Hey All - here's a story i came up with inspired by the winter season to entertain some of my Redskin-Fan friends exiled here in Philly. Hope it's enjoyed. I'll be at the game on Jan 1 but don't expect to see many Iggs fans.
skinsrule!
it was a chilly night in late December. The icy grip of winter had taken hold and all the commonfolk were slumbering wrapped tight against the cold. A small lighted window could be discerned glowing warm in the ebon pitch that mysteriously seemed to melt the icicles grown long over the window's edge. Moving closer one could peer through the rime and see into a small room with what appeared to be a solstice wish list affixed to the wall. 14 items were crossed out leaving just 2 more and a question mark on the bottom. To one side a bleary eyed man stared at the bank of computer screens and video monitors arrayed around him. A closer look revealed the esteemed gent to be none other than Gibbs the Master hunkered down in a forest of x's & o's.
slumber gradually overtook the Master and a ghostly visage arose. Remember the run! The spectre spoke. And bring airhorns. The diesel runs again. Time flows backward and we see the ghost as a youth breaking the Kansas schoolboy record for the 100 yard dash. Back to the present and the apparition fades away with a moaning riggoooooooooooooooooo!
the Master stirs and wakes enough to jot down a few notes, not sure if the vision was real or imagined. Drowsing again another phantom materializes but moves so quickly its identity is difficult to make out. The ghost speaks. Remember the run! it howls, but once the line is stacked go long and I will be there. The ghost-imp, so small and so quick that its features are not revealed, exits through the tiniest crack in the hoar crusted window and disappears with a whoosh.
Gibbs starts awake and rubs his eyes, upset that he has lost another chunk of valuable time to Morpheus' pull. But is he in the material world? He sees another wraith, but this time a fresh-faced, strong-armed youth sporting a gown with the letters JC. Could he be THE JC? Is he the savior? The youth speaks. Oh great Gibbs, you have shown us the evil in our ways but our path is now clear. Use your genius to lead us to the steps of the promised land and I will bring my people and all will bow down before you and praise you and heap accolades of all kinds upon your being. With a scramble to the right the ghost vanished with a quick release.
Gibbs the Master was left humbled. I work not for glory or riches but to see the happy faces of my followers and to enlighten others about THE WAY! Another life stirred but not from the other world like the others. The creature was a gnat. Gibbs swatted the gnat aside sending it to its death and ending up a splatted stain next to a squeek toy of a once proud bald bird. As if on cue, the squeaky bird deflated. Gibbs wondered again if all this was real and went back to the work.
A Solstice Tale
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