NationStates Jolt Archive

Live from the land of the One Red Dot, this is Clem Gilson, the Dean of Lemmitanian sports, on the Lemmitanian Radio Network. Tonight, we bring you the final match of World Cup Ten as your Lemmitania Lemmings face the Giant Zucchini national side in the Championship! It’s been twenty years since the Lemmings last played in a championship match, losing to the Chili Bats of Brazillico, and by all reckoning, they have an excellent chance of winning the Cup this time around. It’s half an hour from game time, and joining me in the booth are your commentators for tonight’s match, Lana Maelstrom and Lemmy “Atom” Meisterbrau. Lana, Lemmy, welcome.

Lana: Thank you, Clem. I remember as a lass of seventeen, listening to the Lemmings-Chili Bats match in World Cup Five, an’ it’s a pleasure to be ‘ere in the booth this time around.

Clem: Ah, youth.

Lemmy: Thanks, man. Hoppy Bejeezusmas.

Clem: Yeah, yeah. Happy holidays. Now, I’m also told that later in the broadcast, we’ll be joined by a special “mystery guest,” and everyone’s abuzz trying to guess who that’ll be.

Lemmy: Bejeezusclaws!

Clem: Enough about Bejeezusmas. We’re not going to talk about Bejeezusmas tonight.

Lemmy: But it’s Bejeezusmas Eve!

Lana: You can ‘ardly avoid talkin’ about it at leas’ a li’le, Clem.

Clem: Well, I’m gonna.

Lemmy: What’s gotten into you, man?

Lana: Some people don’t loik the ‘oliday season.

Clem: The majority of Lemmitanians don’t celebrate Bejeezusmas. So let’s just drop it, okay?

Lemmy: The hell they don’t.

Clem: The government of Lemmitania is avowedly atheist--

Lemmy: Religion ain’t outlawed, man. The government just doesn’t support it.

Lana: To be fair, Clem, most Lemmitanians aren’t Bejeezusians. But that doesn’t mean they don’t celebrate Bejeezusmas. Wot with the candy an’ presents an’ all.

Clem: Well, I don’t celebrate it, and I don’t want to hear any more about it. Okay? Okay?!

Lana: Fine, fine, foine.

Lemmy: Whatever, man. Bejeez.

Clem: Okay. So let’s talk a little about the Lemmings’ amazing run to the final.

Lemmy: Yeah, let’s. Considering we didn’t call any of the games, and nobody knows how it happened.

Clem: I personally blame LRN for the whole freakin’ fiasco. First of all, if they didn’t want us to call the qualifiers, they should have arranged that with us in advance. And second of all, having decided to skip broadcasting the quals, they should have told us that, when they had us report for the first match of the First Round. And third of all, they should have supplied June with the Audioslavia roster so we’d have had it in the booth and not made idiots of ourselves thinking we were seeing Tanah Burung the whole match. And fourth, pulling the plug on us halfway through the match was completely uncalled for. And fifth, I personally was ready, willing, and able, to handle the rest of the matches, and I think Lana was too, and there was absolutely no need to pigeonhole us with a complete battery of psychological tests before letting us back on the air. And sixth, considering the lengths they went to to certify our sanity, what the hell is Lemmy doing back in the booth with us? And seventh, I was prepared to show up for every match I was under contract to broadcast, and if LRN thinks they’re gonna get out of paying me, they better just remember what happened the last time we went to court. I soaked you bastards, and don’t you forget it! I better get every red lemming I’m under contract for, or you’ll end up paying triple again! And seventh, uh... seventh...

Lemmy: You already did seventh, man.

Clem: Right. Eighth: I did not appreciate being told that Glick Masterson never screwed up on such a royal scale. If Glick was so freakin’ great, how come he’s calling dog shows and I’m the Dean of freaking sports? Huh? You answer me that, Ricardo.

Lana: For the edification of our listeners, Clem is rhetorically addressing Ricardo Montana, Vice President of Programming for the Lemmitanian Radio Network, ‘oo got all up in Clem’s face after the Tanah Buslavia fiasco incident.

Lemmy: Hoppy Bejeezusmas, everybody.

Clem: Lemmy!

Lemmy: What?

Clem: You want me to choke you ‘til your eyeballs pop out?

Lemmy: Uh... no. No, thanks.

Clem: Then freakin’ stop with the Hoppy freakin’ Bejeezusmas!

Lemmy: Ohhhh... okay.

Lana: Lemmy’s got candy on the brain.

Lemmy: Man, I can’t wait to see what kind of goodies Bejeezusclaws shoves into my socks tonight. Oboy! Ouch!

Lana: There’s no call for ‘ittin’ ‘im, Clem.

Clem: There sure as hell is.

Lana: Stop talking about Bejeezusmas, Lemmy. It’s irritatin’ Clem.

Lemmy: Clem’s a glinch.

Clem: A what?

Lemmy: A glinch. Like in the story. “The Glinch who Ripped Off Bejeezusmas.” It’s a classic.

Clem: Of course it is.

Lemmy: “’Twas the night before Bejeezusmas, and all through the pad,
Not a creature was stirring. Not even Zach the Mad.”

Clem: Who the hell wrote this, Gil?

Lemmy: No, man. Grant Rockson wrote it. You know he hosts a children’s show on TV? I just heard that somewhere, recently.

Clem: I wonder where.

Lemmy: “The socks were all shoved in their drawers with great care,
In the hopes that Bejeezusclaws soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their cage,
And visions of sugarbombs coursed through their brains.”

Clem: You know what? No more of this, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Oh, okay, man.

Clem: Thank you.

Lemmy: Hoppy Bejeezusmas. Arrgh! Ackthptht!

Lana: Stop chokin’ ‘im, Clem!

Clem: No... more... hoppy... Bejeezusmas!

Lana: Don’t make me kick you in the neck, Clem!

Lemmy: Okay, man, okay. You don’t have to choke my throat, man.

Clem: Yes, apparently, I did have to.

Lemmy: Well, anyway, I didn’t want you to.

Clem: That’s the point!

Lana: In the interest of everybody jus’ gettin’ along, ‘ow about if we don’t talk about Bejeezusmas anymore, Lemmy? Okay?

Lemmy: Okay, man. All you had to do was ask.

Clem: No, I had to choke you.

Lemmy: And that.

Lana: Back to the matter at ‘and, then?

Clem: Back to the matter at hand. In the qualifiers, the Lemmings were grouped with Tanah Burung, Busby, The Lowland Clans, and as always, a bevy of new entrants. There was never really any question whether Lemmitania would qualify; the real competition was for first in the group, and this time around, it went to TB.

Lana: A 'ungry team, those Crocs.

Clem: Bi Kikere's squad have been on the cusp of greatness for about five years. They tore up the quals this time, losing only two matches-- both to the Lemmings-- and really looked poised for a run deep into the tournament. But once again, they stumbled in the first round, and I believe they'll be looking at another mid-twenties in the world rankings.

Lana: Not much improvement. Luck's been against 'em ever since the 'ellmouth got their number. An' even with the removal of the 'ellmouth from Lemmington, they still can't seem to escape its otherworldly clutches.

Clem: Yeah, right.

Lana: One cannot 'elp but note that the Crocs lost both matches to the Lemmings, and then got smacked down in the first round. They can fight it with their fightingest fightability, but they won't return to the world's elite until somebody shuts down that 'ellmouth once an' for all.

Lemmy: And that ain't gonna happen, man. The Hellmouth is an independent state now.

Lana: Tha's right. Louis Gilsterson is tryin' to run some kind of opposition government an' call it 'uman Gilmeecia, but those zombpires are the ones really runnin' the show.

Lemmy: And they're breeding like rabbits.

Lana: They don't breed, Lemmy, they raise up new zombpires from the buried dead.

Lemmy: Well, whatever, man. There's like, a billion of 'em. And the next thing, they're gonna start overrunning the borders, 'cause Gilmeecia's one minuscule little country. And all the other poor bastards in FIFA better look out, man.

Clem: So anyway, the Lemmings finished second in their group to TB, and drew Audioslavia, Commerce Heights, and Total 'n' Utter Insanity in the first round. We saw the first match, a 2-1 win over long-time rivals the 'Slaves-

Lana: 'oo we thot were the Crocs.

Clem: Yeah.

Lemmy: Maybe the fact that Zach de la Rocha was stalking around the sideline the whole time shoulda clued us in, man.

Clem: Maybe.

Lana: I thot 'e was Bi Kikere in drag.

Lemmy: Lana, man, you're gonna have Kikere and Mad Zach both tryin' to kill you if you go sayin' things like that, man.

Lana: Sorry, they look alike.

Clem: Then a draw with Commerce Heights, in the first-ever meeting between the two sides. And finally a one-nil victory over TnUI, a nation we've played many times over the years.

Lana: Two one-goal victories and a draw in the first round. The Lemmings 'ave been playin' it about as close as you can.

Clem: And it didn't get much better. Round two was a two-one silver goal victory over Svecia, and it was one-nil over the Flying Belmores in the quarterfinals. Then two-one over hosts One Red Dot in the semi-final match.

Lana: Givin' the Lemmings a record of five wins an' a draw, an' a goal-differential of five. That's wot you call 'squeakers,' there.

Clem: Absolutely. But a win's a win, and it's gotten them into their second championship match. Now, interestingly, in World Cup Seven, the Lemmings drew Belmore, Svecia, and Giant Zucchini in their first round group.

Lana: Indeed we did. Played those matches in ‘olloden, Audioslavia. Right after poor ol’ Gil got zapped into the ether.

Clem: Yeah, you were all pretty broken up about that, and for the first time in sixteen years, you were knocked out. The only time since the team’s first Cup appearance that they failed to make the second round.

Lana: Thanks for pointin’ that out.

Clem: Broke a string of three straight quarterfinal appearances.

Lana: Yep.

Clem: You were captain that year.

Lana: Wot of it?

Clem: Nothing. Just thought you might like to comment on the irony of meeting Belmore, Svecia, and GZ again this time around.

Lana: Wull, in Seven, we beat GZ an’ lost to Belmore and Svecia. This time we beat Belmore and Svecia, so I s’pose we’ll lose to Giant Zucchini. Assumin’ things are symmetrical.

Clem: You think they will be?

Lana: ‘oo knows?

Clem: How do you like the matchup, then?

