the McLaren F1 limo dropped Dave Checketts off at the fifty-foot high gates of cocobolo wood inset with ivory carvings of soccer balls. He strolled down a lush ocelot-carpeted walkway to a marble flooring mosaic set in the pattern of a center circle. as he stood there, the platform began to descend into a secret underground bunker. Muzak filtered through the titanium walls of the elevator shaft, "Angels we have heard on high, singing give soccer a try" A silken red cardinal's robe with a diamond MLS label was presented to him as he stepped into the meeting room. Phil Anchutz sat in a golden throne at a round table with Lamar Hunt, Stan Kroenke and Robert Kraft. Anchutz wore black robes, Hunt blue and Kroenke a black robe with blue hood. Kraft wore green. -Hey, bob, none of your teams have green. Checkets tried to joke. -We gave him green because he likes to save money on his stadium, said Hunt. A small hologram of Kevin Payne appeared in the center of the table. -DC's ownership group just gets to listen in - they're not at the big-boy table yet, said Kroenke. -Where's Jorge? -We gave him bad directions. He'll show up eventually. Anchutz passed the truffle-coated peanuts to Checketts. -Let's get started. He pulled out a pair of ruby dice. -Everybody roll for their place in the standings next year. -But Jorge isn't, oh, I get it. Kraft was upset at the result. -Damn, not losing to the Galaxy again! Can't we play poker to settle this instead? Anchutz lifted a gun from an opal case lined with velvet. -Now for the real business. He handed Hunt the Desert Eagle and kept the .44 Magnum for himself. -One bullet isn't a blank, Lamar. Anchutz pointed his gun to a shelf where an aide placed a Troy Dayak Earthquake bobble head doll next to a small, stuffed toy wolf. Anchutz looked over at Hunt. -No bobbleheads from us, we're trying to save money. - Well, this here will settle who gets to move to Houston to make some. After three shots, Anchutz blew the head off the doll. - Damn, not another year in Arrowhead. Hunt stormed off, bumping into Jorge Vergara in the elevator. - I brought the good tequila! Hey, guns - this is like dinner with Hugo Sanchez. Vergara picked up the Desert Eagle. - Shoot Checkets, said Anchutz Vergara shrugged, aimed and pulled the trigger until the gun was empty. - hombre! you need better bullets. these are all blanks.
awesome, awesome post, bailamos. It was so good, that I felt the rhythm take me over... bailamos. I want to live this post forever... bailamos. (btw: I was quoting a Ricky Martin song, you know, b/c it's entirely appropriate given that the topic is the Smurfs... [/weak attempt at gay smack])
Sorry, uclacarlos; but after 2nd thought I deleted my post because, frankly, I don't know enough about either to make a comment like that. And you know here on bigsoccer, we pride ourselves on knowing just what the hell we're talking about....