Little Johnny spend much of his life in school knowing nothing but pain inflicted by the bullies due to their sadistic tendencies. Each day the methods the bullies use would range from annoying to painful, seen as harmless by the eyes of the school principal to a "nusiance that should be ignored and they'll go away". Each day nothing was done and the bullies starts beating the poor kid to a pulp for "squealing" on them. Little Johnny would begin to lose hope when a black guy shows up and said, "Yo kid, are you alright?"

He looked up and said, "No...bullies are mean to me and no one in the school want to help me...I don't want to live!"

The stranger slaps him and said, "What are you? A girl? You need to stand up for yourself and forget the crappy rule that the schools has for a while to protect bullies."

Johnny nodded and said, "But what if they beat me up even worse?"

The stranger gives him a card and said, "Just chant 'Rice' three times and I will come!" as he walks away.

"Huh?"

The next day, the bullies were pummeling Johnny even worse than before because someone "ratted" them out for smoking in the hallway and they assumed it was him. After using Johnny's head as an ash tray, the kid took out a card and said "Rice" three times...but nothing happened!

"Who are you talking to? Your imaginary friend?" one of the bullies laughed.

Then suddenly, the bully started to scream as his head was crushed like an egg.

The rest of the bullies backed off and one of them screamed, "RAY RICE?!"

Ray Rice is a star runningback for the Baltimore Feathered Browns and was celebrating his team's Super Bowl win when he learned of a bullied victim who was beaten to coma and ultimately passed away. Since then, Rice vowed that actions will be taken against bullies so kids can go to school and learn in peace (well, except for the bullies).

"Damn you Ray Rice, how dare you getting in our way?" one of the bullies yelled.

"I can't stand a jock like you foiling our plans!" the other yelled.

Ray Rice grinned and said, "I did say that actions will be taken and this time it's not going to be a cheap two day suspension by that soft ass principal of yours...it's time for you to know the pain you have been dishing!" as his flaming red aura burst out of nowhere.

Johnny looked up from the ground and had no idea what just happened, it seems that Ray Rice just powered up!

"T-this can't be!"

"SSJ GOD? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT?"

The bullies didn't have the time to wonder how Rice has a saiyan heritage let alone pulling off the feat without a help from five other saiyans to fill the requirement to unlock the god mode as they were massacred, not a single cell of them would remain.

The SSJG football player would help Johnny up and said, "You okay kid?"

"Yes, thanks sir...but why didn't you use that form in the previous playoff games?" the kid asked before getting his head flicked off.

"Shut the fuck up kid!"

We were at the bar when a kid was being interviewed after losing to Takuto, the overwhelming tournament favorite who came out of nowhere to take the league by storm. The kid didn't seem to mind and said, "I will be back next year at the Unova League!"

"After so many failures after your victory at the Orange League, do you believe that you can finally end your championship drought at the Unova League?" the reporter asked.

"I have a feeling that it will finally happen and even if I do lose the next time out, I will still continue my journey so I can one day become a Pokemon master!"

I chuckled and said, "Maybe when the world ends."

Then the bartender came and said, "How long are you going to stay in the bar? You could go home and watch it there."

"I like watching it at the bar." I said.

"You're not even supposed to be here after what happened last year when you assaulted the writer of Forbes magazine, Tom Van Riper." he growled.

"He got what he deserved." I said as I took out an issue of Forbes magazine to show the bartender the article he wrote recently and continued, "Look at what he wrote! Sometimes I wonder if Forbes hired that guy to incite some readers to get extra attention."

"Why did you buy a copy if you have in issue with one of their writers? You do realize that you're helping Forbes to pay the man's salary right?"

"Never mind that, just take a look at what he just wrote!" I said.

The bartender then said, "Alright, alright, I'll take a look, but you could have look it up from the internet instead of buying a copy."

I almost gagged at the thought...I hate "what shoulda been done", it makes me feel like crap. I took a deep breath and said, "As I said before, never mind that...the headline should be enough to make you cringe, seriously!"