Lana: Seventh- and eighth-ranked teams in the Cup, but prolly the most experienced squad in international play for GZ, an’ a bran’ new side for the Lemmings. You ‘ave to give Zucchini the psychological edge. Might say the Lemmings are ‘ungrier for it, but at this level, everybody’s pretty driven to win. You don’t make the final otherwise. As for the players, you ‘ave to give the advantage to GZ at most every position. Mel Melsterson was the shutout queen in Lemmitanian A-league play las’ year, but she’s only twenty-two, a three-year pro, an’ Oog’s been playin’ since the beginnin’ of recorded ‘istory. Maybe since earlier. It’s like that all over the field. Lemspoobagganaggatoratoreador’s a top striker, one of the best in the game. Shades of ‘enny ‘enneman there. But compare ‘er to Urk the Mighty... I mean, why bother?

Clem: True, when you look at the amazing careers some of these giant vegetables have had, it’s easy to get intimidated. But on a match-by-match basis, they’re beatable. As you pointed out, we’ve beaten them before-- beaten, essentially, this same side.

Lana: Yeh, they don’t age properly in Giant Zucchiniland. It’s weird.

Clem: Well, they’re not human.

Lana: No, nobody is these days. Ooo, speakin’ of which, I ‘ave a guess as to ‘oo our ‘special guest’ is gonna be.

Clem: Okay, who?

Lana: Maleficus.

Clem: Who?

Lana: The commentator for the Dire Arachnia football matches.

Clem: Ohhh, the giant spider. Assuming that he even actually exists, why the hell would we want him in the broadcast booth with us? Seeing as he’s a flesh-eating giant spider, and all.

Lana: A flesh-eatin’ giant evil spider, Clem. An’ one ‘oo unnerstan’s the finer points of a football match.

Clem: Be that as it may, I don’t want him in here.

Lana: Why not?

Clem: Does not the phrase “flesh-eating giant evil spider” make clear why I wouldn’t want him in here?

Lana: Afraid of spiders?

Clem: Three-meter high maneating spiders, yeh. I’m afraid of those. If they exist.

Lana: Maleficus wouldn’t eat us.

Clem: Why not?

Lana: ‘ave you ever ‘eard of a football commentator bein’ eaten by another football commentator?

Clem: Have you ever heard of a giant evil maneating spider being invited into a broadcast booth?

Lana: Think of ‘im as a peer, Clem, not as a giant evil maneatin’ spider.

Clem: Oh, you think he sees us as peers?

Lana: Solidarity! We’re all brothers. An’ sisters. Siblings, you know.

Clem: I don’t think my mother would like it if I had a giant evil flesh-eating spider for a brother.

Lana: Why not?

Clem: Because it would mean she’d given birth to a giant evil flesh-eating spider!

Lana: Mebbe you ‘ad different mothers.

Clem: That’s even worse! That’d mean Dad was fooling around with a giant evil female spider!

Lana: Hmm. Ugh, you might say.

Clem: Yeah.

Lana: Wull, mebbe Maleficus was adopted.

Clem: Look, I don’t think there’s any solidarity between us and Maleficus just because we’re all broadcasters.

Lana: Of course there is!

Clem: Assuming that he even exists.

Lemmy: Oo! Hey, Clem, man, you know what I just heard?

Clem: I have no idea, Lemmy. Maybe an echo inside your skull?

Lemmy: Nnnno. But that’d be pretty cool, man.

Clem: What did you just hear, Lemmy?

Lemmy: Oh. I just heard that Maleficus is coming!

Clem: Is he, now?

Lemmy: He’s gonna be the mystery guest. I heard. Man.

Clem: Where’d you hear that, then?

Lemmy: I dunno. Somebody was talkin’ about it.

Lana: That was us, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Oh, so you already know all about it. Pretty cool, huh?

Lana: Clem doesn’t believe in Maleficus.

Lemmy: What! That’s like saying you don’t believe in--

Clem: Don’t say it.

Lemmy: Bejeezusclaws!

Clem: Come here, Lemmy.

Lemmy: What for, man?

Clem: So I can choke you by the throat again.

Lemmy: Ooookay. If I have to.

Lana: Sit down, Lemmy. Clem, you’re not to choke anybody for the remainder of the broadcast.

Clem: Hmmph.

Lana: So, Clem, Giant Zucchini: the greatest team ever?

Clem: Could be. If they win tonight, they’ll have an excellent argument.

Lana: Used to be, Brazillico ‘ad that honor, ‘ands down. But when they dropped out of international play for ten years, it opened the door for others to step in.

Clem: Europa Brittania’s been to the semi-finals four times, I believe. And I think that’s the record.

Lana: Yes. They’d ‘ave a strong argument for “best ever” as well.

Clem: The second championship would just about clinch it for Giant Zucchini, though.

Lana: And if the Lemmings win?

Clem: It’s tough. A toss-up between EB, GZ, and Brazillico.

Lana: The Chili Bats still rate that ‘igh, you think?

Clem: For best all-time? Sure. Nobody’s ever strung together three performances like they did in Four, Five, and Six.

Lana: Where would you say the Lemmings rank, then?

Clem: Hmm. Somewhere in the top ten. Top five, maybe. Four quarterfinal appearances, and two finals. If they win this one, almost certainly the top five. If not, a bit farther back.

Lana: So if we agree that EB, GZ, and Brazillico are the top three-- an’ I’m not sayin’ I’m convinced about Brazillico-- ‘oo else would be in the top five?

Clem: Well, Svecia, probably. There aren’t many sides who’ve been to the semis multiple times. Arguably Quohog, mainly on the strength of a couple good runs. If they’d stuck around a little longer, I’d probably include Errinundera. Three tournaments, a semi and a championship.

Lana: I’d agree with those. Possibly also Runaway Moose.

Clem: Maybe. Now, the warmups are finished, and the ref’s bringing the captains out to midfield for the cointoss. That’s Trixitica Lemsmith for the Lemmings, and of course, Urk the Mighty for Giant Zucchini. Urk calls it, heads, and heads it is. So the Zucchinis will start with possession, and Lemsmith chooses to defend the right end of the field. We’ll break for some important messages, and return for the start of the World Cup Ten championship match after that.

OOC: Lemmitania, the finals are played in Giant Zucchini not ORD.


IC:
We are here LIVE at the Royal Red Dot National Stadium. I am Stu Dyogai, sports newsreader from Channel 7. The national anthems of both sides have just been sung with much pride and the game's about to start. With me right here in the box are my fellow commentators: Ken Takajima - a Freelance Writer and currently writing match reports for The Freedom Times, our national newspaper and also from overseas, Dennis Davidson from Aquilla.

Dennis: Uh, actually it's A..

Stu: Oh look the game has started and the crowd is going wild as the kick off begins. The Wolves had won the coin toss and starts the match off. Dennis, sorry, you were saying somethin'?

Dennis: Err, no, it's nothing. Anyway, I'm really looking forward to this match between One Red Dot and Ariddia, it's truly amzing that both teams have got this far.

Ken: Haha, if you ask me, those Ariddians got there by chance and some dodgy refereeing. I even heard that some refereees were citizens of Arridia or something like that.

Stu: Heh heh, Ken, you shouldn't be spreadin' stuff like that aroun'. You hav' a reputation to maintian.

Ken: Nah, it's ok. This broadcast can only be heard in One Red Dot and Aquilla, courtesy of our Aquillan commentator.

Dennis: Erm...(a pause)...yah.

Ken: Both sides are definitely almost evenly matched, but it looks like the Wolves have caught in some trouble at the far end of the field.

Stu: Hmm, that's nothin' that One Red Dot can't fix. Those Ariddian players can't even kick a ball 10 centimetres even if it was stationary in fron' of their feet.

(Stu and Ken laugh, Dennis could only manage a bit of a pretentious laugh, as though he didn't get the joke)

Dennis: That isn't really something you should say of your opponents. Where's the sportsmanship?

Stu: Aww, take it easy, boy. Lighten up. It's jus' a joke.

Dennis: Then maybe we could keep down on the humour, especially those of Ariddia. I thought we were trying to do something serious here?

Ken: Serious? I don't think so. We are practically going to be locked up in this hellhole box for the next 90 minutes or so.

Dennis: (Seemingly ignores Ken's retort) Looks like the Ariddians have gained the upper hand and are pressing down on the Dottians. It looks like a goal at this point. I can't wait.

Stu: Why are you supportin' the Ariddians so much? You got something against us or something?

Dennis: Erm, no...but since I'm not from One Red Dot, then I see no reason why I can't cheer for Arridia, can't I?

Ken: Hmmm, valid argument. But I don't really like the looks of this, it really does look lik..Oh mother (------), Ariddia just scored a bloody goal! Crap!

Stu: Yes, sad thin', and it was all so fast. Seems like time travels fast here too cos' it's the 38th minute already.

Dennis: So fast, hmm...looks like Ariddia is going to snatch this match.

Stu: Just shut up about the Ariddian side! What's so good about the stupid Ariddian side? That was just a fluke goal that occured in a split second. There's no freakin' skill in that! There's no freakin' skill in any of the Ariddian players. Why, they shouldn't even be here at all.

Dennis: I think you should pipe dow...

(whistle blows for half time)

Dennis: I'm getting out of here for a while!

(Dennis walks out)

Stu: Hmm, I wonder what's with him. Anyway, back to the match, the Ariddian side is now leadin' the match 1-0 at half time. You have to admit that it was a impressive goal, although I think it was a total *coughflukecough* in my opinion. 45 minutes should be more than enough for the Dottian side to gain the upper han' like in the pas' few matches.

Ken: Even in the Lemmitanian quarterfinal?

Stu: Err...jus' forget 'bout that one match. Hmm, the second half's about to start, I wonder where's Dennis.

(Dennis walks in, looking much calmer)

Ken: Speak of the devil.

Dennis: Devil, what devil. Don't worry, I've got a cross right here. (holds up cross that is around his neck in front of him)

Ken: No, no, I muttered 'speak of the devil' because you walked in when we were just talikng about you.

Dennis: What, so now you are picking on me now, now that the Ariddian players are not playing on the field???

Stu: Hey, relax alright? The second half's 'bout to start.

(referee blows whistle and an Ariddian player starts the kick off)

Dennis: It looks like Ariddia is set to dominate the second half too. The Dottian players don't look so spirited as before.

Stu: I'd to agree with you jus' this once, Dennis. You Aquillans definitely have good observation skills.

Dennis: Actually, it is A...

Stu: Oh Crap! Can't talk now! It looks like, this is, oh no, it goes there, an' passes, and goes, and back to, but through, and in, and high over, but towards, it deflects. Oh that was close...oh (----), it went in again. Those (-------) Ariddians are definitely getting under my collar.

Dennis: I think that's enough cursing on behalf of the Ariddians already!

Stu: Why are you so defensive? You aren't Ariddian. Why should you be offended.

Dennis: I am Ariddian.

(Stu and Ken are stunned momentarily)

Ken: But, you...you..said...

