A Report On The Football Of The World War I At School Three Days Early

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Unfinished business compelled Remy to arrive at school three-days early. A lack of expediency over an urgent matter had become a stone in his shoe. Other early birds lounged on the upper lawns in shades and shorts eager to re-establish their collegian routine. A rare murmur of relaxation prevailed. He greeted several classmates while making the rounds before hitting the dining hall with their abbreviated lunch menu, meaning “Sloppy Joes and mashed potatoes”. He needed to square things with the lacrosse coach. The team had been the defending national champions before losing the Division I Men 's Lacrosse finals the previous spring, prompting the self-styled genius to detonate blame. During Remy’s tenure, success embraced the “Fighting Iroquois”, owing to a talented group of dedicated, hardworking players who accepted hard-coaching. But Coach David Garrity remained unsatisfied. His “never stand still” strategy and emphasis on pressuring the ball superseded the player’s contribution in many ego-inflating Brightwater Herald articles. The tributes hadn’t been enough. Peter Londerhan played point, guarding the crease. With a minute left in the title game, he slipped, and an opposing attackman managed a free run at the goalkeeper and scored the game’s final point─the winning margin. Remy fought to tie the score, but while battling midfielders, the buzzer sounded─an excruciating loss for a team heavily favored over a buzz saw opponent. Coach Garrity wasted no time lashing into Londerhan in the locker room, the bus ride back to Eldridge, and during the final meeting with a no-holds-barred tirade. Afterward, the players circled the wagons. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So after lunch, R... ... middle of paper ... ... stopped singing and yelled, “Hey, Shel, next rounds on me!” The police shined a spotlight on him as he, cautiously, repositioned himself to face McKinley Hall amidst a chorus of “Oohs!” and “Aahs!” He composed himself and concentrated, before hurling the premium brew spinning end over end to a smashing conclusion at Shelly’s office window, a major league toss. The flabbergasted crowd gasped at both the fist-sized puncture and accompanying spider web, suppressing a thunderous roar before the Provost’s watchful eye. Shelly didn’t flinch until Roma repeatedly called him a “Dick-less wonder”. When Shelly tried reason, Roma took it to heart and after consulting his zipper, he spouted an arc of piss spray aimed at the Provost’s head, scattering the stargazers, and prompting murmurs and catcalls. Sheldon hopped away appalled but seemingly amused over Roma’s dismantling.

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