Not long afterward, the bartender tore the page right out of the magazine and lit it on fire with his lighter. After much of the page was burnt, he shook the burning paper to put the fire out and much of the burnt remains of the magazine page flew onto my face and I wiped them off. I hand the magazine over to the bartender and said, "See? Now you understand why, even if punching him in the face was a dick move but...do you really have to tear the page out of the magazine and light the page on fire?"

The bartender sighed and said, "Then you probably shouldn't have shown the article to me since there's NO WAY I WOULD STAY CALM AFTER READING THAT LOUSY PIECE OF SHIT!" as he proceeds to tear the rest of the magazine apart.

Some of the patrons were startled and I heard one of them said, "What the hell?"

"There are some good articles in the other parts of the magazine you know..." I sighed.

Later that day, some of my friends came in.

"Hey, Dennis! Thanks for saving the table for us!"

"It wasn't easy Rob." I said.

Then I heard the bartender yell, "You guys better not cause trouble like what happened last time, the whole thing nearly escalated into something out of NHL and we're lucky that Sean Avery was in the restroom at the time when you..." he pointed right at me, "...punched the writer of that magazine and his friends got up and then suddenly it turned into a mess!"

"It's not going to happen this time, I promise!" I said.

The bartender then shook his head and went back to clean the mug.

I remember what happened that day and he was right, Sean Avery would have jumped in to get involved for the hell of it. But the truth is that the situation that started the mess was kind of weird. When I punched Tom Van Riper in the face, he stumbed backward onto a shelf, knocking over some wine bottles that were stacked on top and they all roll off with each one hitting the guy in the head like something out of a cartoon. It's still amazing how none of the bottles broke since they're not even made with plastic glass...must have been a really strong glass, even if it's half an inch thick.

But then his friends got up from their table and one of them said, "You bastard, we won't let you get away with this!" and shoved me onto the table right behind me. Then my friends got up and one of them jumped the guy who shoved me and then the whole thing quickly grew out of control. Later on, once it was over nearly everyone became all beat up and worn when Sean Avery got out of the restroom and yelled, "WHAT DID I MISS?"

I could tell he was upset that he missed the action and the bartender was upset because...well...we trashed the bar.

It turns out that not only the bottles knocked the Forbes magazine writer out cold, the trauma to the head caused him to lose memory of what happened so he didn't remember who hit him. However, his party agreed not to sue the bar as long the guy responsible for the mess gets banned and that was me...but that doesn't stop me from coming however and there wasn't much he can do aside from refusing my order anyway.

"Have you seen the Pokemon battle today?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious who's going to win." said Rob.

"I know, that guy has legendaries, if he loses then the match would have to be fixed as hell!" said Justin.

"So who are you going to draft in Yahoo! Sports Pokemon Fantasy League? You have the top pick after all." asked Rob.

"I'm going to draft Takuto, with the stacked roster like that, it should garner tons of points for me. Gym leaders can wait until the second round since there will be tons of them left once I get there anyway." I answered.

"Speaking of Takuto, do you think he might have been feeding his roster some performance enhancing candies?" asked Rob.

I shook my head and said, "I doubt it...then again I really hope not because I met the guy few months ago, he seems to be an okay dude though I wasn't aware that he has such a stacked roster."

"You'll never know, I mean there are people who took the performance enhancing drugs and still look and seem normal. You can never really judge a book by its cover."

"True, I didn't really expect Andy Pettitte to have taken one when he was named on the Mitchell's Report. Clemens on the other hand, I can't say that I'm surprised since it does explains a bit...just surprised that David Ortiz wasn't named however and few years later, exposed."

Juan said, "Okay, enough with the talk, how far do you think this kid, Satoshi...though he called him 'Ash' for convienence, well how far do you think he will go on the Unova League?"

"When's the last time he won anything? He's pretty much one of the biggest choke artists in the history of Pokemon battles!" I said.

Then I continued, "His strategies are suspect and he finds a way to lose matches that he could have easily won. I know I couldn't hold the Takuto game against him, he has no chance but it doesn't excuse his previous defeats, it's ridiculous!"