Dennis: Yes, I said I was Ariddian but you kept on hearing Aquillan. I tried to correct you but you always stop me.

Stu and Ken: Oh shit!

Dennis: And it looks like another Ariddian goal at the 64th minute, don;t you think?

Ken: Err..no hard feelings right? About your nation's players and the degrading jokes and all that.

Dennis: Hmm..I could forgive you, but I don;t know how you could answer to the Ariddian public. This broadcast, by the way, is heard by Ariddians, NOT Aquillans. You could announce a public apology.

Stu: Oh boy...do we hav' to?

Dennis: Your reputation's at stake.

Stu: Ermmmm...I...I...

Ken: I apologise for my crudeness.

Stu: How could you do that!!! Where's your sense of pride???

Ken: No matter. I need people to read my articles. I survive on that.

Stu: Then I'm sorry too

Dennis: What? I don't think the Ariddiam listeners could have heard you, especially with all the radio interference.

Stu: OKAY..I'M SORRY..HAPPY NOW THAT I'VE HUMILIATED MYSELF ON DOTTIAN AND ARIDDIAN RADIO???

Dennis: It's not my problem. I didn't ask you to shout so loud.

Stu: Why you little... (lunges over to Dennis to try to strangle him, but Ken hold him back)

Dennis: (Speaks professionally) Looks like the match has come to an end in the Royal Red Dot National Stadium. And is was such a depressing loss for the host nation to lose such a match. The two goals were score at the 38th and 64th minute. Thanks for listening listeners. Now it's time for myself to get to the Embassy of Ariddia to get some protection before this madman kill me. Good night.

The Giant Zucchini Times have announced their World Cup 10 awards:


The Lev Yashin Award
Awarded to the best goalkeeper in the competition
Winner: Mel Melsterson (Lemmitania)

The Senegal Award
Awarded to the best newcomer
Winner: Cockbill Street

The France Award
Awarded to the biggest flop
Winner: Liverpool England

The VfB Stuttgart Award
Awarded to the best bunch of high schoolers playing professional football
Winner: New Montreal States

The Dutch Award
Awarded to the highest ranked country which failed to qualify for the World Cup
Winner: Busby

The Saudi Arabia Award
Awarded to the country thrashed the worst in the competition (Not including qualifying)
Winner: Squornshelous

The Costa Rica Award
Awarded to the most superstitious country
Winner: Snub Nose 38

The Wolves Award
Awarded to the biggest comeback in the competition
Winner: Brazillico

The Rivaldo Award
Awarded to the best entertainers in the competition
Winner: Kingsford

The Paul Gascoigne Award
Awarded to the funniest commentator in the tournament
Winner: Lemmy “Atom” Meisterbrau

The Guus Hiddink Award
Awarded to the most popular person of the tournament
Winner: Alan Belmore

The Christian Vieri (Bobo) Award
Awarded to the dumbest player in the competition
Winner: Alan Belmore

The "Mike" Award
Awarded to the people who have the most common names in the tournament
Winner: Alan Belmore

The "3 Rs" Award
Awarded to the catchiest phrase coined during the tournament
Winner: "War on Errorism"

The Linguistically Impaired Asian Award
Awarded to the shortest RP posted during the competition
Winner: "A very angry Squornshelan coach throws things at his team." -Squornshelous, 1/12, 11:45pm (forum time)

The Costa Rica Award
Awarded to the most superstitious country
Winner: Snub Nose 38

*sputters in outrage*

Alan Belmore: Yey, three awards!

Everyone's favourite Player becomes TBF manager

Everyone's favourite football player, Alan Belmore, has become The Belmore Family's manager. The announcement came late last night after the old coach, Alan Belmore, resigned saying "The journey was a good one, but now I need to rest."
Prime Minister Alan Belmore even had a veiw on the matter, "Yes, I am pleased that some fresh blood is in there he might just be able to lift the curse on 3 word named teams.
But I, Alan Belmore, decided to research even further into the popularity of the new manger, travelling into the downtown Alan City pub The Alan Belmore I saw the ordinary folk, speaking to one, Alan Belmore I learnt (spoken entirly in Belmorian-to rude to publish in in English in this paper-TG the paper for traslation) "Niel Foo! Xie jede vud Alan Belmore! Neilass journ! Get tik ges Ei Foo, wit wen tet." As you can see, Alan Belmore appeals to the ordinaryy folk and I thin kthe nation will really rally round Alan Belmore and take TBF to the World Cup Final in Total n Utter Insanity!

The Costa Rica Award
Awarded to the most superstitious country
Winner: Snub Nose 38

*sputters in outrage*

My thoughts prezactly.

Just as a point of reference... I never received a TG of the score to the final match. Otherwise, I'd have written more than the intro to the commentary by now. Now that the score's been announced, I don't know that I'll bother.

So you'll never know who the mystery guest was to have been.

Though maybe I will, considering I had the whole damn thing planned out already. Sigh. Just pretend you don't know who won yet, people.

The Costa Rica Award
Awarded to the most superstitious country
Winner: Snub Nose 38

*sputters in outrage*

My thoughts prezactly.

Just as a point of reference... I never received a TG of the score to the final match. Otherwise, I'd have written more than the intro to the commentary by now. Now that the score's been announced, I don't know that I'll bother.

So you'll never know who the mystery guest was to have been.

Though maybe I will, considering I had the whole damn thing planned out already. Sigh. Just pretend you don't know who won yet, people.

Everyone's favourite Player becomes TBF manager

Everyone's favourite football player, Alan Belmore, has become The Belmore Family's manager. The announcement came late last night after the old coach, Alan Belmore, resigned saying "The journey was a good one, but now I need to rest."
Prime Minister Alan Belmore even had a veiw on the matter, "Yes, I am pleased that some fresh blood is in there he might just be able to lift the curse on 3 word named teams.
But I, Alan Belmore, decided to research even further into the popularity of the new manger, travelling into the downtown Alan City pub The Alan Belmore I saw the ordinary folk, speaking to one, Alan Belmore I learnt (spoken entirly in Belmorian-to rude to publish in in English in this paper-TG the paper for traslation) "Niel Foo! Xie jede vud Alan Belmore! Neilass journ! Get tik ges Ei Foo, wit wen tet." As you can see, Alan Belmore appeals to the ordinaryy folk and I thin kthe nation will really rally round Alan Belmore and take TBF to the World Cup Final in Total n Utter Insanity!

The Bureaucratic Tribune

Oglethorpians grumble
Alan Belmore just won't die.

By Bill Christmas

OGLETHORPIA (BT) -- Oglethorpians in 'drinking establishments' across the nation pass the 4 years in between World Cups by doing what else -- drinking and watching the Bureaucratic Broadcasting Network Sports channel.

But writers from the Bureaucratic Tribune were nearly injured by a falling television and an angry mob erupting from the establishment 'The Bloody Hangover' as news of an androginous Alan Belmore came over the tele.

"That bloody tosser?" shouted one Wonderteam fan, throwing his glass at the television. "He won't die, will he? Even after those Audioslavian and Kingsforder crusades." Yet another bargoer concurred. "It's about time the Oglethorpians rounded up those wankers!"

Widespread Nationwide Police forces quickly prevented a possible nationwide descent into chaos by arresting scores of angry fans, possessed by a murderous hate of Alan Belmore and all his dopplegangers.

President Marvin Thomas expressed great need for all Alan Belmores in Oglethorpia to leave, lest they be lynched in the first showing of racial hate in Oglethorpia.

Bill Christmas sent to Gilmeecia

Another victim of the IGP, Bill Christmas, sent to Gilmeecia charged with Crime against humanity. He made several spelling mistakes in his international newspaper report including spelling doppelgangers "dopplegangers" and androgynous "androginous".

Bill Christmas sent to Gilmeecia

Another victim of the IGP, Bill Christmas, <has been> sent to Gilmeecia charged with Crime Against Humanity. He made several spelling mistakes in his international newspaper report including, spelling doppelgangers "dopplegangers" and spelling androgynous "androginous".

Unknown journalist handed over to the Grammar Police

An unknown Belmorian journalist has been singled out for arrest after he wrote an array of grammatical errors in a newspaper article. The author omitted the words 'has been' from his article, ironically just after another newspaper article concerned the 'has-been' Alan Belmore. The two words, as well as several capital leters, one comma, and the omission of 'spelling' where it should have been present, will lead to the execution of the journalist without trial.

This has been the probably-soon-to-be-arrested journalist Mike Belmore, for the Soundgardian on Sunday.

Bill Christmas sent to Gilmeecia

Another victim of the IGP, Bill Christmas, <has been> sent to Gilmeecia charged with Crime Against Humanity. He made several spelling mistakes in his international newspaper report including, spelling doppelgangers "dopplegangers" and spelling androgynous "androginous".

Unknown journalist handed over to the Grammar Police

An unknown Belmorian journalist has been singled out for arrest after he wrote an array of grammatical errors in a newspaper article. The author omitted the words 'has been' from his article, ironically just after another newspaper article concerned the 'has-been' Alan Belmore. The two words, as well as several capital leters, one comma, and the omission of 'spelling' where it should have been present, will lead to the execution of the journalist without trial.

This has been the probably-soon-to-be-arrested journalist Mike Belmore, for the Soundgardian on Sunday.

Mike Belmore-Where is your T?

Mike Belmore, reporter and fortune teller has been sentenced to 6 months in prison for Crimes against Humanity after only putting 1 T in the word letter. The nation of Audioslavia has also been condemned by the IGP for executing Stuart Mills for errors that were not errors (strange oxymoron) such as missing has been (it can be omitted if you are speaking conversational English), missing capital letters(The Words "against humanity" are not proper nouns) and omitting the word spelling (again, not needed in conversational English).

OOC: Note to self- Stop arresting WCC Citizens

The Crater
Bedistan's Tabloid News Source

National Guard Resists Turning Belmorian Over to IGP

The International Grammar Police, as well as several other nations, have fired themselves up once again. A Belmorian accusation of an Oglethorpian newspaper article was grammatically criticized by Audioslavian Mike Belmore. This was in turn corrected by an unknown Belmorian, and people from all over the world are being sent to Gilmeecia.

The Crater would like to point out additional errors in this publication before they are singled out by the IGP.

Mike Belmore-Where is your T?

Mike Belmore, reporter and fortune teller, has been sentenced to 6 months in prison for Crimes against Humanity after only putting 1 T in the word letter. The nation of Audioslavia has also been condemned by the IGP for executing Stuart Mills for errors that were not errors (strange oxymoron) such as missing has been (it can be omitted if you are speaking conversational English), missing capital letters(The Words "against humanity" are not proper nouns) and omitting the word spelling (again, not needed in conversational English).

