Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. OK, so I threw down 25 Gs on the puppy bowl. I did that. And I don’t want to welsch on this thing but I don’t have the dough to deliver if I lose. And if I don’t deliver they’re going to break my kneecaps.
So uhh… go team Fluff!
It seemed like such a lock when I saw the haunches on Woofie Goldberg at the GEICO training center. I mean, come on, the spread was +180! Now it looks like Team Fluff is all over the place. If they lose my bookie, Mad Louie, is going to be pissed.
I think I may have made a bad bet. An insider told me Team Fluff was a sure thing for Puppy Bowl XIV. Word was that Team Ruff’s star players Professor Wiggles and David Bark-O-Witz were out due to turf paw. Turns out it doesn’t even matter because team Ruff is incredibly deep at running bark.
Please don’t let the adorable names cloud the severity of this situation.
Meanwhile, on Team Fluff, Salvador Dogi is still depressed from his recent ringworm, Puppy-roni is totally off track after her run in with a skunk, and Buster is suspended for drooling on the American Flag. Things are not looking good for my kneecaps.
I’m already in the hole from that wager I lost on the FCI Dog Dancing Competition. I swore the winner was gonna be Mrs. Aiken and her mastiff after I saw them skanking to The Specials, but then out of nowhere that Dimitri guy and his schipperke pulled that whirling dervish. When I couldn’t pay Mad Louie had some people come over and break my thumbs. Because it was my birthday, he said that he would give me an extension until after the Puppy Bowl so I’ve got everything riding on this.
Wait a minute! Biscuit has the ball! She has one defender to beat! She broke free! She’s going! She’s going! She’s… taking a shit on the one yard line.
My poor, poor kneecaps.