"Three hundred bucks that he won't even get enough badges in time to even qualify!" answered Rob.

I said, "I'm betting five hundred dollars that he'll make it to the semi-finals again and loses to some random god-mode dude in a blowout fashion."

Then the person next to me said, "Seven hundred bucks that he won't even make it out of the preliminaries!"

Then Jim Fassel came and said, "I am raising the stakes right now. If this is a poker game, I am shoving my chips right in the middle of the table...anybody who wants out, can get out. This kid will make it back to the Pokemon League and out of the preliminaries, okay? This young Pokemon trainer will collect all eight badges in time to qualify in the Unova League and will go past the preliminaries!"

"So Jim, when are you going to get a coaching job again?" I asked.

"Sooner or later," answered the former NFL head coach.

"They can't blacklist me any longer, I will get that head coaching job again and I'm willing to bet everything I have that it will happen!"

Part 2!

Collecting Newgrounds flash medals may seem like an easy work, but it's not. Trust me, I've been doing this for years and it really depends on the flash games themselves. It's a cutthroat business in which sometimes you can get ripped off, you really don't make that much money that way as you'll know why.

Medal hunting is a illegal business as it is forbidden for people to pay someone to help them rack up some medals they have trouble earning themselves. Believe me, I know someone who tried it, Trevor however wasn't good at keeping things discreet and in the end he was busted by the voting police (I didn't know they existed until that day). Not that Trevor was much of a medal hunter anyway.

I dabbled in a dangerous underground job myself, but unfortunately, finding customers isn't easy as I'm not one of the people who has over 100,000 total medal points. In fact I'm currently suck in 80,000 due to some issues going on with some of the medal games right now. Some games have medals that can be earned way too easily, resulting in complaints because some people just couldn't appreciate the good things that were handed to them on a silver platter. Then there's the fact that some of the medals on the new games doesn't register onto the page despite being unlocked on the game page.

Goes to show you that there are flaws in the medal system.

But a while ago I had a customer who was desparate to get a medal so he came to me because all other medal hunters were booked. Well, what happened was that this kid (whose name will be withheld for his safety) had some trouble earning a medal from the game called, "Where's Derpy?" which is a fan made flash game of "My Little Pony". The kid had trouble looking for Derpy and Lyra in the last level so instead of looking up on the walkthough video on Youtube, he decided to recruit a help from a medal hunter...what an idiot!

Not that I'm complaining though.

I decided to take advantage of it by charging him $300 per hour, heh, heh, heh. He would have been better off rage quitting like someone I know has.

Surprisingly, he accepts and with that, I decided to squeeze it out by first start playing the game and after first few levels, I stopped for a moment to stretch and watch a movie on Fios VOD. It milked out over two hours thanks and afterward I got back to my computer when I realize that I need to work out some sweat as I hadn't use the elliptical trainer for nearly a week so I ran down to the basement and proceed to burnt some fat for fourty minutes non-stop.

The kid then said, "When are you going to finish?"

I said, "After I take a shower."

After twenty minutes, I got back on the computer and made my way to the last level when I sat back and relax for a bit. Doing so milked out another twenty minutes and the kid starts yelling, "Stop messing around, I want the medal and I want it now!"

I laughed and said, "Okay kiddy!"

I logged into Youtube and watch the clip from "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" when Veruca Salt sang about being a selfish bitch who wants what she wants.

"You're mocking me aren't you?" he said.

"How'd you figure?" I asked.

"Enough already, I want the medal!"

"Okay, okay, jeez!"

I went to finish the game and after several tries (I wish I could say that I threw them just to extend the time a bit but...the truth is that I forgot where Derpy was), I finally finish it up. After four hours I accomplished the mission and afterward the kid wrote a check of twelve hundred dollars (I was surprised too, didn't think he has that much money) and said, "I hate you, you're a bigger con-artist than a underaged prostitute!"

Since then I may have been blacklisted...

He was my last customer or client...which is it? Nevermind.