And Mike Whidby of Oglethorpia's Widespread Nationwide Police (or the feds, if you prefer) will also resist turning the trillions of Alan Belmores* in for the following atrocities.

The Word is also not a proper noun.

Clem: Welcome back to the first half, as we’re set for the kickoff to begin the World Cup Ten championship. Urk takes the ball at midfield, passes to Kerrnigit, and we’re under way!

Lana: Shall I read the rosters?

Clem: Please do.

Lana: All righty. For Mr. Hurr’s squad, it’s all the usual suspects. In goal, Oog, long-time star of the Pre’istoric Football Club. The defenders: Aargh and Humm, Oog’s teammates with Pre’istoric FC, Quk of the Rentruk Rovers, an’ Thunk of Earl United. Wot insane li’le names they ‘ave.

Clem: True enough.

Lana: In the midfield, Kerrnigit an’ Poom from Marauding Football Club, an’ Krak an’ Gung from Earl United. A whole lot of experience, there.

Clem: Absolutely.

Lana: The strikers, Urk, all-time leadin’ scorer in World Cup play, ‘oo ‘ails from Marauding’ FC, an’ Phoot, ‘oo comes from Pre’istoric.

Clem: And speaking of Phoot, he passes to Kerrnigit, but the Lemming defense isn’t giving an inch at this stage of the game.

Lana: For the Lemmings, Mick Mickelson’s got an all-female squad, marking the first time an all-female side ‘as played in a World Cup final, I believe.

Clem: Probably.

Lana: The goalkeeper is Melanie Melsterson, ‘oo led the A-league these past two seasons for the Lemmington Vipers. She’s known popularly as “Mellifluous Mel.”

Clem: Ironically, she’s not the least bit mellifluous, if you know her personally.

Lana: Do you know ‘er personally, then?

Clem: No, not me personally. But I know people who know her personally.

Lana: An’ they say she ain’t mellifluous, eh?

Clem: Not in person, anyway.

Lana: Wull, mellifluousity’s a ‘ard thing to pin down on a person. Mebbe she’s mellifluous an’ mebbe she ain’t.

Clem: Mebbe.

Lana: The defensive four for the Lemmings-- the ones wot are shuttin’ down the Zucchinis so nicely, so far-- are Lim Loombacker, Lom Luggins, Lum Limpster, an’ Lambroche Lambwhacker. Lim an’ Lum play for Limmsburgh, an’ Lom an’ Lamb for Lemvoola.

Clem: I can’t tell who’s who out of the four of them.

Lana: It’s a difficult thing. In the midfield, Greta Lemlem, Millie Mellem, an’ Darla Lydon, known affectionately as the Sub-’uman. Lemlem comes from me old squad, the Lemco City Lions. Mellem plays for Lemmington, an’ the Sub-’uman ‘ails from the Lemwark Metropolitans.

Clem: How did Lydon get that nickname, anyway?

Lana: She’s Gilmeecian.

Clem: Ah.

Lana: Our strikers are Willette Lemjones of the Lemumbus Lemeyes, Trixitica Lemsmith from Ledmonton, an’ of course Lemco City’s own Josephine “the Lemming” Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador.

Clem: Lommetta Loompopple gets a foot on a pass from Poom to Urk, and Limmy Limpster gets control of it.

Lana: Thet was Luggins deflectin’ the pass, an’ Lambwhacker gettin’ control.

Clem: Thanks.

Lana: No problem.

Clem: You know, I’m usually the one correcting other people who don’t know who’s who.

Lana: Ironic, ain’t it.

Clem: Yep. Interesting, though, that I’m calling the game, instead of Lemmy doing it.

Lemmy: Whassat? Who said my name?

Clem: I did.

Lemmy: Oh, hey, Clem. What’s goin’ on?

Clem: Have you been zoned out?

Lemmy: Nnnnnope. Yep. Yes, I have been.

Clem: The game’s started. You’re supposed to be calling it.

Lemmy: Oh, I know man. I totally am.

Clem: You totally are supposed to be, or you totally are calling it?

Lemmy: Uhhh... Yeah.

Clem: Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador has it on the right side, and she passes to Lemjones.

Lemmy: Yeah. What he said, man.

Clem: When you add that ‘man’ to the end of that sentence, who exactly are you addressing with it?

Lemmy: Um. Man, Clem, you ask all the hard ones.

Clem: So? What’s the answer?

Lemmy: Uh. I’m addressing our listeners, man. In that particular case.

Clem: So you’re addressing our listeners as ‘man’?

Lemmy: Yeh.

Lana: Why don’t you just call the game, Lemmy?

Lemmy: Oh, totally. Lessee. I think we’ve got the ball.

Lana: Very good.

Lemmy: I mean, our bugs have the ball. The orange ones. Not the green ones. They’re the bad bugs.

Lana: So far, not too bad.

Lemmy: You know who that bug there with the ball looks like? It looks like Josephine, uh, Lemspooggenegger.

Lana: Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador.

Lemmy: And a double-plus gesundheit to you.

...

Clem: And the Lemming now in possession, after a nice steal by the Sub-Human assisted by the Lamb.

Lana: Wot a team of freaks.

Clem: You’re one to talk.

Lana: Heh. I say that only in the nicest possible way.

Clem: Me too.

Lana: I know. Otherwise I’d ‘ave to kick your ass.

Clem: And you could do it.

Lana: Speakin’ of people ‘oos ass need to be kicked, where the ‘ell ‘as Lemmy gone off to?

Lemmy: Here I am, man.

Lana: Where?

Lemmy: Over here.

Lana: Wot? Wot’re you doing back there?

Lemmy: Gettin’ ready for the game, man.

Clem: The game’s been on for twenty minutes, Lemmy.

Lana: You were callin’ it for a while. Before you sort o’ trailed off an’ Clem ‘ad to take over.

Lemmy: Oh, man, that nightmare? Don’t remind me.

Clem: I can understand your sitting in the back of the booth, Lemmy, but what exactly are you doing under the control console?

Lemmy: Dude, man, I’m totally not doing anything under here. It’s just where I’m sitting, you know?

Clem: Ohhh, I see.

Lana: Wot?

Clem: He’s eating a plate of brownies.

Lana: Aha. Special brownies, I presume?

Clem: One way to find out. Lemmy, can I have a brownie?

Lemmy: Um... sure, man. Share and share alike, right?

Clem: Thanks.

Lana: So?

Clem: It doesn’t affect you right away when you ingest it. Ask me again in, like, half an hour.

Lana: So I’m gonna be the only one in the booth ‘oo ain’t ‘igh.

Clem: Don’t say that!

Lana: Why not?

Clem: We’re not supposed to make reference to on-air drug use.

Lana: I think mebbe there ain’t supposed to be on-air drug use.

Clem: There always has been in the past. I don’t know what’s special now.

Lana: Lemmy, are you getting stoned under there?

Lemmy: No! I ain’t smokin’ nothin’, man!

Clem: Of course not. Everybody knows there’s no smoking allowed in the booth. Thus the brownies.

Lemmy: Don’t tell me you want another one, man. You’re a bottomless pit.

Clem: It’s all right. I’m mostly straight these days.

Lemmy: Oh, geez. I hope that doesn’t happen to me when I get old.

Clem: Hey, screw you.

Lana: Nice shot there by Lemsmith. Wrapped up by Oog. Still no score in the match.

...

Clem: So with the yellow card on Aargh for “prehistoric conduct”-- that’s an odd penalty, don’t you think?

Lana: Yep.

Clem: The Lemmings will have a kick from just outside the Zucchini box here in the waning minutes of the first half. The kick will be taken by Lemsmith, with a wall of Zucchinis in front of her, Lemjones to her left, and Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador to her right.

Lana: She’s gonna bend it right around ‘em, an’ into the goal.

Clem: You think so?

Lana: No.

Clem: She steps up, looking straight at Oog, draws backs for a rocket shot, and sends it to the Lemming! The Lemming moves to her right, and the defense follows-- she sends it far to the left, right over the defenders, somehow, and Lemjones is there, with a shot-- it’s in! Willette Lemjones with her third goal of the tournament, and what a time for it! Forty-two minutes into the first half of the championship match, and Lemjones puts the Lemmings up one-nil.

Lana: That was a lovely play. I wonder if Coach Mickelson planned the ‘ole thing, or thot Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador would take the shot?

Clem: And they’re doing that damned Lemming Dance again.

Lana: A pox on the Lemming Dance All-stars.

Clem: Too bad Lemmy passed out under the console. He seems to love the damn Lemming Dance.

Lana: Oo. Speakin’ of which, did those brownies turn out to be laced?

Clem: Oh, yeah. With some good stuff, too.

Lana: You know, it’s true. I can’t tell any difference in your commentary.

Clem: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: some can hold their own.

Lana: An’ some fall asleep underneath the control console.

Clem: Exactly.

Live from Giant Zucchiniland, this is Clem Gilson, the Dean of Lemmitanian sports, for the Lemmitanian Radio Network. It’s halftime at the final match of World Cup Ten, and the Lemmings lead the Zucchinis on a score of one-nil. With me in the booth is Lana Maelstrom to discuss the first half and the Lemmings’ fortunes for the second.

Lana: A solid , tightly-played match so far, Clem. Jus’ wot we’d expect from these two sides.

Clem: The lone goal came after a penalty kick by Trixitica Lemsmith just before time. A long pass across the box by Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador, and Lemjones was in the right place at the right time, putting it just past Oog.

Lana: In the first ‘alf, we saw four shots by the Lemmings an’ five by the Zucchinis. Melsterson ‘ad one particularly nice save around thirty minutes, when Urk beat Lom an’ Lamb an’ got free in the box. But with Lum bearin’ down on ‘im, ‘e ‘ad to rush ‘is shot by just enough that ‘e couldn’t position it as precisely as ‘e would ‘ave liked, an’ Melsterson dove about five meters to get a finger on it. Sent it just ‘igh enough to ‘it the crossbeam an’ deflect out of the net.

Clem: Other than that, no real serious chances. These defenses are tight, and both keepers are really on their game.

Lana: Yep. Shots for the Zucchinis by Urk at twelve, thirty-two, an’ thirty-seven minutes; Phoot at twenny-one minutes; an’ Kerrnigit at twenny-seven. For the Lemmings, shots by Lemmspoobagganaggatoratorreador at seventeen an’ thirty-nine minutes; Lemsmith at twenny-five; an’ the goal by Lemjones at forty-two minutes.

Clem: The halftime entertainment is under way on the pitch. Some sort of acrobatic act.

Lana: The Flyin’ Zucchini Brothers. It’s mos’ly trapeze.

Clem: Trapezes, you mean.

