Refusing to be intimidated by the blue felt, the cold room, or the crazy people all around them, Furious George won their fifth straight match at The Blue Parrot on Monday night. Willie Don't-Call-Him-Winona Ryder started off the night with his second consecutive victory. His opponent came out red hot and dialed into the back of the pockets, but Black Beard hung in there, maintained his composure, eventually regained the momentum, and closed strong in a 3-1 win. "He's becoming quite a solid lead off man for us," commented Coach Urquhart afterwards, who has struggled to fill this role since Waylund disappeared into the vast grocery world abyss.
Next up was the near train wreck of the night. Much like a football team who upsets a top ten rival one week and then falls to a lesser skilled opponent the next, Creepywhite nearly suffered a tragic let down in match two. "Its hard to get all geared up for some mediocre, middle aged skank once you've shared the big stage with The Mail Man," he said afterwards. "Once you've felt the heat of the bright lights, the glory of TV cameras, and the thrill of the roaring crowds... I tell ya, its hard to get too excited about anything else."
Paired against a much weaker five, The Georges sat back and expected a quick, effortless kill from Creepywhite. But they should know better by now, as nothing comes easy in the high stakes NOPO Division. He soon found himself in a fierce battle and the match dragged deep into the night. One game actually reached double digits in the innings column. Our hero was clearly not himself. He appeared dazed, shaken, perhaps still hung over from his big victory over The Mail Man. It was a terrible scene and his teammates struggled to watch. Some looked away. Others paced the room. Chewy put on his head phones and buried his face in a pint of beer.
But somehow, by the grace of the pool god Earl, he woke up just in time to avoid a truly awful melt down. "I thought he was going to crawl in the corner and curl up into the fetal position," admitted a shocked Chewy Webb afterwards. But their hero refused to surrender. No indeed. The pink kitten came out and prowled like it was dinner time. He eyed the angles closely. He stretched, quietly going through his calisthenics routine between shots. He ground it out until the very end, and was rewarded with a 3-2 victory.
"A win is a win," said Urquhart afterwards when questioned by reporters about the mental state of his top star - and most hated person. "I don't believe in ugly wins. Except in Veto's case."
Up 2-0, The Finger chalked his cue and stepped to the table, determined to seal the win for his team. He eyed his opponent up and down like she was dancer at an all male review, and wasted little time setting the tone in game one. He peppered her with a flurry of defensive shots, keeping her flustered, confused, and clearly out of rhythm; like a skilled matador waving his red flag in her darting eyes. "Just setting her up for the kill," admired on reporter from the sidelines, "she's red meat now."
Urquhart had the old bull by her mullet, and he wasn't about to let go. Sensing his opportunity to take the match, he switched gears like a finely tuned Mercedes Benz, slipping from defense to offense without so much as a stutter, cough or a sneeze. With the graceful touch of an old Italian oil painter (whom he hopes to find on his vacation next week), he feathered in a long cut shot, brought the cue ball off of one rail, and left himself perfect position on the eight ball. Blue Parrot fans sat stunned with their jaws and knuckles scraping the floor boards. The Georges erupted in applause! It was a fantastic celebration. Patrons in the poker room scurried to see what all the excitement was about. Drunks at the bar turned away from the TV and looked towards the tables. A karaoke singer stopped in mid verse, her voice suddenly drowned out by all the commotion.
Furious George 3, The Blue Parrot 0. Their fearless leader had accomplished his mission and sealed the win! He came back to the table and celebrated with a greasy cheeseburger, a pack of cigarettes, and some particularly harsh words for his most-hated person Creepywhite. "Happy?" Urquhart asked aloud, "what the hell do I have to be happy about? I won my match and this is what I come back to... a missing player and a money envelope that's $7 light?"
He flew into a tirade of curse words that cannot be relived in print - at least not here. Those in attendance will soon pray to forget the horrific scene that followed. The Captain raged with thunderous conviction. For the second week in a row Creepy had walked out on his pool tab. "This is unacceptable!" shouted Urquhart. "UNACCEPTABLE!" His temper flared up like a bad case of Scottish hemorrhoids. His fists clenched around the thin wad of cash, which had already been counted four times. It was still light, and Creepywhite was still to blame. Beads of sweat began to form on the top of Urquhart's bald head. The skin on his neck turned purple and blotchy. The crumpled one dollar bills shivered between his shaking, stubby little fingers. "Creepy will pay for this," he announced through clenched teeth and FURIOUS anger, "Creepy will pay..."
The rest of the team cowered in fear as Urquhart's inner Robert Dinero (circa Goodfellas, of course) unleashed itself yet again. He hollered threats, scowled, and broke a beer bottle on the bar. He threatened to crush heads, and began to speak in strange Italian tongues. And why? All because of Creepywhite and his blatant disrespect to The Code.
Sadly, the fall 2007 divisional champs were unable to win another match. Mixa and Chewy fell in quick succession, and The Georges were forced to settle for a 3-2 win.
"Mixa and Chewy showed a fine display of mercy and compassion towards our Parrots at the end," commented one grief stricken family member afterwards.
"Coming into the night, this team was ahead of us in the points column," summed up Willie Ryder, who looked particularly dapper in a pair of pressed dress slacks and a fine collared shirt from Macy's, "so we just picked up a big point in the standings."
In other news, Veto shocked the world by upsetting a highly favored Urquhart in challenge play. It was deep into the dawn of morning - on the back table - before the match got underway. The room was full of smoke and stench, drunkenness and bone headed debauchery. Unshaven men in filthy clothes bet the last of their paychecks on The Showdown. They were out of their heads on whiskey and whippits, and saw The Finger as a winning horse. Cash flew around the room as bets were placed. Veto was a heavy underdog and was taunted mercilessly by the crowd. But he forged through the conditions and stunned the hooligans, playing completely immune to Urquhart's timid defensive style of play. The new number one ran away and won easily, 3-1.
"A lot of people lost a lot of money on Urquhart tonight," said one angry bystander who had just lost $100 on the fiery Captain to win.
"He was number one coming in," summed up another dejected gambler, "which made him a heavy favorite with the rail birds. Damn that sonovabitch," he mumbled to himself, scratching his head in disbelief, "how am I going to explain to my kid that I just lost her lunch money on some bum named The Finger?"
"It was one hell of an upset," acknowledged Chewy afterwards, "but I guess it all worked out like it was supposed to in the end. Veto just restored the natural order of things around here: he is back on top, and Urquhart isn't."
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