However, there are things that can really hinder your quest for medals due to system flaws and so on. Not to mention there are artists who creates flash games with broken medals and never bother to fix them despite getting complaints, these people are among the lowest of the low. Believe me, they can make you feel like even bigger crap than what happens after your parents talks you down because you screwed up and well...it's a long story and it was at least partly my fault it's a different story but you know what I mean.

Then there are those who created ridiculously complicated game with medals that are almost impossible to earn. Not only that, the games are bad and for the most part not worth playing, like that crap by Donovan Jackson who seemed to have a hard on for "Devil May Cry". That game was called "Fear Unlimited Issue 2" which is appropiately named since the game does indeed have unlimited issues, especially with bugs and all. A thread was made about the problem in the "General" forum and Jackson blew it off, accusing them of being whiners who sucked at his games.

But then the medals were revoked by the site's administration and not long after, Donovan Jackson was found beaten unconscious in his home and his beloved parrot, Beaky was decapitated. It turns out that he was working on another game called "Fear Unlimited Issue 3" where you get to play as Barry Bonds and you have to kill the steroid enhanced feds coming after you.

Now that you know who about dizmiz (Jackson's screen name), he pretty much had it coming.

Oh and one more thing, if you're a NG member and want help on getting game medals, sorry, I can't help you. The reason is that after being blacklisted, my business have to close, there's not much I can do about this.

I was driving home from class one night when a whole bunch of people got in the way moaning like someone who got kicked in the groin. I pulled over and was about to get out of the car to tell the people to move out of the way (they didn't notice the honking so I figure that they're trying to be "rebel" or something) when another car pulled over right next to me and the driver rolls down the window and said, "Don't go near those guys, they're zombies!"

Stunned, I said, "Again? Really?"

The driver nods and said, "Yes, again!" as he toss me a cross-bow once we both got out of our cars. As the zombies are advancing toward us, I said, "What is the difference between 'alive' and 'undead'?" as I fire a bolt and hits one of them in the shoulder.

"There's no time for that, they're coming our way!" he yelled.

"They're walking slower than a turtle, it would take hours before they even get five yards within our distance!" I said.

I fire another bolt at the zombie and hits one right in the stomach but he continues on without flinching so I fire another one and hit him in the face, causing him to keel over.

"The difference between 'alive' and 'undead' is that when you're alive, your body still functions and undead means you just came back from the dead...I think," he said.

"I don't know, undead would still means you're not dead which is what alive is, not only that, I just hit the guy in the head and he fell over, if they were dead then how come they stop if you hit them in the brain? It's not like they're brain dead or anything!" I yelled.

"How the hell should I know, I'm not the one who created the definition for alive and undead, I would go with the 'living dead' and even then it still wouldn't answer your question about the brain!"

"If their brain still functions then they're not really dead are they? Basically we're killing people who are still alive but got infected and end up in a trance or something."

I fire another bolt and hits another one of the zombies in the sack, causing it to moan even louder.

"Guess they can still feel." I said.

In time the group started to part away and we both wonder what was going on until we saw a bunch of pale men in suits came in from between and smiled. I fire a bolt into one of the men in the face and nothing happens...he just stood there and pull the bolt out from his eye socket!

My partner became shocked and said, "W-what's going on here? What are they?"

I realize what they are and said, "They're the sportswriters who participated in the Hall of Fame votings, they have the ability to function without brains despite the lack of...mind."

"How do you know?"

"Remember the Pro Football Hall of Fame results last month?"

"Oh, that explains a lot I guess."

Then something came to mind and I said, "You know, just earlier this morning, 'Shaun of the Dead' was on, it's kind of weird."

"Coincidence?" he asked.

"Maybe." I shrugged.

Because the zombie sportswriters aren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, we got into our cars and sped toward them, knocking them over. They'll be alright, I know because I had an encounter before and dealt with them and the next day they're on ESPN spewing same nonsense over and over. I'm surprised Skip Bayless and Stephen A. Smith aren't among those guys though, maybe the rumor of the show "First Take" being scripted is true after all, wouldn't find it surprising if that's the case.

One day at Madison Square Gardens, the fans were anticipating a great performance from their hockey team the New York Rangers when the PA announcer said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to introduce...THE NEW YORK RANGERS!!!"