Lana: No, I think the plural of trapeze is also trapeze.

Clem: That can’t be right.

Lana: Or trapezoid, mebbe--

Clem: What’s that? Hey! Our mystery guest has arrived!

Lana: Good to see you! Wot? Put on a ‘eadset--

Grant: Of course, of course! ‘Ello, Lemmitania! Also, foreign listeners everywhere!

Clem: Grant Rockson, ladies and gentlemen! And in tow, Opie the gremlin. Do you want to put a headset on too, kid?

Grant: Oh, sure ‘e does. ‘Ere... I don’t care if you don’t wanna, we’re on the air ‘ere in front of forty billion listeners, you need to put a ‘eadset on an’ say somethin’ clever. I don’t care like wot. ‘ow about, “’i, Mom!”?

Opie: Hi, Mom.

Clem: The most enthusiastic greeting I’ve ever heard given to a mother. Speaking of whom, where is your mother, Opie?

Opie: I'm not supposed to say. And stop calling me Opie.

Clem: Oh, you don’t go by Opie anymore?

Lana: ‘e’s a big kid now, Clem. Wot sort of dopey ten-year-old would go by ‘Opie?’

Clem: So now you like to be called--

Grant: By ‘is full name.

Clem: Which is...?

Grant: Not to be said on the air.

Opie: Optimus.

Grant: Aagh! You’ve spilled the beans!

Optimus: So what?

Grant: Nobody’s supposed to know ‘oo your momma is!

Clem: Why not?

Optimus: He won’t say why not. But Mom and Dad don’t want anyone to know they’re married.

Lana: Mebbe they’re secret agents

Optimus: Yeah, right.

Clem: Maybe it has something to do with your inheritance.

Optimus: My what?

Clem: Everything your Dad inherited from Gil Lemson, that he’s going to pass on to you some day.

Grant: Don’t be silly, Clem.

Optimus: Why would Mom and Dad being married have anything to do with the money he got from Gil?

Clem: I don’t know. Your Dad could answer that better than me. Perhaps their marriage predates Gil’s death.

Grant: Don’t be silly, Clem.

Lana: That’s not important. Let’s talk about wot Optimus wants for Bejeezusmas.

Optimus: Sugarbombs!

Clem: If, for example, your folks were married before Gil died, then perhaps Gil’s death would annul the marriage--

Grant: Don’t be silly, Clem!

Lana: Stop talkin’ crazy talk, Clem.

Optimus: Also ginger snaps, sugar sticks, chocobricks and iced sugarwhips!

Clem: Or, if the marriage was never annulled, perhaps it would prove that Gil never actually di--

Grant: Don’t be silly, Clem!

Lana: That’s a whole lotta sugar, Optimus. Don’t you think mebbe you shouldn’t eat so much sugar all at one time?

Optimus: I’m not going to eat it all at one time. I’m gonna eat some of it on Bejeezusmas morning, and some of it after dinner!

Clem: ...or that Grant is actually Gi--

Grant: La la la la la la!

Clem: That’s one pathetic rendition of Deck the Bejeezus Halls there, Grant.

Lana: ‘e ain’t singin’. ‘e’s just coverin’ up the sound of you talkin’.

Clem: Yeah, I could tell. That was what you call sarcasm. Or what he calls fascism.

Grant: Did I say ‘oppy Bejeezusmas yet?

Clem: No.

Grant: ‘oppy Bejeezusmas, Lemmitania! Also foreigners.

Clem: Man, I hate Bejeezusmas.

Grant: You’re just a glinch, Clem.

Clem: So I hear.

Optimus: Is Clem who you based The Glinch who Ripped Off Bejeezusmas on, Dad?

Grant: ‘e sure is, son. Clem’s always rippin’ stuff off.

Clem: Shut up, you. Don’t let’s start brawling on front of your kid.

Grant: Okay, okay. Lemme jus’ remind you ‘oo the real Dean of sports is, though.

Clem: Who?

Grant: Gil Lemson.

Clem: Or Shemp Wooley.

Grant: Shemp? Ol’ Shemp Wooley? ‘e ‘asn’t been Dean of sports for mebbe twenny years. Plus ‘e’s dead.

Clem: No, he’s not.

Grant: Sure ‘e is. I went to ‘is funeral a couple years ago.

Clem: That was his ninetieth birthday party.

Grant: Was it? Wot was with the eulogies, then?

Clem: Those were toasts to his brilliant career.

Grant: Brilliant, right. If ‘e was so bloomin’ brilliant, ‘ow come they stripped ‘im of the ti’le ‘Dean of Lemmitanian sports’?

Clem: No one stripped him of the title. Gil stole the title after Shemp retired.

Grant: Wot?! Gil steal? ‘e never did! The courts stripped Shemp of the ti’le and awarded it to Gil!

Clem: You remember it however you want to, Grant.

Optimus: Clem really is a glinch, Dad.

Grant: Yes ‘e is, son.

Clem: Shut up, you!

Grant: Yikes!

Clem: What’s the matter?

Grant: I just noticed there’s a derelict asleep unner the control console!

Lana: That’s Lemmy. You oughta recognize ‘im.

Grant: ‘oo’s Lemmy?

Lana: Lemmy Meisterbrau. Played football for the Vipers an’ the Lemmings in the last Cup.

Grant: Huh. ‘oo, now?

Clem: Lemmy Atom.

Grant: Oh! Lemmy Atom. Is that ‘im under the console?

Clem: That’s what she said.

Grant: Wow, the years ‘ave been ‘arsh to ’im, ‘aven’t they? Just a couple years ago ‘e was playin’ professional football for the Lemmington Vipers, an’ now ‘e’s a derelict wino reduced to sleepin’ under consoles in broadcast booths. ‘ow the mighty ‘ave fallen, eh?

Clem: He works as a broadcaster for LRN.

Grant: not for long, once they learn ‘e’s ‘omeless an’ lives in one of their booths.

Clem: He’s working as commentator on this match.

Grant: Aha! I see now. Got so bored with the kick kick kick kick business that ‘e ‘ad to take a li’le nap unner the console, did ‘e?

Lana: ‘e jus’ et a ‘ole plate of Special Brownies, an’ ‘e’s sleepin’ it off.

Grant: It’s jus’ as well. There ain’t enough chairs for ‘im anyway.

Optimus: What are ‘Special Brownies?’

Clem: Those are brownies with so much sugar in them that they make you feel funny.

Lana: An’ pass out unner the control console.

Clem: Not if you can hold your own.

Lana: Or if you don’t eat a ‘ole plate of ‘em at once. Let that be a lesson to you, Optimus: eat some now, an’ save some for later.

Optimus: I already told you, I’m not going to eat it all at once. I’m gonna have some in the morning and some after dinner.

Grant: An’ then ‘e’ll pass out like Lemmy, if all goes well.

Clem: Or, more likely, he’ll be up for a week.

Lana: Wull, I see the sides are warmin’ up for the second ‘alf, which means we’re about to get under way an’ it’s time to break for some important messages.

Grant: An’ that means me an’ Optimus ‘ave to be goin’.

Lana: But you jus’ got ‘ere!

Grant: We ‘ave to catch a plane back ‘ome in time for Bejeezusclaws to crawl down our chimney an’ shove goodies into Optimus’ socks.

Optimus: Yeah, let’s go, Dad.

Grant: All right, all right.

Lana: ‘Bye, Grant. ‘Bye, Optimus. ‘oppy Bejeezusmas.

Grant: ‘oppy Bejeezusmas! It was good seein’ you all again.

Clem: Thanks for stopping by, Grant. Ladies and gentlemen, that was Grant Rockson and his son, Optimus. We’ll be back after this.

Department of Pedantry: There was an all-female team in WC2, whose name eludes me. Of course, they didn't win.

Department of Pedantry: There was an all-female team in WC2, whose name eludes me. Of course, they didn't win.

I believe it was the bikini-clad dumb blonde squad from DeLaShaw

Department of Pedantry: There was an all-female team in WC2, whose name eludes me. Of course, they didn't win.

Phooey: Clem's first Cup was 4. He never saw 2, so he wouldn't know.

Department of Pedantry: There was an all-female team in WC2, whose name eludes me. Of course, they didn't win.

I believe it was the bikini-clad dumb blonde squad from DeLaShaw

Yep it was DeLashaw, I remember that.

Department of Pedantry: There was an all-female team in WC2, whose name eludes me. Of course, they didn't win.

Phooey: Clem's first Cup was 4. He never saw 2, so he wouldn't know.

Oh, i assumed someone of Clem's brilliance would know all pertinent history. :wink:

Hey, dontcha hate it when you write a long, funny match report, capping a brilliant run to the highest honour in the world of pretend-sports, and some idiot niggletizes over one little throwaway remark by one character? OK, shutting up now.

When did Clem replace Gil?

When Gil died in WC8 or so.

Nominate your NationStates XI here: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2481774#2481774

The Bureaucratic Tribune

MAD EVISCERATOMATO HITS OGLETHORPIA
Evisceratomatoes fed with dead evisceratomatoes proven to be 'mad'

By Bill Christmas

OGLETHORPIA (BT) -- Research labs across the nation have reached a general concensus -- that evisceratomatoes distributed throughout the Bureaucratic States may be 'mad' after farmers in Oglethorpia fed their evisceratomato crops with parts of infected evisceratomatoes. While no mad evisceratomatoes have been found, the government is running extensive tests on evisceratomato exports to Tanah Burung -- as well as domestic shipments within the country. Said Preisdent Marvin, "if the ones going to the Belmore Family are mad, then all the better."

"Just kidding," he later added.

Oglethorpian Food, Drug and Food Administrative Association and Federation Director Mike Stumbles said that Oglethorpians -- and Tanah Burungians have nothing to worry about. "It's unlikely that it'll even make it past the FD&FAA&F tests -- so even if there is mad evisceratomato in Oglethorpia, it will not make it into the supermarkets. If, there even turns out to be any mad evisceratomatoes out there."

Local Consolidated FoodMart manager Pete Falls has no plans to pull any of his evisceratomato stock. "It's what the people want for dinner, after all. I trust the FD&FAA&F to make sure any mad evisceratomato doesn't make it to my store."

Oglethorpians in the shopping mall have the same sentiment. "They haven't even found a mad evisceratomato yet -- for all we know there may not be one. Just get the farmers to stop feeding evisceratomatoes to evisceratomatoes, and there's no problem anymore," said one mother of two-dozen.

More on the mad-evisceratomato situation as it comes.

Queldas Hikari - Rul Isio Nesuntel A Seserim

Orsentel Answers Challenge
Nikean FA President Accepts Oglethorpian Proposal of a Friendly
by Markenin Markenel

QUELDAS(NP) - When one asks any Nikean football fan about which match has been the most memorable for them in Nikean international football history, the majority points to the Nikea-Oglethorpia match at Solarin Stadium during qualifying for World Cup X.

