STAND AT ATTENTION TALKING CHOP SLIMES. THIS IS SERGEANT SLAUGHTER HERE.
THE MAGGOT YOU KNOW AS "ROYHOBBS" WON'T BE WRITING THIS FINE PIECE OF BASEBALL JOURNALISM, BECAUSE HE IS A WORTHLESS PUKE WHO TAPPED OUT TO MY CAMEL CLUTCH, AND IS WRITING IN AGONY IN THE CORNER NOW. THAT USELESS SLIME TRIED TO BAN THE SARGE FOR EXCESSIVE USE OF THE CAPS LOCK BUTTON, SO I SHOWED HIM WHO WAS BOSS. THE SARGE MIGHT BE THE TOUGHEST S.O.B. ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET, BUT EVEN HE DOES KNOW GOOD INTERNET ETIQUETTE - I KNOW YOU WORTHLESS PUKES WOULD LOVE TO SEE ME TYPE THIS ENTIRE THING OUT IN ALL CAPS, BUT THE SARGE IS NOT HERE TO APPEASE YOU SLIMES, HE IS HERE TO DOMINATE AND DEFEND HIS WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP.
THE FULL STORY IS AFTER THE JUMP, MAGGOTS.
Prior to the 2010 season, the Sarge was hard at work as a World Wrestling Entertainment goodwill ambassador, as well as doing some wrestling on the side. It isn't the Sarge's fault that he was so far beyond talented that he was forced into early retirement, in order for lesser pukes like Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, Hunter Hearst Helmsley and other jobbers to actually get some time in the spotlight, but he understands good business relies on sacrifice and unselfishness, so the Sarge stepped down from the squared-circle. But then the Sarge's cell phone rang, and it was none other than Frank Wren, asking the Sarge to come on down to Spring Training to whip the Braves into playing shape. The maggot actually had some idea that if the current roster of Braves pukes took a little training from Sgt. Slaughter, then they would be tougher than anybody else in Major League Baseball. Well he is very true but the Sarge is a busy and in-demand individual so he was forced to hold the receiver in front of his face and tell the maggot Wren NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
But Wren was a persistent little slime, and the Sarge couldn't help but feel a little flattered that he was being pursued so hard. So in the end, we agreed that I would go down to my home of South Carolina and make an appearance for the MYRTLE BEACH PELICANS, in the midst of their Opening Weekend. But the Sarge demanded respect, and that miserable puke Wren agreed - his life counted on it.
When the Sarge arrived at Coastal Field, he was pleased to see that his majestic name was right on the marquee like promised. I suppose Frank Wren would be spared from a violent heel turn for two more weeks with this gesture of good will.
The Sarge was disappointed with the rash of productivity, or lack of, from this overhyped maggot, Jason Heyward. After striking out an unacceptable one time, I had no choice but to get him on the phone which he responded before the first ring ended as he was taught to, and answered the Sarge's questions with SIR YES SIR DRILL SERGEANT! And after about ten minutes of getting an earful of Sgt. Slaughter, this uninspired puke face went out and responded with a home run and three total hits. Sgt. Slaughter called the maggot up later and grilled him some more for not going 4-for-4 with four grand slams. The slime apologized profusely, but he doesn't realize that Sgt. Slaughter still plans on assaulting him with chairs and fireballs.
Being a Real American Hero as well as a World Champion, Sgt. Slaughter cannot help the fact that women find him absolutely irresistible. But the Sarge is still a southern gentleman first and foremost, and granted these nubile young women the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get photographed with Sgt. Slaughter.
This good for nothing puke face usher had the audacity to request to see Sgt. Slaughter's tickets. What this maggot failed to comprehend was that Sgt. Slaughter does not need any tickets, ever. Since he was an old man, Sgt. Slaughter was forced to go old school, and dust out his old finishing maneuver, the knuckle to the temple. Within ten seconds, this worthless slime was on the ground in a convulsing heap.
With the maggot usher out of the way, Sgt. Slaughter marched right down to the front row, where I knew I was going to enjoy a good night of the second greatest sport in the world behind professional wrestling. IT'S REAL YOU MAGGOTS!!!!! AND IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME, I WILL DRIVE MY KNUCKLE IN TO ROYHOBBS'S TEMPLE UNTIL HE BANS EACH AND EVERYONE ONE OF YOU SLIMES IN BETWEEN TEARS OF PAIN AND AGONY YOU PUKE FACES.
