I didn't have a choice!”
“Just like you didn't have a choice when that waiter looked at you the wrong way?”
“That guy was a dick!”
“Or when you're boss yelled at you!?”
“I can't eat my lunch at the register!? What is this? Nazi Germany!?”
“You're temper is terrible, Bobby! This is why you got kicked out of school!”
“I'm sorry, baby! I really tried this time!”
One of the police cars came back then, and an officer lifted the King to his feet. He began walking His Grace towards the car.
“You know I love you, Laura! I wasn't gonna let anything piss me off tonight! But this just happened! I didn't even start it!”
“Bobby! This always happens. It happened on my birthday last week. I had to look my father in the eye and tell him he was right! You will never change! This is just who you are!” A tear formed in her eye.
“I'm sorry, baby. Let me try again, they're probably not gonna keep me all night!”
“No, Bobby. This isn't about me. It's about you. Why do you do this?”
“I honestly don't know ...” The King wasn't lying. He rarely ever did. Court records show he mainly lied to fat women to make them feel better about themselves.
He really didn't know why he loved battle so much.
Little did he know that it was in his blood. That he came from the greatest line of warriors the world had ever seen …
“Well, you're gonna get yourself killed someday, Bobby! And I'm not gonna stick around to see that. We're done!”
Laura walked away in anger as the officer pushed Bobby into the car.
Terror filled the King's heart. It was the one thing he was afraid of. That she would leave him. And it had taken so much convincing to get her to see him tonight …
“No, wait! Laura! I can change! I'll go back to counseling!”
“No you can't, Bobby!” she screamed over her shoulder. “You beat up the councilor!”
The King screamed as loudly as he could from the car. “I didn't know what irascible was! I thought it was racist! I apologized!”
And then the officer shoved the King into the police car. Seconds later, Rhonda joined him.
“That was pretty rough,” she said. “You alright?”
The King was not alright. He knew that he had blown his last chance.
He knew that he had thrown away his relationship with the greatest woman he had ever met.
“Yeah,” answered the King. “I'm alright ... I just … You know … Lost my soul mate ...”
And then, because the King had never been trained to push down his emotions and keep them dormant in the pit of his stomach, he started to sob uncontrollably into the lesbians ample bosom.
And sob he did. Loud, uncomfortable sobbing.
For in the King's entire life, he would never love anyone the way he loved Laura …