"It was absolutely the worst game I have ever seen in my life," Liminesol resident Mirinen Kanestel. "All those forms, and that stupid Fuschia guy running onto the field and ruining the match. Thank god the players were smart enough to take off at half time."

When Yeserin Orsentel received word that Olgethorpian Football Director McDouglas wanted to play a friendly to put that horrible memory behind them, Orsentel was skeptical. "I really don't want to see that idiot McDouglas again," he was quoted as saying. "But if the WorstTeam wants to try and finally get a goal on us, the Pandas would be more than welcome to take up the challenge."

Nikean FA officials say the only thing that is delaying the match is that the World Cup rank of the Pandas, as well as every team, is completely unknown at this time. "We'd like to wait until we know where we're at before we dive into any matches," a senior FA official said. "Plus, we need to make arrangements for where and when the match will be held. But it definately looks like the match will happen, and then we'll show that WorstTeam and idiot McDouglas who the limeys are." It is strongly suspected that the senior FA official was actually Orsentel, but that is pure speculation.

George McDouglas read the Nikean paper excitedly -- but halfway through, a frown came over his face.

"I'm not an idiot." He looked up at his secretary and a few other government workers in the Association of Futebol/Football Office Complex. "Am I?"

No one said a word.

Clem: Lemsmith takes the ball at midfield, passes to Lemjones, and we’re under way for the second half. A couple of substitutions to note: Mr. Hurr has pulled Gung in favor of Zonk, a great forward with Alan City in Flying Belmore domestic play, who has limited international experience. And on the Lemmings’ side, Coach Mickelson’s seated Mellem and put in a fifth defender, Lemrick Muhaha of the Lemago Lembeasts.

Lana: An’ Lemrick bein’ a man pretty much dooms the Lemmings to defeat.

Clem: Sometimes men can play football well, too.

Lana: Heh. Yeah, right.

Clem: Just look at the Zucchini side! They’re all men.

Lana: They’re all vegetables.

Clem: Lots of the great Lemming players have been men. Lemmy, there, for example.

Lana: Wull, all I can say is, all those great man-players ‘aven’t managed to win a World Cup yet.

Clem: True, true.

Lana: Speakin’ of which, ain’t it about time Lemmy climbed up off the floor an’ joined us to earn ‘is keep for a while?

Clem: I’d say so.

Lana: You call the action for a bit while I go kick ‘im.

Clem: Sounds fair. Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador gets the ball, challenged by Thunk, and he gets a foot on it, a nice tackle. Thunk sends it to Krak, who passes upfield to Phoot. And Muhaha trying to stay with him. Phoot’s got some speed on him, and an excellent display of ball control as he danced left and right, looking for a shot past Muhaha. Now over to Urk.

Lana: Wake up!

Clem: Hey, don’t kill him, you know.

Lana: I ain’t.

Clem: How many times have you kicked him?

Lana: Six or seven.

Clem: I’d hate to be kicked by Lana Maelstrom, myself.

Lana: Yeh, well, ‘e don’t seem to agree with that sentiment. Oof! Seems to like it.

Clem: Now Zonk takes a shot, but it’s a bit off-target. Melsterson dives for it, but without even getting a hand on it, it’s wide. Everybody heads the other way as Luggins tosses it in to Melterson.

Lemmy: Hey, man, who’s been kicking me?

Lana: That’d be me, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Mama?

Lana: No, Lana.

Lemmy: Mama Lana?

Lana: Snap out of it, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Yowch! You didn’t have to kick me again, man.

Lana: Evidently I did ‘ave to kick you again. You look a li’le more cognizent now.

Lemmy: Yeah, I’m totally copacetic. Oh, begeez, I’m hungry. You guys ever get the munchies so bad you could eat a lemming?

Lana: You mean raw, with the ‘air still on it?

Lemmy: Yeah, man, I could totally eat, like, anything.

Lana: Too bad there’s no more brownies.

Lemmy: That’s what I always say, man.

Clem: Get up from the floor and eat something, then.

Lemmy: Oh man, you mean there’s food?

Clem: Have Clarence go get you something.

Lemmy: Oh. That’s cool.

Lana: For the edification of our listeners, Clem refers to Clarence, our statistician.

Lemmy: Clarence, can you go get me, like, some hot dogs or something? What do they eat in this country?

Clem: Vegetables, I think.

Lemmy: O Bejeezus!

Clem: What?

Lemmy: They are vegetables, man! This is a vegetable nation!

Lana: I find meself frankly shocked that you’re aware of that, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Oh, everybody knows about the Zucchinis. Plus I accidentally wandered out of the hotel this afternoon and saw ‘em. It was like Soylent Green or something.

Clem: Like Soylent Green? The Charlton Heston movie?

Lemmy: Yeah.

Clem: In what sense?

Lemmy: Soylent Green is people, man. In case you missed that.

Clem: Yeah? And...?

Lemmy: Well, if the Zucchinis eat vegetables, then that’s like people eating Soylent Green, isn’t it?

Clem: But how was that like what you saw when you went for a walk this afternoon?

Lemmy: Huh?

Clem: How was that like what you saw when you went for a walk this afternoon?

Lemmy: I went for a walk? When?

Clem: You just said-- oh, forget it.

Lana: ‘e’s baked, Clem.

Clem: He’s broiled.

Lana: Flambéd.

Clem: Char-broiled.

Lana: Incinerated.

Clem: Um... okay, you got me on that one.

Lana: Heh heh.

Lemmy: Look, there’s a bunch of bugs running around down there kicking a football! Hee hee hee! Man, that’s a riot!

Lana: Why don’t you tell us wot you see the bugs doin’, Lemmy?

Lemmy: I just did, Lana, man. They’re running around kicking a football!

Lana: Mebbe our listeners would like more details.

Lemmy: Man oh man! You guys are giving me such a pain. I didn’t wake up so I could call a friggin’ bugball game, man.

Clem: You better, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Why I better?

Clem: ‘Cause it’s your job.

Lemmy: I’m just glad I woke up in time for Bejeezusclaws.

Lana: It’s only six in the evenin’. You ‘ave hours an’ hours ‘til Bejeezusclaws comes.

Lemmy: I don’t mean when ‘e creeps down the chimney in the middle of the night. I mean when ‘e visits us ‘ere in the booth!

Lana: Bejeezusclaws ain’t gonna visit us in the booth.

Lemmy: What!? Bejeezusclaws cancelled on us?

Clem: What the hell is he talking about?

Lana: I dunno. Wot the ‘ell are you talkin’ about, Lemmy?

Lemmy: Bejeezusclaws! I’m talking about Bejeezusclaws.

Lana: Why would Bejeezusclaws be visitin’ us in the booth?

Lemmy: He’s the special mystery guest! Did you guys forget about the special mystery guest who’s gonna visit us?

Lana: Ohhh, right. I forgot. Lemmy thot Bejeezusclaws was gonna be the special mystery guest.

Clem: Oh, yeah. What a doofus.

Lemmy: Bejeezusclaws ain’t a doofus, man! He’s a horrible, misshapen demon who shoves goodies into your socks while you’re sleepin’!

Clem: That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.

Lemmy: No it ain’t.

Lana: Bejeezusclaws ain’t the mystery guest, Lemmy. The mystery guest already visited, at ‘alftime--

Lemmy: Oh no! Oh no! Oh nooo! I missed Bejeezusclaws! Help help help help hellllp!

Lana: The mystery guest was--

Lemmy: When did he leave? Did he just leave?

Lana: No, ‘e never left, ‘cause--

Lemmy: He never left? He’s still here? Where is he? Where is he? Is he still in the booth?

Clem: Not per se.

Lana: Do you see ‘im in the booth?

Lemmy: Is he in the hallway? Bejeezusclaws! Wait up, man-- yoiks!

Lana: Don’t forget to take your ‘eadset off before runnin’ out of the booth, Lemmy.

Clem: There he goes. Off to find Bejeezusclaws.

Lana: It’s loik a ‘eartwarming Bejeezusmas ‘special’ on the telly.

Clem: No it’s not. Don’t talk about those. I hate ‘em.

Lana: Yeh, me too. Look, Phoot’s jus’ scored a goal.

Clem: So he has. On a pass from Urk, and it was a nice shot through the Lemming defense. At fifty-eight minutes, we’re tied at one.

Lana: So Mr. Hurr’s substitution trumps Coach Mickelson’s. An’ we’re gonna see Muhaha come back out, an’ the attacking midfielder Clarissa “Kickles” Kiklem come on.

Clem: She plays a very “up” midfield for the Lemsylvania Flyers. Reminds a lot of people of a young Lana Maelstrom.

Lana: Yes, I ‘ave ‘eard that comparison as well. She plays a very aggressive game, as I did. Though I might say she don’t have the same power I ‘ad in me kick, I’d also credit ‘er as bein’ a more effective defender.

Clem: Agreed. You were practically a striker.

Lana: Lemsmith gettin’ set for the kickoff, an’ she gives it to the Lemming.

Clem: Josephine Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador takes it into Zucchini territory.

Lana: Now, I’ve been wonderin’ for a while, Clem, an’ mebbe as Dean of sports you’d know the answer to this: exac’ly wot kind of crazy name is “Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador,” any’oo?

Clem: I think it’s Lemwaiian. Or Liamese.

Lana: Oh. They still call thet country Liam? I thot it was Lailand, now.

Clem: Whatever.

Lana: Yeh, good point. Wull, the Lemwaiians do ‘ave some pretty wacky-soundin’ names, wot with all the vowels an’ the strangely limited number of consonants they make do wit’.

Clem: On the other hand, “Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador” isn’t really heavy on the vowels.

Lana: Some’ow, the “--torreador” at the end of the name makes it sound kind of Spanish.

Clem: And the “--tora--” would presumably be Jewish.

Lana: So wot’s “--spoobagganagga--?”

Clem: Hmm. Spoobagganagga... spoobagganagga...

Lana: Bagganagganagga.

Clem: Spoobagganagganagga.

Lana: Spoobagganagganagga.

Clem: Spoobagganagganagga! Spoobagganagganagga!

Lana: Spoobagganagganagga! Spoobagganagganagga!

Clem: Lemtoratoratora! Lemtoratoratora!

Lana: Spoobagganagganagga!

Clem: Lemtoratoratora!

Lana: Spootoranagganora!

Clem: Wait, wait, wait.

Lana: Wot?

Clem: Papa oom mow mow, papa oom mow mow!
Papa oom mow mow, papa oom mow mow!

