FURIOUS GEORGE CONTINUES TORRID PACE, HOT OFF THE AP WIRE!

FURIOUS GEORGE CONTINUES TORRID PACE, ROLLS TO FIFTH STRAIGHT VICTORY... NEW DADS LEAD THE CHARGE... DRUNKEN URQUHART GOES MIA

Portland, OR (AP)

The news finally came over the radio, followed by a song about "faster horses, younger women, older whiskey and more money". Furious George Plays Pool - previously known as The Battling Bastards of Binks - had just wrapped up their fifth straight victory, this time in convincing fashion over the strange outcasts from Sweet Home. With public support firmly behind Furious George, a party immediately erupted on the streets of Northeast Portland. Cars honked and young women in convertibles exposed their breasts as they drove by. "Get out the hose boys, its going to be another festive night in Portland," grumbled a clearly perturbed Police Chief Wiggins.

Starting the night in fourth place, and lingering just 5 points off the lead in the highly competitive NOPO division, Furious George came out of the gates poised and confident. "I could smell the awful stench of fear coming from Sweet Home's side of the table," stated Creepy White afterwards. "It was kind of like stale cheese."

First up was new dad Willie Ryder, who set the tone for Furious George with a swift 3-0 sweep. He toyed with his opponent - much like a cat will often do to a mouse - as he worked the crowd, tipped back a pint of beer, and whupped ass all in one seemingly effortless motion. "That kind of performance will really get the boys going," commented one excited fan afterwards. Everyone cheered and rejoiced Willie's opening sweep except for Urqhuart, who growled and complained about having to fill out "another one of those 'effing certificate forms". His face turned red and his eyes grew mean. Beads of sweat began to form on top of his bald head.

Next up was new dad Veto, who was assigned the tall task of taking on Sweet Home's seven. With bags under his eyes and nothing but baby gibberish ringing between his ears, Veto started slow, showing his rust and dropping the first two games. Then something triggered deep inside him. Perhaps it was pride, or possibly gas the Cha Cha Cha burrito he ate for lunch. Or perhaps it was the Binks mojo, which is once again rumored to be in the air. Whatever it was, it smacked Veto cold in the face and woke him from his daze. He quickly came to life, scraping through the pivotal third game and finishing off his opponent with a long bank shot on the eight ball. With momentum on his side, he made quick work of the next game, running the table down to the eight ball on the break and leaving himself with an easy set up for the win. In just one short inning, it was all over. Veto had effectively slain Sweet Home's Goliath. The crowd roared and once again the Furious George bench exploded, exchanging hand popping high fives. Everyone, that is, except for Urquhart. The red faced coach just scowled, cursing Veto for not dragging out the innings or having any regard for his "goddam ranking".

With the new dads leading the charge, Furious George took an early 2-0 lead. Sweet Home was clearly clinging to the ropes, gasping, exhausted, desperate for a miracle.
Creepy stepped up to the table next, looking dashing as usual in an orange, button down shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. After a sluggish start, he turned it on and finished strong, dazzling the crowd like a true magician. He followed impossible cut shots with precision leaves, barely allowing his awestruck opponent time to breath. The poor fool just stood there, with his jaw wide open and his Boston Red Sox hat crooked on his head. "You ain't in the cozy confines of Fenway Park anymore," Creepy reminded him as he shook hands afterward. "You're in Bunks now, byaaatch!"

Furious George 3, Sweet Home 0.

Victory was theirs and the excitement ran high amongst the players and the fans. Urquhart, however, was nowhere to be found. He had unexpectedly disappeared before Creepy's match; possibly to the bar, possibly to the donut store next door, or possibly out back with an underage Brazilian boy who may or may not have been an underage male prostitute. Rumors buzzed around like bees, but no one knew for sure where their fearless leader had gone. Only one thing was known for sure: he was drunk, and he was mean.

Up 3-0 and needing just one more win to complete the sweep (Sweet Home had forfeited the final game, which we will get to shortly), Bam Bam strolled to the table and screwed together his famous Sneaky Pete. A hush came over the crowd. His girlfriend Kara looked on proudly, blushing like a school girl at the glorious sight of her man preparing to do battle. He started out in his usual fine form, but was ultimately hampered by bad breaks, strange rolls, and an opponent who played at least three levels above his ranking. Our hero was swept 4-0 in a terrible upset, and the Sneaky Pete went quietly into the good night. The missing Urquhart, of course, later blamed Veto for the loss.

"I pity the fool who has to play Bam Bam next week," said life long APA fan and former A-Team star Mr. T. "He gonna make some dumb sucka PAY!"

Undermanned and clearly outwitted, Sweet Home meekly waived the white towel of surrender. Due to a missing player, the final match had been forfeited. According to team spokesman Crazy Carl, their captain had recently lost a toe in a tragic lawn mower accident and is not expected to return anytime soon. Confirmed Veto, who was forced to suffer through the long, painful story: "The lawn mower story is true, Carl told me all about it. The details were heinous, just truly God awful man. There was blood and bone and shattered toe nail everywhere. I could barely stand to hear it. Fortunately, I was able to tune out the second half of the story by focusing on the giant soars on Carl's forehead."

Final Score: Furious George 4, Sweet Home 1.

Status of their mojo: Rising.

Urquhart's status: Still drunk, and still missing.