Not to go all Greggggggg on Marvin Lewis, but punting twice in your opponents’ territory in the 1st quarter in a playoff game is some pussy conservative pro coach bullshit. He deserved to lose for that.
The Chefs tried to cook up a nice warm bowl of Horse Stew but ol Tiny Hands couldn’t operate all the complicated kitchen utensils properly and their coach was too busy demanding BBQ to give everyone the right directions.
Long story short- this game was one giant Kitchen Nightmare for KC fans
Things weren’t always fun & games for Mayor McFathump. During the great Munchkin Wars with Oz he had a duty to his people to ingest every enemy captured. The first few dozen went down easy, but as the hundreds, nay thousands, of LPOWs were brought to his doughy court, he began to run out of steam.
Then the mayor had an idea. He had an awful idea. He had a wonderful, awful idea!
“LET US DEEP FRY THEM!” he exclaimed, with little shoes dangling from his engorged gullet.
So the sheepish people of Fat Hump began battering the munchkins, ignoring their helium pitched cries for mercy. After a dozen or so of the greasy munchkin tots, he grew tired of the salty taste of deep fried child impersonators. He longed for something more. Something greater, something sweeter, something…. powdered.
“Begin the sugaring…” he said, as he raged his way through his 3rd minor stroke in as many hours.
Soon the munchkins were not only deep fried, but caked in powdered sugar. The Mayor began ingesting them one after another. Then two at a time. Three on a kabob, even! The mountain of sugar was so great that even the Chubbly Wubblies of the mighty Redskin Kingdom stood in awe in the presence of Mayor McFathump! The great hordes of Dallas Starpeople had never seen a pile of white powder stacked so high! It was truly a miraculous sight to behold…
And at the bottom of it lay a bloated, half coherent and severely parched Mayor McFathump. His once magnificent kingdom stood in ruin, insulin needles strewn about… For he had forgotten who was the enemy and who was dinner. The people of Fat Hump who did not run were devoured, some deep fried, some sugared, some washed down with the left over milk from a bowl of sugar smacks.
On this sad day a lone traveler appeared. Some say he hailed from the land of Ten Seas, but really no one knows for sure. He dropped his DirecTV gym bag, wiped a gallon of sweat from his mighty forehead and extended a helping hand to the Mayor. He then said to him, “Sir, while you have tasted glory it cost you your mighty kingdom, let us rebuild this house and we shall taste that glory again. Together.”
“Well, you know why we still have Marvin Lewis. I mean, look I’m not a racist, I have a black friend. I hung out with black guys in college, but come on. I mean okay look, I’m not going to say ‘black’ anymore. I’ll go with Afro-American. Okay so, wait let me get another beer. Alright, Marvin is still here because he’s an Afro American coach. Okay? No offense.”