Lana: Craziest sound I ever ‘eard,
Can’t understan’ a single word!

Clem: Papa oom mow mow, papa oom mow mow!
Papa oom mow mow, papa oom mow mow!

Lemmy: Hey, I’m back.

Lana: Did you catch up with Bejeezusclaws?

Lemmy: No, he must have already left. What’s with the singing, man? I thought you said that’s not allowed.

Lana: We ‘ave a special dispensation.

Lemmy: Ohhh... Like Gil?

Lana: Exac’ly. Too bad you missed Bejeezusclaws.

Lemmy: Oh, man. What crappy luck.

Clem: What difference does it make? It’s not like he was going to give you your goodies now, anyway. you have to wait ‘til midnight like all other little girls and boys.

Lemmy: Is that what he said? Did he say he was bringin’ me goodies? ‘Cause I don’t want chunks of asphalt again this year.

Lana: You got chunks of tarmac in your socks? Heh heh. Wo’d you do t’deserve that, then?

Lemmy: I dunno, man. But every year it’s the same thing. Instead of sugarshockers and chocowokkos, it’s broken concrete, or asphalt, or old worn-out linoleum.

Clem: Maybe you were an anti-Bejeezusite in a past life.

Lemmy: No way, man! I’d never do that.

Lana: ‘ow do you know wot you were in a past life, Lemmy?

Lemmy: ‘Cause I know, man. I’d never betray Bejeezus to the Beelzebubbers, even in a past life. Anyway, I went to a medium, and she checked it all out. In my past lives, I was mostly lemurs.

Clem: Hah.

Lemmy: What’s up with that “Hah,” man?

Clem: Just what I said. Hah.

Lana: You sound skeptical, Clem.

Clem: Oh, I’m skeptical, all right.

Lemmy: I was totally lemurs! And if you don’t believe me, I have an official certification. Somewhere in my wallet, here... hold on, man...

Clem: There’s no official certification of past lives.

Lemmy: Sure there is... hang on...

Clem: Who certifies past lives? That’s crazy.

Lana: Crazy or not, the Bejeezusians do that, Clem.

Clem: Out of crazy or not, I’d choose crazy.

Lana: Oh, me too.

Lemmy: Here it is, man. See? It says right on this card.

Clem: Hmm. “Current life: football star. Previous life: lemur. Past lives (in reverse order): steamroller driver; lemur; housewife; lemur; lemur; unidentified marsupial; lemur; chief lemur--” What the hell is ‘chief lemur?’

Lemmy: Chief of the lemurs, man!

Lana: That’s pretty self-evident, Clem.

Clem: “Chief lemur; potoroo; potato; lemur; lemur.” So in one of your past lives you were a potato, were you?

Lemmy: Yeah, that was a good one.

Lana: Very peaceful, I bet.

Lemmy: Oh, totally, man. Just lyin’ around in the ground, growin’ and stuff.

Clem: Until you get french-fried.

Lemmy: Well, yeah, that part sucked.

Clem: So you were never a lemming, huh?

Lemmy: No, well, in all my past lives, I lived in Audioslavia. I only migrated to Lemmitania for this one.

Clem: I see. And why is that?

Lana: So ‘e could play for the Lemmings, obviously.

Lemmy: Exactly.

Clem: Hey, you know what? I just thought of something.

Lemmy: What?

Clem: All this is crap.

Lemmy: Gimme my past-lives card back, man. You’re an infidel.

Clem: Here.

Lemmy: Man, Bejeezusclaws is gonna get you for talkin’ that way. ‘e’s gonna catch you, an’ send you to hell.

Clem: The hell he is.

Lemmy: The hell he is! And you’ll be sorry, too. Don’t you know anything about Bejeezus, Clem?

Clem: I know all too much about Bejeezusianity. That doesn’t mean I believe in any of that junk.

Lemmy: Since it’s Bejeezusmas Eve and all, lemme tell you the story of the Passion Play, and educate you to the truth of how Bejeezus went to hell for your sins, Clem.

Clem: He never did.

Lemmy: He did, man! Why d’you think he crawls down your chimney every Bejeezusmas?

Clem: He doesn’t.

Lemmy: Well, if Bejeezusclaws doesn’t crawl down your chimney every Bejeezusmas, who d’you think does?

Clem: Nobody crawls down my chimney, Lemmy.

Lemmy: Of course they do! Who d’you think shoves goodies in your socks?

Clem: The only thing that gets shoved in my socks is my feet.

Lemmy: You’re an infidel. You need to be reprogrammed.

Clem: See, that’s exactly the problem with religion. I don’t need to be programmed at all.

Lemmy: So, lemme tell you the Passion Play and then you’ll know all about the glory of Bejeezus. Now, in the beginning, the world was created, and there was light and dark, land and sea, man and woman, Beelzebub and Bejeezus. They were the Twin Beings who lived at the center of the Universe, in Heaven, and watched over the world, making sure good things happened and stuff. And then one day the man and woman started sinning, and Beelzebub called Bejeezus over and he said, “Listen man, we’ve gotta do something about all this sinning that’s going on. Someone’s gotta go down to hell and cleanse the world of all its wrongdoing.” And Bejeezus said, “All right, so go, then.” And Beelzebub said, “No way, man, I ain’t going to hell!” And Bejeezus said, “Well, I know you don’t think I’m going!” And for like, fifty years, that’s how it was.

But the sinning got worse and worse, as the woman started having babies and populating the earth with naughty humans, who also sinned, thus multiplying the sinnitude. And before long it became clear to the Twin Beings that something serious had to be done, and it wasn’t going to get done without one of ‘em going to hell. So Bellzebub, being the Senior Twin, sat and thought long and hard about it, and after another fifty years or so (during which time the sinnicism on the earth became so acute that even the blameless animals had started sinning), he came to his difficult decision. Late that night, while Bejeezus was sleeping, Beelzebub packed a trunk full of Heavenly Belongings, and prepared himself for the ultimate sacrifice.

In the morning, Beejezus got up and as usual, wandered into the bathroom in a half-wakeful haze, to use the can. And as you may know, there’s a long escarpment between Bejeezus’ room and the can,, and as he walked along it, he had a clear view all the way down to hell. And halfway across the escarpment, Bejeezus got the surprise of his life. ‘Cause Beelzebub kicked him right in the ass, sending him over edge of the escarpment, tumbling down down down to hell. And then hurled the trunk full of Heavenly Belongings after him, nearly crushing him.

Man, was Bejeezus pissed.

It took him a while to calm down, as you can probably imagine. He spent about a year doing nothing but screaming at Beelzebub in Heaven, raging against his Twin for betraying him and kicking him in the ass. But after a while he got control, and when he thought about it, he realized that as long as he was stuck in hell, he might as well make the best of it, and start planning an escape.

Now meanwhile, up in Heaven, Beelzebub was getting a major kick out of having the run of the place. For the first time in his eternal existence, he could watch whatever he wanted on the TV without having to argue with Bejeezus about it; and he could eat what he wanted, when he wanted, without having to argue with Bejeezus about it; and he could rent out Bejeezus’ room, and man, if you think the rents are high in Lemmington, they ain’t nothing compared to the rents in Heaven, man. And Bejeezus wasn’t even there to complain about it like the last time Beelzebub rented his room out to someone! So Beelzebub got to thinking how great it was having Heaven all to himself, and he decided that when Bejeezus was done cleansing the world of its sins down in hell, he was gonna think up some devious way to keep Bejeezus from getting back into Heaven.

Of course, down in hell, cleansing the world of its sins was the last thing on Bejeezus’ mind. All he was worried about was finding a way to escape from hell. And he went through a whole buncha plans before he found one that worked. First, he tried constructing ladders, so as to climb up out of the fiery pits, but there wasn’t much good building material in hell. He tried making ‘em out of the bones of the doomed, but back in those days the world was young and there weren’t too many doomed actually in hell, and Bejeezus only managed to make a ladder about three stories high out of their bones. And I don’t know if you’ve ever been to hell, but lemme tell you, it’s a lot deeper than three stories high.

So then he tried using the trunks of hellpalms, but they kept catching on fire (on acount of being made of wood), usually right when Bejeezus was halfway up ‘em, which meant that A) Bejeezus would get seriously burned, and B) he’d then fall halfway down hell, again, and after eight or nine tries, he gave up on that. Then he got the idea to try making a catapult out of hellpalm trunks, and fling himself out of hell, but when he loaded himself into the basket and pulled the lever, he got flung right into the wall, like if Wiley Coyote or somebody had done it. Smack! So he didn’t try that again.

Now, as you may have guessed, Bejeezus ended up spending an inordinate amount of time in the hospital while he was in hell, on account of all the injuries he kept sustaining. And as is natural, after a while he struck up a nice relationship with a friendly nurse. I mean, he was down there for forty years, you know, and prolly went to the hospital a hundred and fifty times. So this nurse, who was named Mary, got to feeling pretty sorry for the poor guy. “You’re one of the Twin Beings, the Ultimate Powers in the Universe,” she said to him one day. “I think it’s just a crying shame that you’re stuck down here in hell while Beelzebub is up there screwing around in Heaven and earth goes to pot.” And she started hatching a plan to help get him out of there.

So one day, while Bejeezus was in the ICU after getting impaled on a javelin he’d tried to fling out of hell (while it was tied to a rope, which he hoped would pull him along after the javelin, which ironically reversed direction when it reached the end of the rope, thus coming right back at his screaming face), Mary came up to him and said, “You see that laundry bin over there?” And she pointed out a big bin of bloodstained scrubs and stuff. “That’s going to be sent to the earth for washing, ‘cause they don’t have any bleach in hell. Everything that gets sent to the earth is inspected for escapees, but with all the bloody gunk in that load, no one’s going to want to touch it, and you’re all bloody yourself, so if you hide in the bottom of the bin, you could probably get snuck right out of hell, if you want to.” And Bejeezus sure as hell wanted to. So Mary helped him into the laundry bin.

And there he waited, curled up beneath the bloody scrubs, until the laundry company came to get the bin. And sure enough, as Mary had predicted, nobody was too keen on poking around in all that bloody gunk, and they didn’t notice that some of the bloody gunk was actually Bejeezus. And so Bejeezus was transported right out of hell.

Of course, he was pretty horrible scarred from all the burnings, and the javelin accident, and all the other things that had happened to him during his forty years of escape attempts, and so when he arrived on earth, instead of being a Vision of Beauty (as he had been in Heaven), he was a horribly disfigured demon. And realizing this, (and also realizing that once Beelzebub found out he’d escaped from hell he’d be a marked Being), he decided that he’d better take on a new identity. And so he named himself Bejeezusclaws, and he built a Fortress of Solitude at the North Pole. And in time, a band of wandering exiled elves happened across the fortress, and Bejeezusclaws waged a horrible war against them for nearly a thousand years. The elves called him “Morgoth,” by the way, which in the elvish language translates to “Santa.”