Despite the fact that Sgt. Slaughter is a legend and a celebrity, he is not one to sit and relax. He is still a man of action and Sgt. Slaughter does not like to sit and wait idly, so he got up and walked around with so much time still before first pitch. Here is one of the worthless slimes you puke faces are calling one of the young guns of the Pelicans rotation, Randall Delgado. The Sarge had children of his own who love and enjoy the game, and since he is still a loving father, Sgt. Slaughter decided to get some baseballs signed.
Clearly this maggot knows greatness when he is near it, and after signing Sgt. Slaughter's baseball, he felt the need to look up, and bestow his young eyes on what true greatness looks like. Because Sgt. Slaughter wanted to inspire greatness and the aura of winning to these young maggots, he agreed to begrudingly take a photograph with Delgado. Sgt. Slaughter fully expects that this will be the pinnacle of this slime's career.
WHAT??? WHO IS THIS PUKE IN THE PELICANS DUGOUT? FOR WHATEVER REASON SGT. SLAUGHTER CAN'T COMPREHEND, THERE WAS SOME MAGGOT PARADING AROUND COASTAL FIELD CLAIMING TO BE SGT. SLAUGHTER. WHO DOES THIS MAGGOT THINK HE IS? HOW DARE HE STEAL SGT. SLAUGHTER'S THUNDER? AND WORSE OFF, WHY ARE THESE INCOMPETENT MAGGOTS WORKING AT COASTAL FIELD FOOLED BY THIS WORTHLESS SLIME'S FOOLHARDY CHARADE??
Worse off, the Pelicans were fooled by the FAKE Sgt. Slaughter's presence and surrounded him with admiration and adoration that was rightfully the REAL Sgt. Slaughter's. Those worthless maggots, I looked frantically around for a steel chair to punish them all with, but was disappointed to see that all seats were bolted into the facility.
Fortunately for this one slime, Adam Milligan, he knew the REAL Sgt. Slaughter from the fake maggot, and begged to sign a baseball for Sgt. Slaughter. This slime had no idea how dangerously close he was to receiving a knuckle into the temple until he was unconscious, but he was doing my kids a service, so Sgt. Slaughter saw fit to show a little mercy. It doesn't happen often.
Back at Sgt. Slaughter's seat, he just wanted to sit down and relax and prepare for a comfortable evening of baseball, but the other Pelican slimes that knew the REAL Sarge from the fake one kept coming up to him and asking for pictures and autographs. This puke face whom you may all know as Randy Gress begged Sgt. Slaughter for an autographed baseball and a photograph, and since he showed such enthusiasm, Sgt. Slaughter had no choice but to oblige.
These two puke faces you know as Gerry Rodriguez and J.J. Hoover begged Sgt. Slaughter for autographs as well, and I had no choice but to oblige to these slimes. They wouldn't leave Sgt. Slaughter alone and prepare for the game if he didn't.
AHAHAHAHA that old maggot Rocket Wheeler saw the commotion coming over from Sgt. Slaughter's section, and his skin turned about as white as a ghost at the thought of crossing Sgt. Slaughter again. In case the rest of you puke faces weren't aware, back in 1977, Ralph Wheeler and Sgt. Slaughter had a disagreement which ended up with Sgt. Slaughter teaching him a lesson while General Adnan and the Iron Sheik watching and laughing at his humiliation. Afterward, he ran away so fast that he was then given the nickname Rocket, which has apparently stuck to this old slime all these years.
After about an hour full of a bunch of pukes, maggots and slimes begging Sgt. Slaughter for autographs, photographs, and useless small talk, the game was finally ready to start.
WHAATT??? AGAIN?? THE FAKE SGT. SLAUGHTER WAS TAKING THE FIELD FOR THE CEREMONIAL FIRST PITCH. SGT. SLAUGHTER WAS ANGRY AND HE GOT UP OUT OF HIS SEAT TO SETTLE THINGS ONCE AND FOR ALL WITH THIS WORTHLESS FAKE MAGGOT.
This scrawny gangly maggot Zeke Spruill was the starting pitcher for the Pelicans on this night. He timidly approached Sgt. Slaughter prior to the game, and when it became clear that he wanted to say something, Sgt. Slaughter told the puke to stand at attention and state his business. Naturally like all the other slimes he was a big fan of Sgt. Slaughter. I asked the puke if he preferred to go the rest of his career as "Zeke" or "Ezekiel," to which he stated his preference to be "Zeke."
In an angry rampage, Sgt. Slaughter realized that he needed liquid refreshment in order to appease his anger over some lowly maggot parading around pretending to be Sgt. Slaughter. Here is the beer man promptly pouring Sgt. Slaughter a cold one while paying him to not be the next victim to the Cobra Clutch.