The fans started to cheer when suddenly a campy song begins to play...

Ooh, la, la, Sasson...

"What the?"

"What's with the song?"

"No...just no!"

Soon, the hockey players appears and to their fans' confusion and dismay, the entire team starts to prance around in the ice hockey rink while one of them twirl like a female figure skater...

"What is this? Women's figure skating? I thought we're watching hockey!" someone yelled.

Ooh, la, la, Sasson...

The players leaped over the team's logo in the middle of the arena before several of them holds hands to circle around it and one of them danced like a ballerina on skates.

Ooh, the jeans took a shape...
Ooh, they just got relayed...

The rest of the song was drowned out by boos until one of the Rangers players, Phil Esposito grabs the microphone and said, "People, please calm down, we're having fun and isn't sports about harmony? Just unite and we can win this thing!"

The crowd's boos turns into cheers as the game begins.

Once the game ends few hours later with the Rangers' yet another loss at home, the crowd proceeds to join in the fun as they sang, "Ooh, la, la, you suck! Oo, la, la, you suck! The Rangers have no shame...ooh, they are so fucking gay! BUFFOONS!"

Note: I'm not making this up, the commercial actually exist!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYtWlmaKsww

Here is a story about a dream I had and it's really weird, but then again what dream isn't weird? I forgot most of the dream but the last part stood out the most anyway which is the reason why I can still remember it well...mostly. At that part of the dream, what happened was that I was in a role of Patrick Jane from the show called "The Mentalist" where I just solved a crime and for some reason working to help settle a couple's quarrel.

One is a prostitute while the other guy who is her boyfriend resembles John Goodman. I forgot the part of the argument so let's just say that they had a fight but from what I remember, it was their way of reconcilating and the boyfriend is in fact a good guy but the prostitute seems to have bit of an issue due to a one minor snag that kept the reconcilation from being completed. Just to let you know, the boyfriend was the one who asked me for help (or at least I think that's what I remembered anyway).

Knowing that the process of reconcilating really need a spark to give it a boost, I took out a Chinese firecracker, hung it on the kitchen, light it and dive right out of the window. I know the relationship will work out in the end thanks to this little stunt, because it did as I knew somehow, just bear with me since there was a scene I saw that shows it. I went into a car and realized it wasn't mine, but I heard someone yell, "Hey, that's my car!"

I panicked, hot wired the car and drove off.

As made several turns throughout the borough just to make sure I'm not being followed, but it wasn't easy since I'm never really used to driving a floating car. After running through countless stop lights and even ran several stop signs, I made another turn before finally slowing down and took a breather when I saw a group of people walking together with a woman leading the way with a megaphone. I carefully follow them as I slow ride along aside the woman and it turns out they're heading toward a cemetary!

As soon as we enter the cemetary, we follow the path as the woman with a megaphone said, "Okay people, be sure to watch out for your belongings and no flash photographies, last thing we need is a lawsuit from these people's relatives for disturbing the peace."

"You're already doing just that with that ridiculous megaphone." I muttered.

"Okay people, just up ahead there is a crypt built in a shape of a log cabin as a memorial to the kids who were killed in..." she said as I thought, "Blah, blah, blah, and all that jazz...whatever that means, damn you Fosse!"

But then I raise my hand while trying to slow down my bicycle and asked, "Isn't that a log cabin? It's still made of wood and why does it look like a gingerbread house?"

The tour guide then said, "That's a good question, technically yes, the crypt is a log cabin but the reason why it resembles a gingerbread house is that it represents the innocence of children that have been taken away by their deaths. As you know, in the story of 'Hansel and Gretal', the two kids were lured into the house by a witch hoping to prey on them, but fortunately the two kids were able to overcome the evil...unfortunately, the kids entombed inside the crypt were taken away by fate..."

I started to feel sad shortly before I realize that I pedaled too fast and rode right past the tour guide!

I tried to slow down but in the end I decided, "Screw this!" and jumped my bike high up into the air before landing right in front of the back entrance of the cemetary where I would proceed to ride my way out.