But in the end, the elves sued for peace, and Bejeezusclaws, being weary of strife, agreed to terms. And as a result, the elves moved in with him in the Fortress, paying a nominal rent and working for minimal wages in his gigantic sugar factory. And on the day they signed their historica treaty, it was decided that Bejeezusclaws should travel ‘round Lemmitania, crawling down people’s chimneys, and shove goodies from the sugar factory into any socks he could find.

And that, my friends, is the story of Bejeezusmas.

Hey, man, where’d all the bugs go?

Clem: Game’s over, Lemmy.

Lana: The Lemmings are World Cup Ten champions!

Lemmy: Oh, good.

Clem: On a goal by Lemspoobagganaggatoratorreador in the seventy-seventh minute. We’ve been celebrating for the past ten minutes.

Lana: We’re about to go down to the locker room and join the squad.

Lemmy: Arright, man. I think I’ll wait up here in case Bejeezusclaws comes back.

Clem: Yeah, you do that, Lemmy. From Giant Zucchiniland, this has been Lana Maelstrom, Lemmy Atom, and Clem Gilson for the Lemmitanian Radio Network.

...Mr. Hurr has pulled Gung in favor of Zonk, a great forward with Alan City in Giant Zucchini domestic play...

Erm...Alan City is actually a Belmorian club.

...Mr. Hurr has pulled Gung in favor of Zonk, a great forward with Alan City in Giant Zucchini domestic play...

Erm...Alan City is actually a Belmorian club.

You have a Belmorian player on your squad?

EDIT: fixed.

...Mr. Hurr has pulled Gung in favor of Zonk, a great forward with Alan City in Flying Belmore domestic play...

Holy crap Lemm, your myth of the Twin Beings was great.

Nice LoTR reference too ;)

...Mr. Hurr has pulled Gung in favor of Zonk, a great forward with Alan City in Giant Zucchini domestic play...

Erm...Alan City is actually a Belmorian club.

You have a Belmorian player on your squad?

EDIT: fixed.
Well sort of, untill one Alan Belmore went into management he played for Marauding FC (Champions League 3 winners making Alan Belmore the only player to win 2 Champions Leagues!)

The nation of Audioslavia has also been condemned by the IGP for executing Stuart Mills for errors that were not errors

really? well lets see :)

such as missing has been (it can be omitted if you are speaking conversational English)

which you werent ;)

missing capital letters(The Words "against humanity" are not proper nouns)

and 'Crime' is? If you spell 'crime' with a capital letter then 'against' and 'humanity should also have capital letters. It should have been either 'Crimes Against Humanity' or 'crimes against humanity'. Oh, and like Beddy said, 'The Word' is not a proper noun :p

and omitting the word spelling (again, not needed in conversational English)

...but it is needed when you arent typing in a conversation :P

OOC: Note to self- Stop arresting WCC Citizens

there is also a mistake here, it should read "Stop arresting WCC Citizens, especially if they study English at university" ;)

note to self, remember to never let it slip that i study English Literature, which has nothing to do with being able to spell

A whole lot of rubbish
We believe that writing a newspaper is having a conversation with all our readers,

Alistair Campbell, Media Communications, The Daily Belmorian

About 10 spelling errors

You know it's a good feeling being better at spelling than someone 5-6 years older than you.

A whole lot of rubbish
We believe that writing a newspaper is having a conversation with all our readers,

Alistair Campbell, Media Communications, The Daily Belmorian

a bit of a one-sided conversation then ;)

We believe arguing with TBF is like having a conversation with our feeters

Ali Al Campbell, Alquieda (sp?) Communications, The Dali Lama

About 10 spelling errors


oh please continue :)

Spelling & Grammar errors=

The nation of Audioslavia has also been condemned by the IGP for executing Stuart Mills for errors that were not errors

Really? Well lets see :)

such as missing has been (it can be omitted if you are speaking conversational English)

Which you weren't ;)

missing capital letters(The Words "against humanity" are not proper nouns)

And(Never start a sentence 'Crime' is? If you spell 'crime' with a capital letter then 'against' and 'humanity should also have capital letters. It should have been either 'Crimes Against Humanity' or 'crimes against humanity'. Oh, and like Beddy said, 'The Word' is not a proper noun :p

and omitting the word spelling (again, not needed in conversational English)

...but it is needed when you aren't typing in a conversation :P

OOC: Note to self- Stop arresting WCC Citizens

There is also a mistake here, it should read "Stop arresting WCC Citizens, especially if they study English at university" ;)

note to self, remember to never let it slip that I study English Literature, which has nothing to do with being able to spell

You're still going to vote for me as host though, aren't you?

and heres me thinking that i made ten spelling errors :p

capital letters arent necessary for forumposts TBF, neither is good spelling tbh, it only matters if you spell stuff wrong on an RP.

i also mixed up and missed off a load of ' and " marks, but you didnt pick up on them did you :P

EDIT: oh wait, yes you did :/ did you notice my fingers werent in the correct position on the keyboard too :p

vote for you? only if i think your the best man/boy for the job...

and heres me thinking that i made ten spelling errors :p

capital letters arent necessary for forumposts TBF, neither is good spelling tbh, it only matters if you spell stuff wrong on an RP.

i also mixed up and missed off a load of ' and " marks, but you didnt pick up on them did you :P

EDIT: oh wait, yes you did :/ did you notice my fingers weren't in the correct position on the keyboard too :p

vote for you? only if i think your the best man/boy for the job...

How hard is it to press the ' button? You don't even need shift!

I've proved myself (with the FHWC and the Champions League) to be better than anyone the others that I have lost to.

The War on Errorism: the first time as comedy, the second as farce.

Spelling & Grammar errors=

[quote=The Belmore Family]The nation of Audioslavia has also been condemned by the IGP for executing Stuart Mills for errors that were not errors

Really? Well lets see :)



TBF, even your corrections are wrong. It should be "Really? Well, let's see :)"

How hard is it to press the ' button? You don't even need shift!

Indeed.

WCX will be ending soon, and you may continue bickering in the chat thread. Oh, wait, WCX already ended. So maybe the bickering should be moved to the chat thread post-haste.

The War on Errorism: the first time as comedy, the second as farce.

i couldnt agree more

Bickering in the Chat Thread? Nope. Bicker in the Bickering Thread!

There's always bickering!

It's just TBF brings more to the plate than most people.

My humblest apologies for being away and missing the end-of-Cup excitement... I might just post anyway, a little late. :)

OOC: The one time I’m away during the quarter-finals, I actually win the damn things. . . I ALWAYS lose them! Anyway, amidst all I need to catch up on, a quick rp. By the way, nice rp, ORD! We’ll try to keep outraged citizens from throwing stones at the embassy. . . ;)


IC:
One Red Dot v. Ariddia


GK: David al-Jibai (11)
DEF: Yves Sylvain (9), Wn Wahd (20), Rod Schwarzwald (13), Wesley Davidson (1)
MID: Luc N’tula (12), Jules Andes (19), Luke Wu (15), Samuel Pasteur (8 )
ATT: Aurélien Clair (22), Tiffany Edge (23)


Terry Singh (commentator): “The moment they were striving for. History is upon us. And there were lots of other titles like that in the newspapers when Ariddia hit the semi-finals. We may have lost, but I don’t think the supporters were too disappointed.”

Kim Kim (commentator): “No, the important thing was to get to the semis. I’m only sorry Ranjit wasn’t there to play.”

Singh: “I’m sorry you and me weren’t there to play!” (OOC: Singh was a player in the team’s early days, including the WC1 squad. Kim was forced to leave after a train accident left her with crippled legs. Ranjit Khan resigned earlier in WC10 due to age and health problems.). “Anyway, forget about the final, they still have a chance to be in the top three.”


[1st minute]
Singh: “Wu. . . Pasteur. . . Davidson. . . The team have gained control and are constructing, not letting the Dotties snatch it away. They need to move into opponent territory, though. . . Done, with N’tula! He passes through to Wu. . . Well intercepted by ORD.”

Kim: “Still, the Ariddians look as though they want more than the honour of having reached the semis. Now they’re here. . .”

Singh: “They won’t go down easily. People have been saying the team’s skill has faded over the years. Now perhaps they can be proved wrong.”


[20th minute]
Kim: “ORD force a corner. It’s shot, and right on Sylvain’s head. . . No, it’s at the feet of. . . al-Jibai shoots it right away from between the man’s feet!”

Singh: “A bit desperate, but well saved. . .”


[37th minute]
Kim: “Clair pierces their defence! He really is the young revelation of this team. He shoots. . . It’s saved, only just, but the keeper couldn’t keep it. I mean control it. Defence has it. . . Pasteur tackles, passes to Edge. No, it’s intercepted. . . Edge has it back. . . The Dotty supporters must be on the edge of their seat! And the Ariddians, come to th- She shoots, and. . . it’s in!!”

Singh: “That’ll be good for diplomacy.”

Kim: “What?”

Singh: “A West Ariddian scoring for Ariddia in the match for the third place.”

Kim: *laughs* “I suppose so. I think most people will just be glad she scored, no matter which of the islands she’s from. Never mind that she’s a cappy. (OOC: capitalist) Thank you, Tiffany!”


[52nd minute]
Singh: “He wouldn’t. . . He would! It’s a long shot, but it’s damn powerful! Al-Jibai blocks it with his hands, fumbles. . . knocks it to Wahd with his head! Wahd looks a bit startled, but he reacts well, clears it.”


[64th minute]
Singh: “Ariddia has been kept at bay from the ORD goalkeeper. . . Wait, there’s. . .”

Kim: “N’tula, off to the side! If they could just. . .”

Singh: “They do; Clair passes to him, it’s a sharp angle but. . . He tries it!”

Kim: “And it’s a goal! An impossible goal but it’s in!”


[94th minute]
Singh: “Well, they made it to third. How’s that for a nice result.”

Kim: “They made it to third!!” *leans over to hug Singh* “This is something the team and all the supporters have been waiting for for soo long. . .”

Singh: *hugs her and grins* “Well, catch us again in the next Cup. And congratulations to all Dottians for a match well played. Good night!”


Final score
One Red Dot 0 Ariddia 2
Goals: Edge (38th), N’tula (64th)

I've just spent my lunch break reading possibly the best WC final RP ever and will be getting my ribs put back soon! :wink:


A very belated Congratulations to Lemmi!
See what happens when you get rid of the hellmouth!

BUMP to save this from being purged