Afterward, Sgt. Slaughter's search for his doppelganger resulted in little results, so he was forced to resort to extracting the information himself. If anyone were to know of this maggot-eating charlatan's whereabouts, it would have to be none other than the miserable puke mascot of the Pelicans, SPLASH. After repeated chokeslams and a beating that this slime would never forget, Splash pointed me in the right direction.
FINALLY SGT. SLAUGHTER MET UP WITH HIS FAKER. AFTER A BRIEF MOMENT OF STARING EACH OTHER DOWN THROUGH MIRRORED AVIATOR SUNGLASSES, THE MISERABLE PUKE ADMIT THAT HE WAS INSTEAD A BIG FAN OF SGT. SLAUGHTER IN HIS YOUTH AND THAT IMITATION WAS THE MOST SINCERE FORM OF FLATTERY. WITH SUCH AN EXPLANATION SGT. SLAUGHTER REALIZED THAT PROBABLY NOBODY HAD THE BALLS OR THE COURAGE TO CONFRONT SGT. SLAUGHTER WHILE DRESSED LIKE SGT. SLAUGHTER, SO SGT. SLAUGHTER WAS FORCED TO NOT RESORT TO VIOLENCE, BUT INSTEAD ACCEPTANCE. LIKE THE PELICAN PUKES BEFORE HIM, THIS WAS LIKELY THIS MAGGOT'S MONUMENTAL POINT IN LIFE.
Unfortunately, all the time it took to track down Sgt. Slaughter's faker led to Sgt. Slaughter not watching on the field, the game breeze by. As expected, the gangly puke Spruill had made quick work of the Wilmington Blue Rocks, even with that major league puke on rehab, Alex Gordon in their lineup. But as that maggot tended to do in Rome, Spruill gave up a lot of contact, which led to him giving up runs in the second, fourth and fifth innings. Fortunately for that puke, the Pelicans responded in the bottom half of every one of those innings, tying the game three times. Realizing that Sgt. Slaughter would stand for no more of such unacceptable balling, Rocket Maggot had to pull Spruill before Sgt. Slaughter took the field and put him in the Camel Clutch.
As that maggot yondaime4 said in the Minor League Recap, the Pelicans took a lot of walks. Sgt. Slaughter noticed that it was not so much patience as much as it was the two Blue Rock slimes, Chris Dwyer and James Thompson's complete incapabilities of throwing strikes and resulting in a ton of free passes. But Sgt. Slaughter has no objection to winning via alternative means; as long as the Pelicans came out on top on this night, Sgt. Slaughter didn't care if they resorted to kicks to the groin or clotheslining the opposition with the Iraqi flag as long as a win was the result.
And thanks to Gerry Rodriguez and Gerardo Avila the puke Pelicans took the lead in the 7th inning and never looked back. Sgt. Slaughter was pleased with the result of this game, as his last trip to a Pelicans game resulted in a rainout that about as disappointing as dropping the World Title once to Hulk Hogan at Wrestlemania VII. With this win, the group of maggots you all know as the Pelicans were enjoying a 3-0 Opening Weekend, and would be looking for a sweep the next day that they would not get because Sgt. Slaughter was back on the road. Those worthless maggots, jobbing when Sgt. Slaughter is not around.
THE PLAYER OF THE GAME WAS OBVIOUSLY THIS PUKE FACE, GERRY RODRIGUEZ. G-ROD WALKED TWICE, AND SCORED THREE TIMES, ONE OF WHICH WAS WHEN HE RAN DOWN BEN THERIOT AT HOME PLATE, BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY WAS THE DOUBLE HE HIT IN THE 7TH INNING THAT TIED UP THE GAME AND CAME HOME TO EXTEND THE LEAD. SGT. SLAUGHTER SALUTES GERRY RODRIGUEZ.
With the win in the bag, Sgt. Slaughter sought the need for celebration. Sgt. Slaughter's limo dropped him off at the Hooters in North Myrtle Beach. Sgt. Slaughter had no objections, nor did he mind much when waitresses were drawn to the belt like jobbers trying to get a win.
BUT THAT'S ABOUT IT FOR SGT. SLAUGHTER YOU WORTHLESS TALKING CHOP BASEMENT DWELLING SLIMES. SGT. SLAUGHTER DOESN'T CARE WHETHER OR NOT YOU LIKE HIS STORY BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT IF YOUR INTERNET TOUGH GUY GIMMICK ESCALATED INTO THE REAL WORLD THAT HE WOULD DOMINATE YOU AND YOUR NUMBERS WITH HIS COBRA AND CAMEL CLUTCHES.
(signed are Randy Gress, Zeke Spruill, Randall Delgado, Gerry Rodriguez, Adam Milligan, and JJ Hoover.)