One day, several people were partying in a desert when a odd looking vehicle begins to head toward them. No idea what the vehicle could be, some of the onlookers went to inspect the vehicle before backing away to safety. However, the vehicle continues to move toward them when it suddenly stopped an inch short of the small crater, stunning the curious onlookers. One of the onlookers went to touch the vehicle and said, "It's made of metal...it's just a vehicle...but what could it be?"

"I don't know, it's like a being from another planet send something to us to tell us something...or something." said the other.

"Maybe there is a message..."

Meanwhile, back at NASA, the researchers watching the events recorded live from a video carried by the vehicle each let out a disappointed sigh as one of them said, "Our mission failed..."

One of the scientists was shocked and said, "What do you mean?

"Our mission is to find a sign of intelligent life on Mars...instead all we find are some Pro Football Hall of Fame voters who snubbed Michael Strahan from the first ballot election and the people who agrees with the voters..."

"Oh...you're right."

Another hundreds of millions of dollars worth of fiasco.

One day at school, a sports writer was attending class as a guest invited by the principal because he used to attend the school as a kid. The principal wanted to show the kids the success they can have if they can study hard and work diligently so one day, they can have great jobs as well. Little do the principal knows, the sports writer is also a columnist for ESPN which isn't the ideal person to invite to school as he would learn the reason why.

As the class was ready to have a math test, the sports writer said, "You know what? I can help serve as an example to the kids by taking the same test myself!"

The teacher wasn't sure but the principal smiled and said, "Sure, go on ahead, Miss Sullivan, can you get a copy of a test sheet?"

"Are you sure about this?" the teacher said.

"Miss Sullivan, this is important, the kids need to know how good grades can hel-"

"Alright, alright, sheesh!"

Few minutes later, Miss Sullivan returns from the office with a copy of a test paper and hands it over to the sports writer. The sports writer walks to the teacher's desk and begins to start answering questions on the math test. Once it was over, one by one, each student hands over the test sheet and Miss Sullivan starts to collect them when she notice the sports writer still working on his math problems.

"Sir, time is up, hand over the test sheet!" she said sternly.

The sports writer said, "Just a second...there, okay here you go, all done!"

"Thank you!" she said.

As the lunch period passed through like a ghost gliding through the wall, some of the staff members were spooked by the sight as they believe that the school building have been haunted by a student who committed suicide because of her unacquainted love of a teacher who left soon after the incident, the class resumes as the students returns to their respective desks. As minutes goes by, each student receives the graded test paper and either a sigh of relief or a disappointed groan can be heard throughout the entire classroom.

Once it was done, the teacher hands the test sheet over to the sports writer and said, "Care to explain this?"

The sports writer looks down on his test sheet...

45%

"Really? I thought it would be a bit higher, oh well!" he said.

"Oh really? Then explain how you managed to get several simple math problems wrong? You should have learn this in fourth grade you know, how can you get the fractions wrong? It doesn't take a genius to know that 4 is divided by 2!" said Miss Sullivan.

The sports writer smiles and said, "To get them all right will be against my principle."

"Principle?"

"Allow me to explain, every sports writers have their own principles and in my case, I have a important principle I must follow."

One of the student asked, "Is it required?"

The sports writer said, "No, the principle is something we all come up with so it's easier to follow and with that, it makes us more important than the rest of the country except for the President and maybe ESPN!"

Then he continues, "As a sports writer, I have a very important responsibility in which I get to vote for the players to the Hall of Fame and as you know, the players needs enough vote required for enshrinement. However, we sports writers tends to have differing views on certain players and sometimes disagree on how the players should be voted in."

The entire class looks on in silence until someone said, "What?"

The sports writer took a deep breath and exhale before saying, "I thought I made myself clear, I'll say it again in a way in which you ants would understand. What happen is that last weekend when the votes were counted, I was one of the voters who didn't choose players like Michael Strahan despite being among the 'no-brainer' pick, the reason is that according to my self-imposed principle, no player should be on first ballot...I know some got through but you can't snub them all, but with Strahan having to wait another year, my mission is a success, hahahahaha!"

"So that's the reason why you failed the math test, all because you believe that nothing should be unaminous and no obvious choice should be chosen?" Miss Sullivan asked.

"That's right!" answered the sports writer.

The principal who have been hearing the conversation the whole time just when he was about to tell the sports writer about leaving his car lights on was shocked. Is this the person he invited to school to serve as a positive example to the students? To come up with a half-assed and self-imposed "principle" in order to excuse every mistakes that were made? Hey, at least now everyone knows the reason why the Hall of Fame voting became a quite a mess due to questionable choices...

"Did I hear you correctly?" the principal asked.

"Why yes, you heard me correctly, I failed the test because I don't think everything should be done right even if it's obvious enough to get it right, I apply this to many of the things I do aside from the test and the Hall of Fame voting." the sports writer chuckled.

Horrified, the principal could only think for a moment, "What have I done? I can't believe I miss this? How can I not know that he's a imperfectionist jackass?"

After spending few minutes to regain his composure, the principal said, "Sir, you have done enough as it is so please leave this school."

The sports writer huffed and said, "Why should I? I like it here, after all this is the place where I got my start so I can tell it like it is, in the end you have to get some things wrong in order to succeed."

"Leave..."

"Make me!"

"If you don't leave, I will call the security!" the principal yelled.

The sports writer laughed and said, "Call the security? Really? Do you even realize who I am? I'm-" as a fist made contact to his face, sending him flying ten meters to the wall. The principal holds his right hand and said, "As I said before, you better leave this place and I'm giving you one last chance. If you're going to keep spewing out bullshit, I will make sure you won't speak again!" with a death glare on his eyes.

The sports writer wiped his nose and said, "My, my, my, well done, but until we meet again..." before walking out of the classroom. Since then, the principal made sure to spot check every information of a person he would invite in order to make sure the incident won't ever happen again. More importantly, after seeing what would happen if the principal becomes angry, the students decided that pissing him off isn't going to be a good idea and out of fear, they began to study harder. The word spread throughout the school and not long after, the school's grade average would rise from C to B+. Granted, B+ isn't the best grade but in the end, it's still better than what it was before and it was all thanks to a missed background check by the principal when he decided to invite a sports writer with a fucked up principle.

One day at Pathmark, a sports writer was shopping for his wife when he came across a stack of jars of pasta sauce. He picks it up and said, "Prego? Never try this before, I wonder how it taste?"

The man on a table next to him said, "That's a reason why we gave out free samples, here!" as he hands over a small paper cup of pasta sauce to the sports writer.

The sports writer taste it and became delighted...but then he thought to himself. "But I liked Ragu...what other questionable choices have I made?"

Then he remembers the Pro Football Hall of Fame voting in which he left Michael Strahan's name off the ballot, help costing the former Giants defensive end a first ballot election. Remember the voting he made, the sportswriter became depressed and said, "What have I done? I can't believe I chose Warren Sapp over Michael Strahan...what other questionable choices I made..."

Then he remembers when he wrote a column proclaiming that Kobe Bryant is better than Michael Jordan...

"No..."

The members of the Seal Team 6 heads into the compound with their weapons prepared in case of enemy fire. After detonating an explosive in order to burst the door open, one by one the member of the NAVY team went into the building in search for a notorious terrorist mastermind. As the team carefully heads to one room after another, they could hear a faint moaning sound in the upper floor just as they got close to the stairs.

"What do you think is happening up there?"

"One way to find out,"

Once the team made their way to the upper floor, the moaning became louder as they approaches the room with a door opened slightly ajar. One of the troops carefully opens the door so the occupant in the room won't hear them and to their surprise, Osama bin Laden sat there in front of a television showing a two women making love to each other while a muscular man sits right on their heads and said, "Here comes the Cleveland special!"

Osama then yell something in Arabic in excitement when he saw the faint relection on the television screen and quickly turns around to see the members of the NAVY pointing their guns right at him. Before the terrorist could say anything, a gunshot was heard and the television was painted with blood and some grayish pink mushy contents that sticks to the screen.